It looked like a thin fissure in the steep cliff until someone who felt the hankering to explore the sombre channel would
venture closer to see the irreflective disguise employed to hide its larger section. Peggy Powler had almost missed it
as her labour with the deepening stream disrupted her study to find the Kaffajinn's den, but it was the slight over-doing
of the dead hanging moss that tickled her fancy that she and Officer Delphi had detected what they'd been looking for.
"What is it?" the panting Policeman asked softly as he closed the space between himself and the woman unintentionally
showing the lower parts of her buttocks. Struggling pushing his heavy boots over the rubble-strewn bed of the warm-water
rindle was one thing, but avoiding the sight of the Witch's anatomy didn't help in his aquatic endeavour.
Without regard for the law-man's self-built constitution on necromancer's backsides, Peggy clambered out of the water
and like a lizard, scampered between the boulders on the stream's narrow bank. The design wasn't bad, she mentally
admired, the large blanket of dark-brown moss seemed to hang without any purchase to the surface of the cliff. But
if one peered closer -as the approaching necromancer was currently doing, they may notice a thin filigree of Earnest
Heinz's stolen fishing line connecting the mat of dried vegetation to roots dangling further up.
"Clever little bugger!" the Last Witch of Underhill mumbled to herself and carefully climbed nearer the hanging cloak.
.................................................................
After verifying her sneaky sally hadn't been noticed by whoever was in the cave, Peggy slid quietly slid back down to
where the confused Constable waited. He constantly monitored his companion's movements over his shoulder as he
sat on a large wedge of fallen cliff and emptied his sodden boots of water. "Are the girls up there?" he hissed softly
as the little panting sorceress arrived at his side. "It's definitely the Kaffajinn's cubbyhole..." Peggy gasped, "...yer'
can see it tried te' hide it wiv' that bloomin' moss" she added and removed her hat due to the warm atmosphere.
Wilbur eyed their target and fastened his laces, Peggy hadn't answered his question and he wasn't sure this was
because she didn't know if the four young ladies were alive and in the cave or whether they had come to a profane
end and she was being nebulous. "Are the girls up there?" the weary law-enforcer asked again and kept his gaze
on the woman fiddling with her satchel.
Wilbur knew Janie Beesley had gone missing in mid-summer and Topsy Cantrell had disappeared a few days later.
The Cobb and Bottle striplings were taken almost two weeks ago and the amount of time that had passed since the
first abduction tended to lend weight that a new victim was needed. This didn't bode well in Wilbur's mind, as it could
indicate the original abducted lady had perished. Still, he said nothing and waited for the Little Witch's response.
If Constable Delphi held a feeling of control due to his query at that moment, it fled when Peggy looked up from her
fidgeting. "Do yer' have yer' bolt-thrower handy...?" she asked flatly and offered the policeman's eyes a threatening
glare. "...Ah' need yer' te' stand ready out here and shoot whatever comes out of that hole" he said and he could see
it wasn't a request.
Turning to face the hidden lair of the Kaffajinn, the bantam-sized sorceress gave another warning, although it was
said slightly in jest. "And divna' lookup me-poncho as Ah'm climbin' up... Ah knaw' what you bloomin' fellas are like"
she added with a small smirk. Wilbur's adam's apple moved up and down and reaching for his bundle, nodded in
the affirmative. Peggy -nor anyone else, would never be sure if the serious-faced man was acknowledging he would
ready himself for whatever may happen or refrain from copping an eye-full.
.................................................................
The light became a coward almost at once and left the creeping enchantress to her own devices around three paces
into the cave. The curtain of moss was a fellow-colluder in keeping what little daylight visited the gorge from giving
effulgence to Peggy's wary venture and she silently cussed at herself for not asking the tall man from Munderville
to cut it down.
The walls of the narrow cavern told its latest visitor that it had been born when the slab that Officer Delphi had used
to empty his brogans of water, had fallen into the gorge long before Peggy or Wilbur were born. However, the depth
of the cavity still rattled her noggin and with leery steps, the little invader walked onwards. It wasn't until Peggy felt
the surface of dried wood beneath her fingers, did she realise this section had once been a mine. The sound of the
long-forgotten lantern she accidentally kicked added to her assumption.
Drawing a bright flame from her thumb, the annoyed shaman accepted that any surprising ambush she had hoped for
was now out of the bag and peering into the silent caliginosity, she also concluded that if nothing happens in the next
few moments, then the lair of the Kaffajinn was further inland. Quickly checking behind her, Peggy's mind whispered
the words she'd heard in her dreams and in a faraway tavern called The Lost Traveller.
"Divna' you start" she hissed to herself and passing by the crumbling beams that once held up the ceiling, she spotted
something that stopped her traipse. It was a shoe, a young woman's shoe laid like a dead dog in the disturbed dust of
the cave's floor. But the tracks beside it informed the squinting spellbinder that the wearer didn't sport feet that would
fit into such footwear. It was little solace, but Peggy took it and felt a little more confident than she had before.
The Kaffajinn was using this cave and her hunch of how it took its prey had been correct all along. Now came the hard
part... getting the women back. That's if they're still alive, that is.
venture closer to see the irreflective disguise employed to hide its larger section. Peggy Powler had almost missed it
as her labour with the deepening stream disrupted her study to find the Kaffajinn's den, but it was the slight over-doing
of the dead hanging moss that tickled her fancy that she and Officer Delphi had detected what they'd been looking for.
"What is it?" the panting Policeman asked softly as he closed the space between himself and the woman unintentionally
showing the lower parts of her buttocks. Struggling pushing his heavy boots over the rubble-strewn bed of the warm-water
rindle was one thing, but avoiding the sight of the Witch's anatomy didn't help in his aquatic endeavour.
Without regard for the law-man's self-built constitution on necromancer's backsides, Peggy clambered out of the water
and like a lizard, scampered between the boulders on the stream's narrow bank. The design wasn't bad, she mentally
admired, the large blanket of dark-brown moss seemed to hang without any purchase to the surface of the cliff. But
if one peered closer -as the approaching necromancer was currently doing, they may notice a thin filigree of Earnest
Heinz's stolen fishing line connecting the mat of dried vegetation to roots dangling further up.
"Clever little bugger!" the Last Witch of Underhill mumbled to herself and carefully climbed nearer the hanging cloak.
.................................................................
After verifying her sneaky sally hadn't been noticed by whoever was in the cave, Peggy slid quietly slid back down to
where the confused Constable waited. He constantly monitored his companion's movements over his shoulder as he
sat on a large wedge of fallen cliff and emptied his sodden boots of water. "Are the girls up there?" he hissed softly
as the little panting sorceress arrived at his side. "It's definitely the Kaffajinn's cubbyhole..." Peggy gasped, "...yer'
can see it tried te' hide it wiv' that bloomin' moss" she added and removed her hat due to the warm atmosphere.
Wilbur eyed their target and fastened his laces, Peggy hadn't answered his question and he wasn't sure this was
because she didn't know if the four young ladies were alive and in the cave or whether they had come to a profane
end and she was being nebulous. "Are the girls up there?" the weary law-enforcer asked again and kept his gaze
on the woman fiddling with her satchel.
Wilbur knew Janie Beesley had gone missing in mid-summer and Topsy Cantrell had disappeared a few days later.
The Cobb and Bottle striplings were taken almost two weeks ago and the amount of time that had passed since the
first abduction tended to lend weight that a new victim was needed. This didn't bode well in Wilbur's mind, as it could
indicate the original abducted lady had perished. Still, he said nothing and waited for the Little Witch's response.
If Constable Delphi held a feeling of control due to his query at that moment, it fled when Peggy looked up from her
fidgeting. "Do yer' have yer' bolt-thrower handy...?" she asked flatly and offered the policeman's eyes a threatening
glare. "...Ah' need yer' te' stand ready out here and shoot whatever comes out of that hole" he said and he could see
it wasn't a request.
Turning to face the hidden lair of the Kaffajinn, the bantam-sized sorceress gave another warning, although it was
said slightly in jest. "And divna' lookup me-poncho as Ah'm climbin' up... Ah knaw' what you bloomin' fellas are like"
she added with a small smirk. Wilbur's adam's apple moved up and down and reaching for his bundle, nodded in
the affirmative. Peggy -nor anyone else, would never be sure if the serious-faced man was acknowledging he would
ready himself for whatever may happen or refrain from copping an eye-full.
.................................................................
The light became a coward almost at once and left the creeping enchantress to her own devices around three paces
into the cave. The curtain of moss was a fellow-colluder in keeping what little daylight visited the gorge from giving
effulgence to Peggy's wary venture and she silently cussed at herself for not asking the tall man from Munderville
to cut it down.
The walls of the narrow cavern told its latest visitor that it had been born when the slab that Officer Delphi had used
to empty his brogans of water, had fallen into the gorge long before Peggy or Wilbur were born. However, the depth
of the cavity still rattled her noggin and with leery steps, the little invader walked onwards. It wasn't until Peggy felt
the surface of dried wood beneath her fingers, did she realise this section had once been a mine. The sound of the
long-forgotten lantern she accidentally kicked added to her assumption.
Drawing a bright flame from her thumb, the annoyed shaman accepted that any surprising ambush she had hoped for
was now out of the bag and peering into the silent caliginosity, she also concluded that if nothing happens in the next
few moments, then the lair of the Kaffajinn was further inland. Quickly checking behind her, Peggy's mind whispered
the words she'd heard in her dreams and in a faraway tavern called The Lost Traveller.
"Divna' you start" she hissed to herself and passing by the crumbling beams that once held up the ceiling, she spotted
something that stopped her traipse. It was a shoe, a young woman's shoe laid like a dead dog in the disturbed dust of
the cave's floor. But the tracks beside it informed the squinting spellbinder that the wearer didn't sport feet that would
fit into such footwear. It was little solace, but Peggy took it and felt a little more confident than she had before.
The Kaffajinn was using this cave and her hunch of how it took its prey had been correct all along. Now came the hard
part... getting the women back. That's if they're still alive, that is.
Read The TV Guide, yer' don't need a TV.