Episode 3 - Chapter 43

I found the torch under the sink, where she always leaves it. Returning to the cellar door, I heard Oak tell Dad not to move.

I passed him the torch, which he shone into the dark below.

The light found Dad quickly, picking out his prone body covered with boxes and cans, an old table lamp and an unloved food processor. Nearby, a bag of old clothes had split open and countless books, magazines and papers had spilt across the floor.

Oak began to descend again, slowly.

“Why can't I ask about Fiona?” I whispered to Mum, once I was sure he wouldn't hear.

Episode 3 - Chapter 42

“Will one of you just come down and help me?” I shouted.

“Not until I know what's down there.” Oak replied.

“Oh for god's sake,” I sighed. I started pulling at my trapped arm, while pushing the box.

“I'm sorry, Edward” Oak shouted. “I have to be sure you're not simply bait.”

I could feel my sleeve starting to rip, but my arm was coming free.

“What's that noise?” asked Oak.

“Only me, trying to get free.”

“Stop now.” Oak shouted. “Just give me a moment to figure this out.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 41

“What happened?” I shouted into the dark.

“Thought I heard something,” my husband croaked, “banged my head and fell.”

“Why didn't you turn the light on?”

“Bulb went. And you've moved the torch.”

“Did I? Robert, go and check in the kitchen.”

As my eldest did as he was told, Oak asked “Is there something down there.”

“I don't know,” came the reply.

“Are you hurt?” I shouted.

“Don't think so. Just pinned down and a bit sore. We've got to do something about all this junk.”

“For now,” said Oak, “The junk can wait.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 40

 “And now we are so much more. Now we are nuclear meltdown and global warming. Now we are global pandemics and terrorist attacks, alien invasions, natural disasters and apocalyptic doom. We are hunger and poverty and disease, we are government repression and misinformation, we are accidents waiting to happen, we are fear of your neighbours and concern for a child. We are every dark thought that the human mind has ever played host to and so much more. But I tell you this, we are something else as well!”

“Oh yes, what's that then?”

“We are hope.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 39

“Tasty,” they chime in unison, sniffing as they weave around each other and Fiona. With a darting motion, Tallulah snatches a piece.

“Hey,” Fiona shouts, but her distraction allows Bhoomi to do the same.

“Stop!” she commands, “We can share.”

“Now see here, fine ladies,” a voice bellows from nearby. Turning, they see a squat, red faced man stood by three barrels is addressing them. “A feast for the mind, to accompany your meal. See here, three barrels: one of babble, the second empty, the third of sense. Which has most use? Let a choosing commence.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 38

“The food of legends?”

“There are many tales in which someone is poisoned by an apple. So best to avoid apples. Less tales where someone is poisoned by toast.”

“Great, I'm starving.” She makes towards a cart with sizzling meat, then returns. “How do I pay?”

“I very much doubt that any trader here would accept a coin from you, m'lady.”

The man who serves her is shy, presenting her food with his head bowed. The meal consists of strips of marinated roasted meat cut from the bone, sandwiched in a chunk of bread and garnished.

Fiona's just about to take a bite when the cats appear from nowhere.

Episode 3 - Chapter 37

“Thank you,” she smiles at the hand.

Strauss takes the apple from her, returning it to the pile. “I would advise against it, m'lady.”

“Oh. Why?”

“While every apple may not be poisoned, there are enough poisoned apples here in the Weave that it may be.”

They pass through the market, passing golden swords, giant horns, teeth the size of men, helmets covered with LEDs and tiny antenna, creatures in cages with six arms and beaks, fish with wings zipping round giant birdcages, fabrics that shimmer or sparkle or aren't really there, and everywhere they go, the smells of cooking food.

Realising how hungry she is, “Can I eat anything here?” Fiona asks Strauss.

“Of course,” he replies, “Just avoid the food of legends.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 36

Other stalls she can see are full of what she'd expect: fruit and veg, cheese, meat, bread. Some of it she recognizes, bananas, loaves, chickens both alive and dead. But so much more of what's for sale is mysterious: funny shaped boxes, weapons from the past and future, and so many selling livestock both familiar and strange. One has a sign “Dwarves: Two For One!” while another sports a crimson Bentley with silver trim and a strange logo on the doors. There are barrels and jugs, pelts and fabrics, powders and potions.

They pause for a moment by a car sized book piled high with blue apples. An arm reaches out of the pile, offering one to Fiona.

Episode 3 - Chapter 35

As they walk towards the staring crowd, it parts to allow them passage, a corridor of people and creatures from her wildest dreams and beyond.

As they pass, some in the crowd nod their heads or tug at hat brims. A few mumble “M'lady,” under their breath, as if afraid to speak to her. A young girl covered with scales curtsies low, smiling.

Fiona approaches a stall piled high with bell jars and boxes. In one jar a spider glowing gently, in another an emerald ring, in a long thin box there's a walking can, in another a syringe, and everywhere there's all manner of brightly coloured fabric.

Episode 3 - Chapter 34

“A wake walker?”

“A visitor like yourself, fully awake with their faculties intact. Now come, let us show you the market, they'll grow used to you soon enough. Nothing stays wondrous in the Weave for long.”

He offers her his arm, which she takes. It has a reassuring solidity to it.

“Maybe not for you,” she replies, “But you should see the real world, its got nothing like this.”

“Ah, a chance to walk in the Warp. If only. But we're afraid we are too lowly, and our allegiances not clearly defined, to ever experience such an honour.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 33

His speech is very slow and precise, almost hypnotic, so it takes Fiona a moment to notice that much of the crowd has halted its business in order to stare at her instead. In fact, only the people in pyjamas or nightwear are not staring.

“Erm, Mister Strauss, am I in trouble being here?”

“Why no, m'lady, of course not. Why would you think such a thing?”

She indicates the crowd. “Everybody's looking at me.”

“That is to be expected. The market of fictions contains many wonders, but a wake walker is a rare sight, even here.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 32

Fiona pauses for a moment, something about his greeting bothering her.

“Did you say 'without official sanction'?”

“We are sorry to inform you that we did, m'lady.”

“Sanction from who? And why was it refused.”

“Sanction from one of the Elder Princes. But it was not refused, nor even sought. We chanced upon you just this moment and took the opportunity upon ourselves.”

“Then why mention it at all?”

“So as to be clear. No doubt each of the shadow lords will make presentation in due time, welcoming you to their realm. We make no such claim.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 31

“I'm sorry?” Fiona asks, turning.

Before her is a tall, thin man wearing a foot length coat, buttoned at the front with a hood pulled over to hide half his face.

“We are sorry to disturb you,” he says, “but you seemed somewhat overwhelmed, and a lady of your stature should require formal welcome to this august institution. We would welcome you, without, alas, official sanction, to the market of fictions.”

“And who are you?”

“We are Johann Baptist Strauss, and we are at your service.”

“Thank you, I think. It certainly looks wild in there.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 30

A conversation continues...

 “Me!?! How could you think such a thing?”

“For countless millennia you've pried and pricked and wormed your way into the Warp without rhyme or reason or purpose. Spreading what chaos you could, you were like the wind, a primal force battering against the edges of the physical.”

“Yes. And...?”

“Look at you now, dressed in your fine suit, putting on airs and graces, the very picture of a noble lord. You were the beast unseen in the night, you were the shadows that couldn't be lit, you were the terror of the unknown.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 29

Mum gave me one of her looks.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Just don't,” she whispered, “I'll tell you when I can.”

There was a grunt from the darkness, accompanied by the clanks and thuds of unseen property being rudely pushed away.

“Edward?” Mum shouted again

“Mary?” Dad shouted back. “I'm trapped down here.”

Oak, halfway down now, paused. “What has you trapped?”

“I'm not sure, a box of some kind. It has my sleeve.”

“This box,” Oak asked quickly, “Does it have teeth?”

“I can't tell, why?”

“It may be a chatterbox!”

Episode 3 - Chapter 28

I think I may have been unconscious for a moment or two. I'd lost my footing after I cracked my head, tumbling into rickety shelving, bringing the whole thing down on myself.

The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back, buried in junk, aching all over with a bucket on my head. I groaned, then heard Mary call my name.

My left arm was pinned under something heavy, but my right was free. I pushed the bucket from my head, grunting from the exertion. In front of me, Oak crept down the stairs, uncoiling line with one hand, lighter held out with the other.

Episode 3 - Chapter 27

“Edward?” I shouted when we heard the groan. I started to go down when Oak held me back.

“We don't know what's down there, Mary” he said. “Caution first.” With that, he began to descend tentatively. Pausing on the first step, he asked if I had any washing line. I was pleased to say I did, and quickly fetched that too.

Tying one end to the cellar door, he wrapped the other round his hand, then began to walk down.

Once he was half way, I elbowed Robert in the ribs and hissed quietly “Don't ask about Fiona!”

Episode 3 - Chapter 26

I was just beginning to wonder where my wife was, and was about to ask when we heard a commotion coming from the cellar.

Oak was first to the cellar door, peering into the darkness below. “Edward,” he called out, but there was no reply. Turning to mum, he asked for a torch.

“It's down there,” she replied meekly. “But there's a lighter in the kitchen.” She brought it quickly, Oak snatching it from her hand and testing the flame.

He was about to descend when a long, ethereal moan came up out of the dark.

Episode 3 - Chapter 25

“Up and down these stairs like a bloomin' yo-yo today.” I was speaking to myself, of course, as I walked down the cellar steps.

The bulb sparked and died as I tried to turn the light on. We keep a torch nearby for when this happens, so I started feeling around for it, grasping in the dark. My hand found the shelf where it usually resides, but it wasn't there.

“Blast it, Mary” I said to myself, “Why can't you put anything back?”

Sighing as I walked back up, I heard a creak behind me. Instinctively turning to look, I cracked my head on the lintel and fell.

Episode 3 - Chapter 24

My husband did as he was told, chuntering to himself as he made for the cellar.

Oak kept pacing, starring at his fingers while doing some sort of calculations. “Broken promises are usually faster, but this house isn't usual,” I heard him say. “Lost principals might have the advantage, their affiliations and all that, but then there's the doors to consider.”

He continued on like that for a while, but none of it made much sense so I stopped listening. That was when I noticed Robert's eyes darting, searching the room and I realised he was looking for Fiona.

Episode 3 - Chapter 23

His eyes were so deep and his voice so intense that all I could think was that he was what war looked like, personified. That moment was the most frightened I'd ever been.

He began to pace the room. “We need to ensure nothing disturbs our mirror cage. Last thing we want is that thing getting out.”

“There's an old fire guard in the cellar,” Dad told him, “That might help.”

“Good. Go get it. And bring anything else you think might be useful.”

“With this game, how am I to know what's useful?” Dad quipped.

Episode 3 - Chapter 22

“Well then,” Mary said, “I'll make us some tea.”

“No time for that. All of you, be on your guard. The next one could come in any form. If you see anything out of the ordinary, you tell me!”

Robert snorted when he heard that. “Out of the ordinary,” he said to no one. “Whatever could he mean?”

“This isn't the time for stupidity or weak will, boy” Oak responded. “What's coming is a wave of monstrous proportions that could wash away this house and all of us in it. Frivolity will get you killed, or worse.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 21

The smoke cleared to reveal Oak sat alone in the centre of the room, a white rose in his hand.

“What happened?” Robert asked. “Is she dead?”

“Not dead, no” Oak replied. “Our kind rarely, truly die. Not through encounters with the Weave, anyway.” He looked at us as he said this, darkness etched in his brow. “Rose has been forced to retire, return to the forest and recuperate.”

“What happens now?” I asked.

“Now,” he sighed wearily, “The assassin is contained. It wont be long before the house is jumping with all manner of creep and ghoul and bump in the night. Then we can sort this mess out.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 20

 “Bugger my small talk, why am I here?”

“Because you graciously accepted my invitation.”

“You left me no choice!”

“Come now, the Forest always has a choice. Bury the house, take care of the family et voila, your precious balance is restored.”

“That wasn't an option.”

“It's what your kind have always done before.”

“That's the last resort. Always the last resort.”

“It wasn't always so. There was a time when an earthquake or landslide, a bush fire or volcanic eruption or indeed any other manner of natural disaster was your preferred method. What's changed?”

“You have.”

Episode 3 - Chapter 19

Everywhere she looks there are books and scrolls, parchments and pamphlets, volumes and tomes. Some are normal, everyday books, but some are huge, wider than a bus, taller than a house, smaller than a thumbnail, scrolls like pillars. It's the books that form the fabric of the market, as props or counters or walls between stalls, books piled high to make flights of stairs and giant scrolls as benches. Some books are ancient, bound in leather and gold, some are clasped or locked, while others are open, pages flapping in the breeze. There are even books that are writing themselves, words appearing on oversized pages before her eyes.

“M'lady” says a voice that startles her. “Welcome to the Market of Fictions.”