LITMIR.BIZ

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      There was a shriek, then a scream, then a scrambled scurrilous squawk as the Towers finally did their thing.

      Like an alien water birth the triple peaks of the Tri-Towers burst forth from the confines of Lake Loch. The waters churned around the turrets like a twisting torrential tornado, running in rushing rivulets off the crystalline Towers that shimmied like they were created from the water itself. The illusion of a watery facade morphed into solidness as the Towers became harder and more erect - three shimmering phalluses, standing tall and proud, as they pierced the darkened sky and plunged out its inky far-reaches.

      Though they stood on the dark side moons, now fully eclipsed, Arrabella and Langley and the other competitors were illuminated by the radiant beams of light that shone from the Towers themselves. Then a great spotlight spotted the opposite bank, drawing everyone's attention to the rainbow of unicorns now prancing and playing like psychedelic go-go dancers. Their golden horns flashed in the rare crystal light as these purest of the forever-magical creatures reclaimed their meadow for a night.

      The crowd watched in wondrous delight. Arrabella even felt Langley's excitement as he pressed against her, his own horn threatening to flash in the spotlight. Just as Arrabella was wondering how in the name of chuppachups, to best respond to his horn's insistent throb, a shocked and terrified gasp spread across the crowd.

      A brilliant bolt of amber lightning exploded from the spire of the central tower. It honed in, like a target-tracking-tortoise, on a goblin who'd been busy taking bets from the spectators. It struck him just as he snaffled a bag of germy-gems from a greedy-eyed grommet. A crust of granite descended across his form, transforming first his outstretched hands, then his pointed toes and finally his frightened face, into stone.

      Pandemonium erupted. Mayhem spread in every direction. Bedlam and a hubbub raced through the ungathering throng. Fluttering folk of the Fortune Fey family flittered into the air; and grovelling Groundhog Goblins groped through the grass. The ground trembled as five gattling giants collided in their efforts to escape, trampling a clan of Stickfiggers beneath their feet as they ran away like children from pupapriests. Mermaids slipped back into the relative safety of Lake Loch; nymphs of all denominations became as one with the lush, green surrounds; and a phoenix combusted spontaneously into a flaming display, leaving naught but ash mounds in its place.

      Lord Langley clutched Arrabella protectively to his well-oiled but pleasantly smooth chest. She knew this made her look like a helpless damsel in distress, but this worked perfectly with her plan to outsmart the other competitors. As long as they thought she posed no threat to them - she held the upper hand. And besides, who wouldn't want to be clutched to the body of a practically naked, perfect specimen of manliness.

      Arrabella had plenty of time to think about all this while she waited for what was left of the crowd to collect itself into a mood other than that of outright panic. Only the brave, the desperate or the innately stupid had held their ground. None of the wizards or witches or true warriors had taken flight, but the numbers of other creatures was greatly reduced. There were now only a handful of souls on the shore of Lake Loch.

      Suddenly a vast golden-gated bridge, adorned with pearls, exploded from the tip of the Tri-Towers sparkling centre-phallic-symbol, like an enormous erupting sebaceous cyst. Up-up towards the moons it reached; then over it arched, across the lake and towards the spectators; then down, down to the shoreline below.

      With its beginning still attached to the central Tri-Tower, the other end of the golden bridge landed squarely at the feet of Arrabella Candellarbra and Lord Langley Kilkenny.

      Arrabella gasped inwardly, but lifted her chin high. Lord Langley Kilkenny held her so tight she wasn't sure if he was protecting her or she was protecting him, or they were both protecting the protrusion under his flimsy loin cloth.

      Hand in hand, they timidly reached for the shimmering gates that impeded entry to the bridge. Arrabella was mesmerised by their incredible beauty and detail. Filigree carvings adorned every surface that was not encrusted with the frolicking brilliance of diamonds, emeralds and rubies, all larger than Lord Langley's manly fist. Pearls, both pallid as the driven snow and black as the moonless night, dripped in clumps like bundles of illuminated grapes from the gate's highest points.

      'My Lord,' Arrabella whispered, not yet turning to face his excitement. 'Look, a lock.'

      Indeed, in the very centre of the gilded, golden and very pearly gates was an enormous padlock that held no key.

      'What are we to do Lord Langley?'

      Langley's perfectly smooth brow creased as he concentrated on the gate with the keyless lock. 'Indeed it is a lock,' he agreed. 'A Lake Loch lock, in fact, to which I may have a solution.' He reached beneath his loin cloth and withdrew a small book.

      After Arrabella was quite done with gaping at her Lord's amazing hidey-place, she glanced at the cover of the book. 'Lock Picking for DumDums? Really?'

      'I hardly think that will be necessary,' the voice of Gary, the wisest of wizards, boomed beside them. 'I think…' Before Gary could impress them with his thought, the still-stunned silence of the crowd was shattered by an ear-splitting shriek that seemed to bounce from tree to tree, rebound off the lake and enter every mind assembled there. The sound was rising in pitch. Only another half an octave and Arrabella was certain that the crystalline Towers themselves would shatter into a million pieces, like a bag of marbles left overnight to breed.

      Arrabella swung around to face the source of this banshee wail, this time shoving the handsome Lord behind her. She claimed Inuuku from her bosom and aimed the wand in the direction of the screaming. The physical and magical warrior training given her by the Reginas clicked into gear, came to the fore and stood up to be counted; her body and mind locked and loaded, Arrabella was running on instinct now, rather than any true thought.

      What's more, the placid apple-green eyes with which the maiden had, only seconds before, cast longingly over her muscular hero, now flashed the fiery crimson, the simmering scarlet, the undeniable ruby-red that belonged only to those born of Gypsy blood.

      Arrabella launched herself at the screeching creature; realising only in mid-flip that the spiteful caterwauling was coming from the infamous Betty-Sue.

      Arrabella flipped and span, back-flipped, whipped and skipped, heaved, hopped and looped; all the while reciting incantations in a tongue unknown to all who heard it.

      Taken by surprise - and without minion-backup - Betty-Sue was no match for the nimble, lithe and rather leggy Arrabella. The crone clutched at her stricken throat, gagging and retching and trying with all of her might to emit the banshee squeal that could end them all. But nothing came.

      The only sound now was the ululating melody rising from Arrabella herself; and a certain amount of heavy breathing from the rather turned-on Lord Langley.

      Arrabella wasn't finished. She continued her incantations, her Inuuku wand a burning mass of power in her hands.

      Glowing ropes of aquamarine and indigo fire wove their way from the end of her wand - which had biquadrupled in size - binding themselves around the now-silent Betty-Sue; immobilising her like a badly-sprained pinkie finger. The evil woman glared mutely at her new adversary, her coal black eyes emitting a cruel and palpable hatred, tinged with the desire for pure, cold and calculated revenge.

      The hushed crowd looked on in awe at the great new power that stood before them. Arrabella Candellarbra was a sight to behold.

      And then, quite suddenly again, Arrabella was bathed in a glorious light, radiating at first from within her and then extending toward the gilded-golden gate, joining them as one.

      To the further amazement of everybody (many of whom would later, much-much later tell their grandchildren of this moment) when Arrabella linked her fingers through those of Lord Langley, he too became shrouded in the light and connected to the gate.

      Contrary to most appearances, many of the creatures in the crowd liked things warm and fuzzy; and right now, good or bad, they all understood that this radiating light business could

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