Clumsilla's Flight Through Time and Taming of the Tokhashi Read online



  Clumsilla’s Flight Through Time

  and

  Taming of the Tokhashi

  by Linda Talbot

  Illustrations by Linda Talbot

  Copyright Linda Talbot 2014

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  Table of Contents

  Clumsilla's Flight Through Time

  Illustrations:-

  Zigana, the celestial gipsy

  The Giants Brawn and Scrawn

  Shirin and Laila, princesses from the Past

  Beldina and Bast, the Egyptian cat

  Clumsilla with Huff and the Wolgs

  Taming of the Tokhashi

  Illustrations:-

  Topsy, Turvy and Zazhak

  Feng Huang the phoenix

  The Prince Liu Sheng

  Yung ‘tai, the princess

  Rama the forgetful elephant

  Varuna (River God) and Agni (Fire God)

  The Tokhashi

  Thank you and blog address

  Author's Note and link to author's interview page

  CLUMSILLA'S FLIGHT THROUGH TIME

  Clumsilla is clumsy in class. She cannot make cakes. She cannot cut up frogs. She is befuddled by figures and fails to find words. She wishes she was elsewhere; flying through time instead of being told she is wasting it.

  So she dozes at her desk. Time ticks by and Clumsilla thinks, "If only it would fly and I was already in the Future!"

  Leaving school she has almost reached home when there is a flash of light and, swaying on the wall beside her she sees a woman's face framed by golden earrings and billowing black hair.

  "Who are you?" Clumsilla is alarmed.

  "I am Zigana, the celestial gipsy," replies the woman, "I heard you thinking of travelling through time. Since they built the motorways I've taken to it myself. That way I avoid the rush hours."

  "How did you hear my thoughts?" asks Clumsilla.

  "I can hear thoughts from the Past, Present and Future," replies Zigana, "And I can take you backwards to the Land of Legend and Lost Moments, forward to the Future or to the Lands where Time Stands Still or Moves Sideways."

  Zigana, the celestial gipsy

  Clumsilla feels that time has stood still long enough and as for moving sideways...THAT must feel like being blown off course by a high wind.

  Clumsilla knows of the Past; kings, queens and battles on horseback. She knows of the Future; men riding in rockets to the stars.

  "I'd like to travel to the Past, then fly to the Future," she says.

  "As you wish," says Zigana, "Of course no one goes to the Land of Legend and Lost Moments any more. Its inhabitants are hopelessly out of date. When was a child last frightened by a giant or go looking for fairies at the bottom of the garden? As for being spellbound!

  "Of the Future I know little, although being a gipsy, I am, of course, a fortune teller and can see clearly what will befall you Earthlings. If you don't first destroy yourselves, you might see the day when the Sun will grow so hot, it will burn up the Earth. Oceans will boil and the Sun will swell until the Earth is engulfed. But that will not happen for millions of years."

  "How shall I travel?" asks Clumsilla, thinking of those to be fried alive.

  "By carpet is most common," says Zigana.

  "But they're used for covering the floor."

  Zigana sighs. "Have you never heard of a magic carpet? There was a time in the East when there were more carpets than customers. You must have a hearth rug at home. Sit on it, think very hard about the Land of Legend and Lost Moments and remember to leave a window open."

  "Are you coming?" asks Clumsilla.

  "Yes, I'll ride on the wind and no doubt see you there."

  With a whoosh, she disappears and her great grey eyes are last to be drawn into the dusk.

  Clumsilla hurries home. Her mother is knitting. Her father is filling in the football pools. Boots, the cat, is yawning on the hearth rug. Clumsilla lifts him onto a chair and opens a window. Her parents look up in astonishment as she sits in the middle of the worn hearth rug, closes her eyes, and wishes.

  The rug does not stir. She wishes hard again. Then she feels a quiver and very slowly the rug lifts from the floor, hovers for a moment before the open window and flies through.

  The night air is cold, the sky pricked with countless stars. The hearth rug bumps, its fringes fluttering in the wind. Clumsilla clings to its sides and the soft silver face of the moon gazes at her curiously. A star shoots past and, knowing she should make a wish, Clumsilla wishes she was back home in bed.

  The rug flies on. But towards dawn it slows and soon the great glowing face of the sun stares in alarm at Clumsilla, turning her limbs to fire. Clumsilla wishes the hearth rug could converse. She hears a low groan.

  It is the hearth rug. "What do you mean by making me get up from the warm hearth and fly like this through the frozen sky?" it grumbles.

  "We're going to the Land of Legend and Lost Moments," says Clumsilla. The hearth rug complains, "It's all I can do to move at all. I'm very old you know. You have walked over me for years and that fat cat of yours has sat on me for so long it's amazing I've flown this far." But it flaps on.

  Suddenly Clumsilla sees a rolling desert of pale sand. Then a great green garden with a palace shimmering like golden glass at one end. The hearth rug plunges and lands with a FLUP in the grass.

  Zigana has disappeared, although Clumsilla thinks she sees her face; here, in the heart of a flower and there, in a low floating cloud. But where are the garden's inhabitants? Nothing stirs as Clumsilla walks cautiously towards the palace, passing enormous pots and stumbling down a steep flight of steps. Then she hears shouts. She passes along a passage glimmering with gold and steps into the sunlight.

  A tangle of bizarre beings struggle on the grass. There are two hairy giants wrestling, a witch with a purple face and two princesses, shrieking and snatching at each other's crowns. They are watched by a dignified black cat with a pink ring in its ear and a baby dragon trying to breathe fire but producing only small puffs of grey smoke.

  Clumsilla cries above the noise, "What ARE you fighting about?"

  At first the beings from the Land of Legend and Lost Moments do not hear her, then one of the giants with a hooked nose and long earrings, disentangles himself saying, "Ah - a CHILD - it's all YOUR fault! You children are laughing at us. Once you feared our footsteps. What is more, witches cast spells, carpets flew and as for dragons breathing fire..."

  The princesses stand up, their crowns crooked and with open mouths gaze at Clumsilla in her school clothes. They wear golden gowns and silver slippers.

  "Well, I'M glad to be here," says Clumsilla, "And my hearth rug can fly as fast as any magic carpet. I'm travelling through time and after visiting you, I shall fly into the Future. Why don't you come with me since all you do here is quarrel?"

  The hook-nosed giant says, "If there are children to terrify, we might consider your suggestion. Let us introd
uce ourselves. I am Brawn, a giant of great renown." And pointing to his companion, who wears even longer earrings and whose spiky hair stands on end, says, "This is Scrawn. We do most things together but have been known to fall out."

  The Giants Brawn and Scrawn

  Indicating the princesses, he adds, "These are Shirin and Laila. They're Persian. They don't get on too well either. And this is Huff, the dragon who huffs and puffs but nothing happens."

  Shirin and Laila, princesses from the Past

  Then with a flourish, pointing to the straggle-haired witch, he says, "This is Beldina, the most wonderful witch from the Past. She is extremely evil and turns little girls into toads."

  Clumsilla shivers and asks, "What is your cat called?" The black cat sneers.

  "Bast," snaps Beldina. "She is Egyptian and very sacred so I suggest you get on your knees at once and worship her."

  Clumsilla thinks of Boots lying in an untidy heap at home and retorts, "ME - worship a CAT? What nonsense!"

  Bast growls and says, "Cats always came first in Egypt. Anyone who killed a cat was executed. The house where one of my ancestors lived caught fire. The cat of course was saved, while everyone else was