Read the start of this story Here <-- click
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
No title yet, sorry. Working on this in between Zack's story, Bouncer and a few other projects... as well as the mentorship programme.
As ever, FIRST DRAFT spelling, grammar, punctuation etc will not be changed or altered until I go over it as a whole after the story is finished.
HOWEVER, if there are any plot-holes, things that don't work or even suggestions on something I may use, please feel free to pipe up and let me know.
I don't really want 'good post' comments, but rather genuine replies and advice etc. I always appreciate those.
The sixth part of Dusty's 8th Adventure.
“Yeah, yeah,” the voice said. He’s Nightshade and he doesn’t talk. Well, he does talk, but humans don’t understand him too well.” The voice pronounced ‘humans’ with a hefty dose of disdain.
“But you do,” Dusty said without looking around.
“Yeah, I do,” the voice said.
“And you are?” she said, walking away. Nightshade followed her, his purr making the ground reverberate.
“Hey! Wait for me!” the voice said in a panic. He flapped his jacket and waved at a small fiery-looking creature that was taking too close an interest in him.
“Wait for you?” Dusty said in a mock-concerned tone. “You mean Fire Imps are no longer able to move as quick as a spark? You do surprise me.”
“Oh, you’re a clever madam and no mistake,” the Fire Imp said as he appeared in mid-air about a foot from Dusty’s face.
“Miss,” Dusty said. “Clever miss, not madam. Yes, I’ve done my homework. I know a number of mythical beings. I also know of specific entities, such as one particular Fire Imp that settled in the area in the late 1850s.”
“Would that Fire Imp have a name?” the creature said, his smile was cocky and confident, with his tiny head tipped to one side.
To Dusty, he looked utterly cute but she couldn’t tell him, tiny creatures were sensitive about their ‘cuteness’ and didn’t like it being pointed out.
“The one I know of was called Pockle,” Dusty said.
The creature’s smile dropped from his lips. His head dipped and his shoulders slumped. Tears sprang to his eyes. “Oh,” he said. “You knew… you knew…”
“Yes, I know Pockle,” Dusty said in a softer, kindlier voice. She held up her hand to allow the Fire Imp to alight on the tips of her fingers.
He landed on her fingertips and brushed the tears from his eyes. “How?”
“How do I know Pockle?” Dusty said.
“Yes,” the creature said after a moment of contemplation. “I’d like to know how you know him and also, what became of him, if you please. Because, I guess from your tone that you haven’t seen him in a while.”
Dusty nodded. She said, “He liked our bonfires in autumn because we didn’t have fireworks. He never got used to the sudden ‘Bang-Flash,’ he told me.”
The Fire Imp nodded and a slight smile curved his lips. His eyes were once again tear-filled and he wiped his face. Because of the tears and also because of his nature, his hands were covered in fire ash and he left dirty streaks down his face when he wiped it.
Dusty took a tissue from her pocket and handed it to the Fire Imp. He looked up at her with the biggest eyes she had ever seen and she gulped.
“I’m afraid I’ve not been a good friend,” she said. “I should have missed Pockle and gone looking for him.”
The creature nodded again. He paused for a moment, clutched the tissue in both hands and bawled. He tipped his head back, opened his mouth and howled. “I…” he said in a faltering voice. “I am a worse friend!”
He set up his howl-crying again, blowing his nose in the tissue and wiping his eyes with it. “I knew there was something wrong and I should have come looking before now!”
His tears were steaming in the volcanic air and as fast as they were being produced, they were evaporating. Dusty was glad she was part-demon, the little Fire Imp’s feet were heating up because he was so very upset.
“Well, it’s not too late to start looking,” Dusty said.