The bandit held the rusty sword aloft and lunged for them.

"No!" Tira's blue eyes were wide as she held up one of her glowing pebbles and chucked it, deliberately aiming at the ground near the outlaw. There was a small explosion on the cobbles and the bandit jumped back and stumbled. Jemmy was ready though, and leapt forward, hitting the cloaked figure over the head with the flat of his blade. The bandit lay stunned.

"Tis a bandit," said the fruit vendor. "One of them bandits that kill folk. An' that stole from the chapel."

"Then the bandit must be questioned," said Jemmy.

They had soon tied the bandit up and removed the rags from around her head to find that she was a woman. One with waxy skin and a scarred face. She came to her senses, staring bleary eyed at them.

"I understand you have stolen something of value from the chapel," said Jemmy.

"Yoo thought wrong," sneered the outlaw. "That was the Master Brigand. He with two blades."

"Ar," agreed the fruit vendor. "That thar Master Brigand kills folk. Kills em dead. 'E's their ringleader."

"He'll find out how yoo treated me," said the bandit woman. "Then your lives won' be worth nothin'. The Master Brigand tortures his enemies."

Tira put a green hand to her mouth, her blue eyes wide. Jemmy knew how she felt.

"That 'e does," said the fruit vendor. "'E sticks their hands and heads up as trophies."

"Tell us where this rascal hides away," Jemmy demanded of the bandit woman.

The scar across her mouth moved as she sneered at him. "Or what, boy? Are yoo goin' to make it worth my while?" She blew a kiss at him. "I'd pay to hire you for a night."

Tira scowled at the bandit. "You're being very rude."

"I'll take it from here," said Gloom. He pointed at Tira. "Well bandit, we have someone even more frightening than the Master Brigand. A witch. Her green skin is but the outward manifestation of her twisted nature. Do you dare find out what her green fingers can do? Turn you into a cockroach, perhaps?"

Tira's mouth fell open in indignation and Jemmy patted her arm.

The bandit looked uneasy. "Just keep ‘er away. I don' want trouble with no 'orrible witch."

"Her profane magic will warp you beyond recognition if you don't tell us what we want to hear," said Gloom in a sing-song voice.

"Gloom!" Tira put her hands to her hips and glared at the imp. "How can you say these things about me?"

Fortunately, the bandit was still intimidated, although Jemmy thought Tira was being remarkably slow on the uptake.

"Alright, I'll tell yoo. In the woods to the south. Then south-east. The fortress is there."

00O00

Tira, Jemmy and Gloom made their way through the dense woods. Tira and Jemmy held hands, and Gloom perched on the witch's shoulder. Tira was lighter on her feet than Jemmy. In fact, the brambles and branches actually seemed to part for her.

"I still think it was wrong to tell those lies about me, Gloom," said Tira, pouting. "I get that you were tricking the bandit, but even so… I don’t want to hurt anyone."

"It's all in the spirit of trickery, Mistress," said Gloom.

"I'm sorry, but the spirit of trickery doesn't make it better," argued Tira, turning her green face to him.

Jemmy smiled, suppressing a laugh. "What does it matter what the creepy bandit thinks? We know the real Tira. We can't get by without her. "

"Oh. I do see what you mean Jemmy," said Tira, turning her face to him.

"Oh sure, you'll see what he means," grumbled Gloom. "Witches and their biases… Listen, you're going to have to kill the Master Brigand. You get that right? If you don't he'll kill you, and the yokels too."

"I don't ever wanna kill!" protested Tira, wrinkling her shiny green nose in disgust. "There's gotta be a way round that…" She thought hard. "Mistress Crowfoot could turn bandits into other things… but I thought she was so mean, turning that bandit into a spider." The witch girl shuddered.

"What a fate!" Jemmy concurred.

"' Course, she couldn't turn him into a one hundred percent spider," said Tira. "She just shrank him and gave him eight legs and a hairy body and turned him loose. That's cruel… if she'd been as kind as she could, she'd have turned him into something harmless and pretty and taken care of him."

"Wow. How profound," said Gloom with a sneer. "Why don't all witches flock to you to learn about ethics in black magic?"

"Tira is exactly right," said Jemmy. "The way she describes it, a very dangerous man can be made safe, and still get to live."

"Hold on, guys…" Tira halted. "I need to do some reading. Gotta make sure I can do it."

They sat down in a clearing and Tira took her spell book out of her satchel and leafed through it. Jemmy and Gloom shared salted pork from their stock of provisions as Tira pored over the weird diagrams on the page.

Curious, Jemmy looked over her shoulder. "A lot of drawings of weird hand gestures."

Tira looked up and smiled at him. "Yes. A witch must use her hands to make her magic work. Mistress Crowfoot had to do really weird hand movements to turn the bandit into a spider that night."

Jemmy remembered how the magistrates and Hollowell had bound Tira's hands in those weird shackles made of rings and wires. "To think you can do terrible things with your hands alone. But you're still a completely non-threatening witch."

She pulled a funny face at him. "Oh, thanks."

After a while, Tira closed the book. "OK, I know what I'm supposed to do." She flicked a strand of blond hair away from her face and looked anxious. "Oh Shekka, I hope I get it right."

Jemmy put his arms around her middle. "I can't help with magic, but I have faith in you."

She squirmed and giggled.

"Are you ticklish?" he asked.

She giggled. "Yes."

"If you think this whole detour is worth it, hadn't you better get on?" said Gloom. "We've got bandits to make mincemeat of."

"Not make mincemeat of," argued Tira. "We only have to catch the leader." She sighed. "I don't wanna fight."

"I have to agree with the imp," said Jemmy. "The bandits are scoundrels who terrorise the innocent. If we can catch their leader with no bloodshed, all well and good. Otherwise, we shouldn't shy away from a fight."

"We've been in one dangerous thing after another," said the witch, gazing at him with wide blue eyes. "I've worried about you each time, 'cause you're not magic." The corners of her indigo lips twitched downwards.

"Turn that frown upside-down, Tira," urged Jemmy. "This is just another adventure."

She stuck out her bottom lip. "And what if it goes like the 'adventure' with the Canker?"

"I laugh in the face of danger, like a real warrior," said Jemmy grandly. "I'll make you laugh about it."

"Oh? How?"

"Like this." He tickled her around her ribs, making her scream with laughter, her skinny arms flailing.

When he stopped tickling, she clutched him. She was breathing heavily, her blond hair dishevelled.

"Not fair," Tira said, pouting. "I didn't wanna laugh." She nuzzled her cold nose against his. He could feel her heart beating against his chest.

Such a good-tempered girl, Jemmy thought. His sister got huffy when he tickled her.

"If you've both finished being strange, we've bandits to beat," said Gloom, hopping from one clawed foot to another. "And in case you'd forgotten, I've got to cast an invisibility spell, or you won’t get far.”

00O00

Holding Tira's clammy hand in his, Jemmy felt a thrill of foreboding as the trees thinned out and they saw a ruined keep in a great clearing. Gloom was perched on Tira's shoulder. Jemmy really hoped the imp's invisibility spell was working.

The main gate to the keep was flanked by guard towers. The three of them crept through the gate and towards the keep. No one seemed to see them. One bandit actually looked straight through them. Jemmy marvelled at how useful his friends' magic was proving to be, yet again.

A bandit with a wolf-hound on a leash went past them. The wolf-hound growled and snarled as they went past. The bandit jerked the leash. "Shuttup, stoopid mutt."

It was deeply unsettling to see decaying heads stuck on spikes near the door to the keep. Tira shuddered, and if possible, looked even more green.

The three of them slipped into a bare, stone corridor and crept down a spiral flight of steps, there way lit by flickering torches. At the bottom of the stairs was another corridor, leading to a heavy wooden door. They heard a gruff man's voice within.

"Don't want to hear excuses… Or it'll be your head decorating a spike outside. Understand? Or better yet, I'll toss you to the bonebeast."

"Yes, Master Brigand." The mumbling of another man and then the door opened, and an unkempt burly bandit came running out passing them by, and then ran up the stairs.

They pushed open the door and found themselves in a stone room, lavishly decorated with tapestries. A muscular man with fine mustachios was counting out his ill-gotten gains on an oak table. He gave a start and whirled round, glaring at them. "You dare intrude here, boy, monkey and freakish green girl?"

"Monkey?" Gloom seethed. "Aah… I suppose it's a good a time as any to point out my invisibility spell just wore off?"

The Master Brigand picked up pair of blades, one in each hand. The one in his right hand glowed with a faintly blue light. He lunged for them and Tira, her blue eyes wide and panicked, raised her green hands and yelled a stream of gibberish words, making weird, complicated, interweaving gestures with her green fingers.

Just as Jemmy raised his own sword, there was a flash of pink smoke and the Master Brigand shrank with startling speed, like he was imploding in on himself, until he was just a pink blob, sitting on his leather armour. The blob hopped. The villain had been transmogrified into a pink frog! Tira staggered and Gloom leapt off her shoulder. The witch would have fallen if Jemmy hadn't caught her.

"Thanks, dear." She looked at him with bleary eyes, her green face glowing with a sheen of perspiration.

"That spell casting taken it out of you, Mistress?" said Gloom.

"Uh huh. I feel like I've run miles," said Tira.

"You'll never get away," croaked a tiny little voice. It was the pink frog speaking. It was glaring at them. Jemmy hadn't known that frogs could glare, but this one did. If looks could kill… "I'll get you for this, foul witch!"

Tira staggered over to the frog and scooped him up in her green hands. "There there now, you can't hurt anyone anymore, and I'll take care of you. It's better this way. And aren't you pretty? All pink."

Gloom sniggered audibly. "She's your Mistress now. Like it or not. Welcome to the rest of your life, Master Brigand."

"I'll kill you all!" the frog belched out in his tiny voice.

Tira plumped herself down on the ornately carved chair, beside the table, still clutching the frog. "Sorry boys, I need to sit down. I don't feel too good."

"You'll never get out of here alive," croaked the frog. "My idiot minions will have worked out there are intruders by now."

"He makes a good point," said Gloom, shuffling on his clawed feet. "I doubt you can do anymore magic today, Mistress."

Jemmy gazed down at the blade on the floor that glowed with a blue light and picked it up. On the blade were etched the letters of the word, "Deliverer." The warrior grasped the hilt and lifted the sword. It felt very light in his grasp. He cut the air, marvelling at the superior craftsmanship of the blade.

"This is the blade of a true warrior," he said aloud. "The blade of Gawain himself."

"That's mine!" croaked the frog, glaring with his bulging yellow eyes.

"Like you could wield it now," scoffed Gloom.

Tira smiled wanly at Jemmy. "You deserve the best blade."

Jemmy pondered their problem. "If it comes to fighting our way out…"

"You're outnumbered. You'd have to kill twenty hardened cutthroats," jeered the frog.

"No!" protested Tira. "There must be another way."

"Oh, but there is," said the frog, sounding oddly smug. "An escape route that leads underground and then out into the woods."

Tira ran her green fingers through her blond hair. "Sounds like it's our only chance."

"I don't trust this slimy little critter at all," said Gloom. "But you have a point, Mistress. I can't cast another invisibility spell any time soon."

After they had gathered up the coins on the wooden table with the intention of returning them to the village, the frog bandit urged them to find a crack in the back wall of the stone room. After Jemmy gave it some experimental prodding, a section of the wall slid away to reveal a vast rocky cave, with massive bones strewn everywhere. The light from the torches in the Master Brigand's lair cast a flickering light on the calcified remains. They were much too large to be human bones. Much too large to be any kind of animal bones for that matter.

A damp chill hung in the air.

"Something's wrong…" muttered Gloom. "I'm getting a sense of magic, heavy on this place, but there was nothing magical at all about the bandits."

"Old bones everywhere," said Jemmy, nudging one with his foot. "Where did they come from and what are they?"

And it seemed there was life in the old bones yet… as they entered the chamber, some of the bones started to move, rattling across the stone floor towards each other, joining as if they remembered how they once connected in life.

Tira gasped and Jemmy's scalp crawled.

The frog gave a weird, croaky laugh. "Ignorant upstarts. Now you will die!"

The bones had taken the form of a living fossil – the skeleton of some eons dead reptile, one which stood on two mighty legs and had a lashing tail. The elongated jaws of the Bonebeast snapped open and shut as it lunged at them…