Elizabeth didn`t need to be a super-whizz at maths to see that something didn`t add up. Parallel dimensions, soul-splitting, force fields - it wasn`t exactly normal was it?

　　She wracked her brains for the umptillionth time. There had to be a rational explanation. The only trouble was finding it. She had been over the matter so many times that a pattern of tiny footprints had worn itself into her head.

　　But all she could come up with was nothing.

　　The situation wasn`t helped by Barnaby`s socks waggling about just inches away from her face . . .

　　Even by the lowly standards of Hexley-on-Heath the tavern that Aelgren had led them to was a dirty, stinking dump. The room in which they had spent the night was smaller than a matchbox, and they were all squashed onto the floor like peas crammed into a pod. Elizabeth doubted whether she had managed to sleep a wink. Every last bit of her was stiff and sore and achy.

　　Izzario must have sneaked away at some point during the early hours because now, at the crack of dawn, he came slinking back into the room. "Good morning", he said cheerily, rolling Aelgren out of the way.

　　Sleepy bodies began stirring themselves to life.

　　"Am I awake?" groaned Barnaby, rubbing his eyes and putting on his glasses.

　　"You will be after you`ve had one of these".

　　Izzario tossed a small and knobbly sack to Aelgren, who opened it with a size ten hairy grin.

　　Elizabeth wriggled out from beneath a pile of itchy blankets. "What is it?" she asked, her stomach rumbling like a hungry volcano.

　　"Vol rocks!" beamed Aelgren, holding up a small and podgy asteroid. "Twice as hard as a Ramjaw`s face and as fresh as a fiddler`s armpit!"

　　He tossed one of the dumplings to Elizabeth, threw one into his cavernous, cement mixer of a mouth and rolled his eyes in the universal sign for delicious`.

　　Elizabeth balanced the rock in her palm. It looked and smelled wholly disgusting - a stale, lumpy dollop of dough, parts of which had turned green and furry. "Er . . . no thanks", she said, wrinkling up her nose and sensing her appetite rapidly wither. "Actually, I`m not really that - "

　　"No?" said Aelgren, chomping away. "Ach, now what kind of word is that to say to a cake?"

　　He began dishing out the rocks like a badly trained juggler.

　　The others gobbled them up as if stuffing themselves with crusty blobs of putty was the most natural thing in the world.

　　Elizabeth continued to stare at hers suspiciously.

　　Eventually her belly got the better of her. She closed her eyes and held her nose and pecked at the cake, taking the ever-so-slightest of nibbles.

　　And. It. Was.

　　Delicious!

　　Marvellous even. The outside of the rock was as tough as old boots but the inside was a bit like the biscuits her mum bought. Soft and chewy and slightly sweet. Except that valuecrunch digestives were as nothing compared to this! The little lumpy thing was without question the nicest thing she had ever tasted. An all singing, all dancing tingleburst of flavour swept over her tongue and made her insides warm and tickly.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

　　And before she could help herself Elizabeth was cupping the rock like a hamster, feverishly devouring every last morsel she could find.

　　"They nae look like much, but just one of these can keep you going for days", munched Aelgren, chucking two more into his face.

　　"Mmmmppfff!!" agreed Elizabeth, trying really hard not to spill any crumbs.

　　"Although . . . you`re nae supposed to eat the mouldy bits".

　　Aelgren gave Elizabeth a very unusual look as she bit down on a sudden urge to spit the cake back out, which would have been unforgivably rude even if she hadn`t already swallowed it.

　　Izzario was peering out of a grimy, dirt-streaked window. The streets outside were coming alive and bleary moans and morning sounds were starting to make an appearance.

　　"We need to get moving before this place really wakes up", he said. "And remember: try not to cause any trouble. If the Dominion finds out we`re here then we`ll have more than just the Darkstone Tower to worry about".

　　Elizabeth`s stomach was still gurgling as they gathered up their things and crept out into the city.

　　Which, she soon discovered, was a gargantuan, unmentionable, sprawling disorderly mess. A higgledy-piggle of straw-flung streets that lazed and lolloped without a care as to where they were going, uneven rows of saw-roofed, shabby buildings that all slumped together like they were having a bit of a snooze, and a veritable forest of rusty pipes and smoke stacks that puffed and chuffed and poured grey sludge into the sky.

　　The whole place looked and sounded and smelled like it had been thrown together by an army of drunken builders having a fight.

　　Barnaby, on the other hand, appeared to find it delightful.

　　"As you can see the Old Town has hardly changed since the Middle Era", he gushed, gesturing with enthusiasm towards a statue of a fat man riding a pig. "Emperor Ogriveous had most of it burned down during the seventh great plague, but the Artellians decided to rebuild it exactly the way it was".

　　"It`s very, um . . . quaint", Elizabeth allowed, gingerly removing her boot from a pile of something squishy as they shuffled past a junk shop called Melyndra`s Lucky Charms.

　　"Of course, it was all knocked down again in the Mad Bull carnival, but you can`t please everyone, can you?"

　　Luella scanned for danger as the streets began to thicken . . .

　　A girl in pyjamas with a piglet under one arm was being chased through the alleys by an old maid armed with a broom. A butcher`s dog with a patch on one eye stole the wig of an elderly lady. Four grown men were hauling a wagon wheel of cheese. Two scrawny tomcats got into a fight. A man with a head that was as round as his belly sold lookalike turnips out of a squeaky wheelbarrow. And an old lady made of tree bark stared with dried-out olive stone eyes.

　　"I do wish you would just tell us about this plan of yours", complained Barnaby, as the group edged over a cracked stone bridge. "I have no idea where we`re supposed to be going".

　　"Patience", said Izzario, "is the first step on the road to wisdom".

　　"Yes, but curiosity makes the world go around!"

　　Elizabeth pondered this as she checked the time on her watch. The digital fingers said 7:22 and it reminded her of just how tired she was. She blinked and yawned and rubbed her gritty eyes. The trek across the city along with the stuuuuuupidly early start to the day had left her in need of a good sit down and an extra ten hours of sleep.

　　Her head was still woolly as they stumbled onto the crossroads. Or criss-cross-criss-cross-criss-crossroads as Elizabeth thought it was probably called. Because stretching out in front of her was a tongue twister of streets and footpaths that were all jumbled together like the lines of a crinkly face. She watched in startled astonishment as a young boy on a bicycle almost collided with an onrushing goose, swerved to avoid it at the very last moment and spilled a tottering chimney of newspapers into a puddle.

　　"Ach, my boots", sighed Aelgren. "Are you sure you know where you`re going?"

　　Elizabeth leapt out of the way to avoid being clobbered by a horse and cart.

　　And somewhere deep inside her a Bell of Alarm began to ring.

　　Perhaps it was the weird glances, the odd stares or the way that people had been covering their mouths and whispering to each other ever since she had left the tavern. But Elizabeth was starting to get a very peculiar feeling in her tummy.

　　"Why is everyone giving me funny looks?" she asked, hoping that saying this while gawking at her feet would make the whole thing go away.

　　"Just ignore them", Luella whispered. "It`s only a superstition. Something to do with young girls and red hair. They probably think you`re a witch".

　　Somehow the explanation didn`t make Elizabeth feel much better.

　　As soon as the roadmuddle was safely out of the way, Izzario ushered them into a narrow lane down the back of a shabby old warehouse. At the end of the lane was a crumbling wall and a creaking, rickety gate.

　　Izzario shunted it open with a cunning look about him.

　　"So", he said, "who wants to go for a little ride?"