Iris Wildthyme and the Celestial Omnibus by Paul Magrs & Stuart Douglas

Author:Paul Magrs & Stuart Douglas [Magrs, Paul & Douglas, Stuart]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Book, Prose, Anthology, Short Story
Publisher: Obverse Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

'You haven't seen the lawyers outside.' She paused. 'Say, you don't suppose your little friends can help us past them?'

A tiny robot tottered forward and grinned up at Iris.

'Teach us a song,' it squealed.

'I will,' Iris said, and smiled. 'Something nice, maybe some Patsy Cline.'

'I shall try to curb their enthusiasm, Iris,' Panda replied.

'For that lot?' she said. 'I think not.'

The children gathered around and started to sing, urging Henry to get off the phone. Iris took Panda by the paw and they walked to the exit, to other, more magical kingdoms.

The Scarlet Shadow

Stewart Sheargold

Iris stared into the bonfire, the flames flickering high, giving off sparks into the deep blue night sky. She had become quite hypnotised by their seductive warmth and playful dance. There were things in the fire, shapes cavorting and enticing her in to their dangerous embrace; but she knew it was the drink making her imagine things. Of course on some planets she would have cause to be worried, planets where fire was a breeding ground for evil spirits and elementals. But not here, here she was safe; here, she could relax. Here among the gypsies, nomadic people after her own heart.

The violins still scythed their plangent melody through the night. The gypsies danced with abandon, the women hitching up their skirts and throwing them about and tossing their long dark hair.

She was thinking about Baba Yaga with her long witch-like nose pushing herself about the Russian forests in her pestle. She was thinking about Baba Yaga's servant, Koschei the deathless, and whether he was more than just a myth these people had created to tell their children. They were a very mystical people, after all.

This had rather worked in her favour when she had appeared in her trusty old bus, as Panda had exasperatedly said, "Crash bang in the middle of it all again, Iris". Though secretly she thought he was just as pleased as her to drop straight from one adventure into the next without having to go looking for one. The gypsies had been alarmed to find a great red London double-decker bus in the midst of their camp in the middle of the forest, and had probably taken her to be Baba Yaga herself, such was the fear on their faces when she exited the bus. But she had calmed them down with a few choice words, like an experienced explorer placating a hitherto-undiscovered tribe, and they had welcomed her and Panda (with some joy from the children) into their caravan.

The men danced in staccato bursts, their footwork a stunning, overlapping tap-dance that no one could hope to learn.

Iris was rather enjoying herself just doing nothing much at all. She had rugged up against the cold Russian autumn in a great big fox skin fur coat, one of her favourites in fact, and she had drunk shots of vodka to keep herself warm against the night chill, and she had danced around the bonfire to the strains of frenetic violins until her legs had given way and she'd had to sit down.

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