LITMIR.BIZ

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throat loudly, in a manner most-unbecoming of a lady in her position.

      'Oi!' she said, and placed one bejewelled hand on her hip; her posture now askew and jaunty.

      'Wadda you lot doin' here? Huh? This 'ere is my joint; ya can't just come wanderin in wiffout my say so. Ya got that?'

      The woman's voice was exactly like the squeal of a sexually-stimulated howler monkey on the hunt for satisfaction. It scraped and scratched at the backs of their eardrums, sending shivers and shudders and shockingly savage spasms over their shoulders, down their spines and back again for good measure.

      'Whaddaya doin 'ere? Who are ya? And who invited ya? Watch 'ow ya answer me but; coz if I don't like yer answers, I'll af to ave yer spines rammed through yer brain pipes, right?'

      Suddenly terrified - because really, how on earth do you respond to someone like that, let alone best them in a fight - Arrabella hoped that one of the others would find some sense, or their voice, and be able to answer on behalf of them all. Arrabella was sure that if she tried to speak, her throat would constrict and all that would emerge would be the strangled mewings of a disknee-mouse.

      Thankfully - finally and courageously - the perfect specimen of manliness by Arrabella's side stepped up graciously, though still bowing his ebony head.

      'Your Highness,' Lord Langley began, without the slightest hesitation or hiccup in his deep, steady voice. 'Please, forgive our rude intrusion into your beautiful homeland. We are but visitors who hope to be made welcome.' He stole a few glances at the heaving Centaurs.

      'I am Lord Langley Kilkenny, of the Laventory Kingdom. My travelling companions and I seek food and shelter; we have travelled many miles and are in need of rest. I am sure your Highness would gladly accommodate us in return for a bushel of strawberry vodka and a shopping tour with my aunt, the Crown Princess of Birthday Land?'

      'Birfdy Land, eh? Hmm, never 'eard of it, but it sounds like fun. Will yer aunt be footin the bill?'

      Langley nodded sincerely.

      'Yeh, well, awright then,' she said, gazing at Langley's bare and shimmering pectoral muscles. 'Besides, I reckon I've got a little sumpfin to satisfy all your urges; you big 'ol hunk o man-meat. Git on in 'ere then.' She patted the seat beside her.

      Gary, Arrabella and Jim turned to one another; none quite trusting the strangely-beguiling, yet oddly-ocker Queen of Turkish Tarts. But Langley urged them in after him; waving them forward to join the queen in her cruel but startlingly-pretty sleigh.

      Arrabella nodded in agreement; they had little choice but to follow. The tarty-queen was obviously not one to be trifled with. To do so might bring her wrath down upon them, and who knew what form that could take. So they muttered their thanks and climbed aboard the luxurious sleigh.

      Besides, Arrabella thought, who's to say this woman was not part of their quest?

      Arrabella, Jim and Gary huddled closely behind the Queen, while Langley, much to the dismay of Arrabella, sat up front and not-quite-centre next to the Queen, who licked her lips and fluttered her eyelashes before whipping the sad Centaurs into action. The sleigh jerked to a start.

      Langley edged forward, toward the Centaurs, and whispered an unintelligible something which seemed to sooth the ailing beasts.

      'Oi! Watcha fink yer doin?' shrieked the Queen. 'Them's mine. You got no right to be talkin to em.'

      'What do you mean, talking to them?' gasped Arrabella. 'Nothing he said to those poor creatures made any sense; to me, anyway.'

      'My darling Arrabella,' Langley turned around to face her in surprise. 'Did you not know before now who I am?'

      Arrabella looked confused. 'Do I know now?'

      Langley smiled. 'Do none of you realise? Have you not heard the legends, the stories and tales of my heritage? There are historical scrolls of parchment, lots of them, all devoted to my family tree. Did you not study me in all of your years of training with the Reginas?'

      Arrabella shrugged and looked at Jim. Jim looked at Gary, who shrugged too. Gary looked to the Queen, who shrugged with a sneer, looked blankly at Langley and said, 'Nuh.'

      Langley sighed. 'My dearest Arrabella and friends. I am the Beast Master. The one and only - of the moment. Every generation there is a chosen one, and my father, before he was killed by the seven-fingered man, chose me. I can speak in the tongue of every beast, every bird, and every bug in every land.'

      Prince Jim clapped his hands with glee, almost falling out of their speeding chariot. Arrabella looked so shocked that Gary had to hold her by the shoulders lest she fall to an icy grave. Only he, the wisest of the wise, didn't seem too surprised by this revelation; as though he had known this from the beginning but it had somehow slipped his mind along the way.

      'Madam,' Langley said, addressing the now furious queen. 'I was merely thanking these delightful creatures for their services.'

      In reply, the Queen of Turkish Tarts growled deep in her throat, swirled something around in her mouth then spat a great glob of rancid booger over the side of the sleigh.

      Whereon they rode on in near silence, save for the occasional whispered taunts from Jim to Arrabella. Things like: 'You really didn't know? Aren't you supposed to be soul mates? Didn't he even mention it? Why do you think he didn't tell you before, Arrabella? Does he really trust you?'

      Gary glared at the little Prince, wishing with all his might that he could take out his Llama-Bone wand and smite the cheeky imp with the curse of the tongue-tourniquets. But all he could do was pat the maiden's knee with reassurance and flick at the fairy's wings.

      Arrabella sat sullenly as the sled bounced over the rocky and bumpy and extremely uneven path. Perhaps Jim was right? How long had she known Langley? Not even long enough to fry a fufu felafel, that's how long. Why had he chosen her, of all the competitors on the field?

      For all she knew he could be the enemy. A very muscular, well-oiled, ultra-handsome, perfect specimen of an enemy but...

      Arrabella's thoughts trailed off to the secret place beneath that scanty loincloth. What other surprises did he hide down there?

      No! Arrabella decided she must refrain from thinking of those places and those muscles and the chiselled good looks until she knew more about him and what other secrets he possessed. He could well have enchanted her with a love potion or, more likely, a lust potion. The Reginas were probably right; love and lust were mere fairytales, told to keep the kingdoms populated and under control.

      But still, she couldn't help but wish that Langley, the Master of all Beasts, would master the beast of desire and yearning that growled within her.

      After some time, the trees and rocks, crevices and creases, cracks and cokes cleared and they entered a beautiful meadow. Grass as deep as plush-pile piggeries and thick with drops of dew, twinkled in the starlight. Flowers in every shade of pink from damask to flamingo and rose to rumba, blossomed in a carpet that stretched as far as the eye could see.

      Arrabella tilted her head to listen to the sweet melodies of the topforty-birds and the gentle humming of bees and dragonflies that must surely be there. She tilted further. And further still, until her head rested uncomfortably halfway to the ground. Gary noticed and dragged her back into the sleigh.

      She gave the wizard a meaningful look. There was nothing to be heard. Not a sound. Not a single living creature, besides themselves and the luckless Centaurs, was to be seen or heard anywhere.

      Arrabella looked to Langley to see what a Beast Master would make of this and found that he too was leaning at an awkward angle, his ears pricked but unhearing.

      The sled moved softly and more slowly than before, across the meadow, as if the Centaurs were afraid of crushing even one of the magnificent blooms.

      'Awright you lot, almost there,' said the queen, with the excited animation of a tapping toon.

      Before them stretched

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