Dad,” Clara said, nodding thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“I’d just concentrate on the pantomime, if I were you, and leave the MacArthurs to sort out the Shadow when they get back.”
Neil and Clara looked at one another and nodded agreement , their minds already elsewhere. For the basement and cellars of the Assembly Hall were now stacked with scenery and props for the pantomime and during the rehearsal that night, they planned to search for the entrance to the Underground City.
Lewis, too, was watching television that evening, clicking the remote control and moving from channel to channel. Every station was full of it. The Shadow was going to be headline news in all of tomorrow’s newspapers!
“Casimir,” he said when he was up in his room getting ready for bed. “Can you tell when accidents and things happen?”
“When they happen, yes,” was the answer. “Nobody can see an accident
before
it happens, Lewis.”
“Will you tell me when anything happens; you know, like it did today? I can’t help thinking that if I hadn’t become the Shadow then the people I rescued would all be dead now. It’s a scary thought, Casimir.”
Casimir quite liked the idea and cheered up considerably at the thought of some action. He’d never, of course, have said anything to Lewis but quite frankly found living inside him a dead bore. “There are a couple of climbers stuck in the Cuillins, if you’re interested,” he said casually. “The rescue services can’t get near them. It’s blowing a blizzard over there and their helicopters are grounded. They’ll both be dead before morning.”
“Over where, exactly?” asked Lewis, whose geography wasn’t very good.
“The Cuillins are mountains on the Isle of Skye, off the west coast,” Casimir said. “Really, Lewis! If you spent as much time on your schoolwork as you do reading those comics, you’d be a lot better informed!”
“I’m really tired, Casimir,” Lewis said, looking longingly at his bed.
“You don’t have to go,” Casimir said. “Pretend I didn’t tell you.”
“But you did and if I don’t go, they’ll die! Can you see them, Casimir?”
Casimir flashed a picture into Lewis’s mind. Two climbers huddled together on a narrow ledge in the middle of a snowstorm .
“Let’s go, Casimir,” Lewis said quietly. “There’s no way I can leave them. They look as though they’re going to fall at any minute.”
“We’ll travel fast, Master,” Casimir promised.
He was as good as his word. Lewis swung out of his window and as he soared over George Street, seemed to go into overdrive. The sudden burst of speed shot him like a rocket over the castle and the rest of the city at a terrific rate that at first took his breath away. He soon became accustomed to it, however, and watched as the landscape rolled under him like a moving carpet; as though it was he who was stationary and the country that moved beneath him. It was only when they hit the fringes of the blizzard that Casimir slowed the pace.
Lewis had never been to the west coast of Scotland and although they were only vague, shadowy shapes seen through the driving snow, the mountains towered around him; strange, threatening and overwhelming in their presence. He felt like an alien as Casimir navigated him towards the ledge on which the climbers huddled, already half-frozen by the biting cold.
Their eyes rounded in terror as he approached them, black and evil-looking, out of the blizzard. There was no place to turn; all they could do was press themselves back against the solid bulk of the mountain and hope that their end would be swift. The masked face, the black cloak and the fact that he was flying in the air over a drop of thousands of feet convinced them that if he wasn’t the devil himself, he was certainly the next best thing.
“Calm them down, Casimir,” Lewis whispered under his breath. “I’ll never get anywhere near them otherwise!”
Magic
“I’d just concentrate on the pantomime, if I were you, and leave the MacArthurs to sort out the Shadow when they get back.”
Neil and Clara looked at one another and nodded agreement , their minds already elsewhere. For the basement and cellars of the Assembly Hall were now stacked with scenery and props for the pantomime and during the rehearsal that night, they planned to search for the entrance to the Underground City.
Lewis, too, was watching television that evening, clicking the remote control and moving from channel to channel. Every station was full of it. The Shadow was going to be headline news in all of tomorrow’s newspapers!
“Casimir,” he said when he was up in his room getting ready for bed. “Can you tell when accidents and things happen?”
“When they happen, yes,” was the answer. “Nobody can see an accident
before
it happens, Lewis.”
“Will you tell me when anything happens; you know, like it did today? I can’t help thinking that if I hadn’t become the Shadow then the people I rescued would all be dead now. It’s a scary thought, Casimir.”
Casimir quite liked the idea and cheered up considerably at the thought of some action. He’d never, of course, have said anything to Lewis but quite frankly found living inside him a dead bore. “There are a couple of climbers stuck in the Cuillins, if you’re interested,” he said casually. “The rescue services can’t get near them. It’s blowing a blizzard over there and their helicopters are grounded. They’ll both be dead before morning.”
“Over where, exactly?” asked Lewis, whose geography wasn’t very good.
“The Cuillins are mountains on the Isle of Skye, off the west coast,” Casimir said. “Really, Lewis! If you spent as much time on your schoolwork as you do reading those comics, you’d be a lot better informed!”
“I’m really tired, Casimir,” Lewis said, looking longingly at his bed.
“You don’t have to go,” Casimir said. “Pretend I didn’t tell you.”
“But you did and if I don’t go, they’ll die! Can you see them, Casimir?”
Casimir flashed a picture into Lewis’s mind. Two climbers huddled together on a narrow ledge in the middle of a snowstorm .
“Let’s go, Casimir,” Lewis said quietly. “There’s no way I can leave them. They look as though they’re going to fall at any minute.”
“We’ll travel fast, Master,” Casimir promised.
He was as good as his word. Lewis swung out of his window and as he soared over George Street, seemed to go into overdrive. The sudden burst of speed shot him like a rocket over the castle and the rest of the city at a terrific rate that at first took his breath away. He soon became accustomed to it, however, and watched as the landscape rolled under him like a moving carpet; as though it was he who was stationary and the country that moved beneath him. It was only when they hit the fringes of the blizzard that Casimir slowed the pace.
Lewis had never been to the west coast of Scotland and although they were only vague, shadowy shapes seen through the driving snow, the mountains towered around him; strange, threatening and overwhelming in their presence. He felt like an alien as Casimir navigated him towards the ledge on which the climbers huddled, already half-frozen by the biting cold.
Their eyes rounded in terror as he approached them, black and evil-looking, out of the blizzard. There was no place to turn; all they could do was press themselves back against the solid bulk of the mountain and hope that their end would be swift. The masked face, the black cloak and the fact that he was flying in the air over a drop of thousands of feet convinced them that if he wasn’t the devil himself, he was certainly the next best thing.
“Calm them down, Casimir,” Lewis whispered under his breath. “I’ll never get anywhere near them otherwise!”
Magic
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