The Shadowmagic Trilogy. John Lenahan

He was followed by a bulkier guy who had to be an Imp.

      ‘Is this the Leprechaun you told me about?’ I asked Fergal.

      He nodded yes.

      ‘Hello, Mr Leprechaun,’ I said. ‘Top of the morning to you. For my first wish I’d like a chocolate sundae with a cherry on …’

      ‘Silence!’ the little beardy guy shouted.

      ‘OK,’ I said, ‘how about I cut to my favourite wish – I’d like: me untied, you boiling in oil and don’t forget to leave me that pot of gold.’

      The Imp handed Beardy Guy my sword. ‘Is this yours?’

      ‘It looks like it’s yours now. You know – finders keepers.’

      He crouched close and placed the edge of the sword at my throat. ‘I’ll ask you again.’ I could smell his breath and it wasn’t pleasant. ‘Where did you get this sword?’

      I looked him in the eye and said, ‘Do it. Cut my throat. Get it over with. I’m tired of being tied up and threatened. Just kill me and then – LEAVE ME ALONE!’

      I actually scared him when I shouted. It made him jump up and back off. He turned to Fergal and pointed my sword at him. ‘Who are you?’

      ‘I am Fergal of Ur.’

      ‘Ur! Well, what do you know,’ he said sarcastically to the bigger guy, ‘a fellow Imp.’ He put the blade to his throat. ‘Start speaking the truth, Banshee, or you won’t be able to speak at all.’

      ‘Leave him alone,’ I said. I was just about to say it again, when I heard a voice behind me say the same thing.

      ‘Leave him alone!’

      I didn’t recognise the voice right away because I actually hadn’t heard it that much.

      ‘Who are you?’ the Leprechaun said. His question was answered by his Imp partner.

      ‘Prince Araf!’

      Sure enough it was Old Chatty himself. He strode in, followed by Essa and a horde of confused Imps.

      ‘Untie my companions,’ he demanded.

      The Imp made a move to do just that but the Leprechaun stopped him.

      ‘Hey, Leprechaun guy,’ I said. ‘Don’t make Araf repeat himself, he’s not fond of saying things the first time.’

      Araf and Beardy stared at each other for a while. It was a struggle as fierce as any sword fight. At last Beardy gave in and nodded to his Imp, who untied us.

      We stood and joined Araf and Essa. I whispered to Fergal, ‘Prince Araf?’

      ‘Yeah, Araf is the heir to the throne of Ur. Didn’t he tell you that?’

      ‘He babbles on so, I guess I just missed it.’

      I approached the Leprechaun. ‘Can I have my sword back, please?’

      He reluctantly handed it to me and said, ‘I would still like to know who you are and where you got this.’

      ‘The business of my companions,’ Araf stated, ‘is of no concern to you. What is of concern to me, is who you are and why so many of my kinsmen are here.’

      The stare-down started again. Finally the Leprechaun said, ‘Lord Araf, if I may speak with you alone?’

      ‘Anything you wish to say, you may say in front of my comrades.’

      This provoked another staring contest. At this rate we were going to be here all day. ‘Very well. May I invite you all to join me in my headquarters for tea?’

      Araf nodded.

      ‘You wouldn’t have any of that willow stuff, would you?’ I asked.

      It wasn’t until I got outside that I realised where we were – in the ruins of the Hall of Knowledge. The first thing I saw was a lone standing wall with a beautiful yellow and blue stained-glass window in it. The window depicted a woman sitting in the middle of a willowy tree. Amid all of the destruction it was amazing that the glass had survived.

      As we walked, Imps and Leprechauns peeked around corners tying to get a glimpse of the strangers. Beardy’s headquarters had obviously once been part of the Great Library. Gerard had told me that the Library was a circular room surrounding a courtyard. What was left of it made my blood boil. I don’t even like it when someone folds down the corner of a cheap paperback – here, heaped around the room, were towers of partly burnt books and piles of scorched manuscript pieces. The bookshelves that were still intact were blackened with soot. Who could do this to a library?

      Essa spoke first. ‘You are trying to save some of the manuscripts, I see.’

      ‘That was not our intention,’ Beardy said, ‘but none of us could stand to see it like this, so I have delegated a handful of people to try to make as much order of the books as they can.’

      ‘What is your intention here?’ Araf asked.

      Beardy straightened and thought for a moment. I recognised the look. I’m sure I had worn it quite a bit recently – it was the look of someone who was deciding whether to tell the truth or not.

      ‘I am Lorcan.’

      ‘Lorcan the Leprechaun?’ I blurted out and laughed. Lorcan and the others gave me a dirty look and I instantly apologised.

      ‘I am Lorcan, I was chief engineer in the mines of Duir. Three years ago I asked Lord Cialtie what he was doing with all of the gold, now that he had stopped the allowance to most of the Runelords. For an answer he imprisoned my wife in his tower and told me that the next time I had the audacity to ask questions, she would die. Over the next two years I smuggled gold out to the Runelords that had been cut off, and planned a rescue of my wife. I had not seen her for months, and when I finally gained access to the tower, she was not there. I learned that my wife had been killed a month before, defending a fellow prisoner. No one had told me.’ He paused and then forced himself on. ‘I knew that Cialtie would find out I had been there, so I escaped. Ever since I have been organising this secret fighting force. We call ourselves the Army of the Red Hand. Our goal is to dethrone Cialtie.’

      ‘If your army is a secret one,’ I said, ‘then why are you telling us?’

      ‘Out of respect for Prince Araf I will not lie to you, and also because you will not be allowed to leave here until we have mounted our attack.’

      ‘What?’ Araf shouted.

      ‘I am sorry, my lord, this must be,’ Lorcan said, as the room filled with scores of armed guards – none of them, I noticed, were Imps.

      We drew our weapons but it didn’t look good – even if we hacked our way out of this room there was an army outside.

      ‘Put down your weapons,’ Lorcan said, ‘your detainment will not be long. Our attack begins soon.’

      The way I looked at it, putting down weapons was a good idea. If these guys wanted to stuff Cialtie, I wasn’t going to get in their way. I lowered my sword and looked at Araf. He reached into his shirt and came up with a wooden whistle. He blew two shrill notes on it that were so high I thought they were going to pierce my eardrums. The effect was instantaneous: at once there was a tremendous commotion outside the room, and every entrance was flooded with confused Imps brandishing weapons. Araf dropped his staff and held his hands up in a calming gesture. I found myself standing in the middle of a room packed full of confused and agitated Imps and Leprechauns all pointing swords. As usual in situations like this, I laughed.

      An important-looking Imp pushed through the crowd. ‘Prince Araf, what is amiss?’

      Araf glanced at Lorcan. ‘Nothing is amiss, my kinsman. Master Lorcan and I were talking about the loyalty of the Impmen and I provided a demonstration – well