Tung and Madrick appeared as instantaneously as they had disappeared. They'd hurtled into the twenty-first century naked and confused. Both men crashed heavily to the ground. Tung hit it head first as usual but amazingly there was no pain because this time he'd hit sand. The pair had landed on a beach somewhere.
A couple of minutes of head-holding and eye-rubbing restored their senses enough for them to take in their surroundings. To their left, waves sloshed onto the yellow beach while to their right a row of tiny wooden huts stared out to sea. The little houses were tightly packed, extremely colourful and looked well-constructed.
"I'm freezing," said Tung, folding his arms and drawing up his knees to protect his naked extremities from the icy wind.
"And it's starting to get dark so it'll be even colder soon."
"At least there's no one else around, so maybe luck is looking out for us."
"You call this lucky? Have you looked at us?"
Their nudity was mortifyingly uncomfortable, even worse than the last time they'd been naked together, at least then they'd been invisible.
"We need to get indoors and dressed as quickly as possible. Come on, let's move."
They crept up to the nearest of the houses on all fours. Actually it was on 'all threes' because each was using one hand in a futile attempt to maintain some dignity. They moved awkwardly, like a couple of three-legged dogs who'd yet to get used to their missing limbs.
"Shhh," said Tung as he pressed his ear against the door.
"Well?" whispered Madrick.
"I think it's empty."
"Are you sure?"
"Look. The doors are bolted and padlocked on the outside. That means it must be empty."
"Unless there's a back door."
Tung pressed his ear harder against the wood. "It's empty."
After a short search, he found what he needed to prise open the lock. In no time at all they were inside.
"You're quite skilled at that."
"Years of practice," said Tung as he pulled the doors closed behind them.
A quick rummage around the single-room dwelling revealed a few clothes and some blankets, enough to keep them warm and restore some semblance of dignity. A bag of sickly sweet biscuits completed their haul. Back in their day, sugar was almost unheard of so the biscuits tasted superbly unusual.
"Wow, my tongue is all wet and tingly and alive. Can I have another one?"
"I can tell you're going to like it here," said Madrick.
"Hey, you have to try sitting in this," said Tung as he settled into a rather ordinary, tatty armchair. "It's softer than a... a... I don't know. I've never felt anything as soft and comfortable."
"And look at this," said Madrick, holding up a Sellotape dispenser."
"What is it?"
"I have no idea but it's beautiful."
When the foraging in the room was exhausted, they moved on to the house next door and then on to the next.
Fascination, awe and wonderment dominated their scavenger hunt. Questions abounded.
"How can wood be so smooth?"
"What's this made of?" They'd never seen plastic, concrete, aluminium, china, rubber, cardboard or toffee.
"What the hell is this for?" Lego, a stapler, a vacuum cleaner, a model helicopter and a hand-shaped fly swatter were among the many things which prompted this question.
After gathering more clothes, a pair of shoes each, some food provisions, two large knives and a good handful of silver coins, they went back to the biggest, most luxurious hut they'd come across.
"Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb," said Tung as he settled into a comfy armchairs.
Madrick studied one of the coins.
"Have you seen this, Tung?"
"What?"
"It's not round which means people are still clipping pieces off the coins."
"The slivers of silver add up over time. Come on, we all used to do it."
"I know, I was just pointing out that nothing much has changed."
"How much are those things worth anyway? Are we rich?"
"Well it says 'fifty pence'. I've no idea how much that is, however fifty anythings can't be bad. But look, the coin also says 2008 and there's a lady's head; a regal-looking lady with a crown."
"A woman queen?" said Tung.
"Unlikely," said Madrick who remembered childhood stories about an ancient queen called Boadicea. That hadn't ended well, so surely people wouldn't make the same mistake again? "But didn't you hear me? 2008. This coin was minted in the year 2008."
Tung did the maths. "So we jumped about a hundred years, wow." His maths wasn't great.
"A hundred years? No. We've jumped a thousand years."
Tung shrugged his shoulders. He came from the 'one, two, three, many' school of counting so to him, a hundred and a thousand were both gigantic numbers which he couldn't get his head round. "So we jumped a thousand years, wow."
A thousand years, Madrick mused, if that was truly the distance of their time jump, then things were going to be mightily different. They were the epitome of strangers in a strange land.
Darkness was winning the battle with the moonlight, so staying put for the night was definitely a good idea. This place seemed quiet and safe, and they needed time to recover and get their bearings. Tung slept while Madrick browsed through a selection of books which were strewn round the room. The language was a little strange but he quickly adapted his reading to cope. Amazing pictures of wonderful foodstuffs, great cities, fantastic machines and people in strange costumes adorned the pages. He read prolifically while Tung snored noisily in the corner. Eventually the moon gave up its struggle and darkness claimed the night. Madrick could no longer make out even the pictures so he reluctantly gave up and joined Tung in sleep.
It was an uneasy sleep because his dreams constantly reminded him of the wondrous things he'd seen in the books. He was wide awake at first light and wasted no time in getting back to his studying.
'A History of Britain Through the Ages' was his favourite so far. Inside the front cover was a list of all the English monarchs. He smiled when he saw Boadicea and noticed there had in fact been some queens since her; a couple of Marys, Anne, Victoria and two Elizabeths and the lady on the coin was Elizabeth II... who'd have guessed.
After a quick look at events from his day; Alfred the Great, the invading Danes and the story of King Cnut, he moved on to the photographs of medieval ruins; ruins of buildings which he remembered as newly built. Weird, but he'd have to get used to the fact that they'd skipped a thousand years and the world had moved on without them.
Fascinating as this was, curiosity got the better of him so he skipped to the end of the book and started reading backwards. Every page held a new wonder. Every page showed what an incredible world they'd arrived into.
He was transfixed by what he read and saw but he wasn't overawed. His training as a wizard had introduced him to the most fantastical phenomena. These modern things, which now surrounded him, were amazing but they were no more amazing than the magical things he'd seen in wizard school. He'd adapt just fine, but would Tung?
Under the heading 'Chapter 25 – Technology and Innovation' was a quote which read 'Clarke's 3rd Law - any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic'. What a fascinating thought, eventually science would explain all the things he'd been taught were magic. And apparently what Clarke said was true, because it was a law; Clarke's 3rd Law. He wondered what Clarke's first two laws were. No ideas sprung to mind so he got back to his reading.
The inventions section particularly intrigued him because he loved gadgets and contraptions. He read about steam power and trains, the internal combustion engine and motor cars, and then he 'discovered' electricity.
"Oooh, oooh, oooh," he said as he leafed through pages of incredible gadgets all powered by the mystical force which was electricity.
He scanned the room, was there electricity here?
"Aha. I recognise you." His eyes flicked from the picture to the light switch. With a little trepidation he flipped it down. The room was instantly bathed in a soft, yellow light. He clapped his hands as he played with the switch - off, on, off, on, off, on. He could do this all day, although all night would make more sense. If only he'd discovered this sooner, he wouldn't have wasted the hours of darkness by sleeping.
What else was here? He returned to the book and read the captions under the pictures of other electric machines.
"Oooh, I recognise you, and you, and you," he said as he spotted more and more of the illustrated gadgets in the room around him.
Before long, he'd worked out how to plug them in; it was obvious because the plug fitted the socket precisely. He plugged in anything which had a plug and turned knobs and pushed buttons. The radio wouldn't work but he had more success with the toaster. It certainly got hot however he realised too late that the slots weren't for warming your hands and, for that matter, the hair-straighteners weren't for warming your nose either. He had a lot to learn and clearly some of the lessons were going to be painful. The burns didn't dampen his enthusiasm as he moved towards the plug in the corner of the room; the plug on the television.
"What? What? What the...?"
Moving pictures, more colours than a double rainbow and incredible, ear-tingling sound.
"Tung. Tung, wake up."
"What's happening?" shouted a startled Tung. "Have they found us?"
"No, look at this."
A twenty-four hour news channel filled the screen. The pair were fixated, a constant stream of wows, ooohs and aaahs escaped their lips as story after story mesmerised them. Weather forecasts regularly interrupted the news stories. Neither of them understood the mystical symbols which peppered the weather maps but it was nice to know that at least one of the old spells had survived. Madrick's thoughts drifted back to Clarke's 3rd Law. Maybe, just maybe, one day, science would be able to explain how it was possible to forecast the weather but frankly, that seemed highly unlikely.
"I'll wager that the accuracy of the forecasting hasn't improved since we used the Weather Prophecy Spell all those years ago," said Tung.
"You're probably right, my friend, you're probably right."
***
Deep in the bowels of the British Meteorological Office, the two most senior Met men were having a meeting.
"We need to discuss the accuracy of our forecasts."
"Lack of accuracy, more like."
"That's the point. The public makes fun of us because we can't even predict the weather an hour ahead never mind a week."
"And we need to stop using the word 'changeable' because everyone knows it just means we've no idea what's happening."
"I know, they say we'd do better if we just looked out the window."
"We should buy a big computer... like the one the Americans have."
"Have you any idea how much they cost?"
"Fair point, maybe it's best to stick to the way we've always done it."
With that, the more senior of the two unrolled an old scroll and prepared himself to produce the next forecast.
***
Watching television was a brilliant introduction to the modern world and it could all be achieved in the safe seclusion of their little beach hut. Tung adapted to the changes all around him better than Madrick had imagined. Maybe his crash course in spell-casting, and he had crashed many times, had prepared him well for accepting the miracles which were the twenty-first century.
In parallel with their TV watching, Madrick talked about and planned for their eventual excursion into the outside world. They'd need to move on at some stage, so it was probably just as well that he never discovered how to change channel or they might have stayed put, glued to the box forever.
He also forced Tung to create spells until they had one which would be useful once they left the safety of this sanctuary. There was the usual batch of useless stuff however the owner of this little wooden house would be excited by the remnants of some of the spells. For example, the ancient parchments would fascinate, the great silver sword would definitely be a talking point and the scattered gold coins would enrich him in every sense of the word. In fact, there'd be happy owners all over the place because Tung insisted on leaving coins in all the huts they'd raided. Bitter experience had taught him what being poor was like and these people were clearly not well off, given the tiny size of their dwellings.
Three days passed quickly, filled by watching the TV and systematically raiding the adjoining huts. They rested, learnt about modern life and fed themselves on a variety of weird and wonderful foods. They might have stayed even longer had it not been for the banging on the door and the voice shouting strange words.
"Barry. Barry. Barry," the voice cried.
It's funny how the same word said over and over again with no change in tone or volume sounds really bizarre.
"Barry. Barry. Barry," the voice cried, still in the same monotonous manner.
Tung and Madrick panicked. They grabbed their valuables, actually they were mainly someone else's valuables, and crouched behind the only two bits of furniture big enough to hide them. They made no noise as they listened to the pounding on the small wooden doors.
"Barry, are you in there?" asked the mystery voice. "I've had my hut broken into. It looks like a lot of the huts have been robbed. I can see the TV on, are you in there?"
The voice belonged to the owner from two huts down who'd come to collect some odds and sods from his holiday house. The lock was broken and inside, signs of a search and missing items confirmed his worst fears. Nothing of real value had been taken but it was exasperating to know that someone had invaded his private little retreat. Mind you, a bit more searching would have revealed the gold coins which Tung had left and that would undoubtedly have changed his mood for the better.
As he banged on the door, he noticed the lock there had been broken too. It hadn't been immediately obvious because Tung had managed to pry it open with minimal damage. The man, who was no hero, started to become anxious.
"I've called the police. They said they'd be here in a few minutes. Are you in there?"
He hadn't really called the police. He knew from experience that the police wouldn't come. There had been break-ins here before and it always turned out to be a tramp or homeless person trying to grab a night's sleep and a bit of warmth. There was no point in prosecuting them so the police felt there was no point in investigating.
Tung's survival instincts kicked in and a rather pathetic, spur-of-the-moment plan swung into action.
"The back window, let's jump out the back window," shouted Tung as he smashed the small window at the rear of the hut. This was merely a distraction tactic because it was far too small for either man to get through. There would be no spring-roll, dramatic escape through that little opening.
"I can't believe it, the idiot has fallen for it. He's away round the back."
In reality, the man was scared and he'd scarpered back to his own house. He wasn't about to tackle one tramp never mind more than one.
"Run," screamed Tung as he bolted out the front and ran for his life; here we go again, he thought as they headed for the trees.
The little forest with its creepy shadows offered the perfect hiding place. They scrabbled their way under some gorse bushes and peered out. Were they being followed? It didn't look like it and the annoying voice had disappeared.
"He's gone," said Madrick. "No one seems to be after us, which is a welcome novelty."
"Nah, you're wrong. Someone's always following us. Let's go."
The farther they got from the huts, the more relaxed they became.
"You know what? We're just having a quiet walk in the woods. How nice is that?"
"Keep walking, old man."
"Things are pretty good. We have clothes, food and some modern coins. We've also got the 'never empty' gold coin pouch you magicked up. And you've a useful spell in your head in case things take a turn for the worse. As I said, things are pretty good."
"Shut up. Every time you say that, something bad happens."
They kept walking, away from the huts and heading inland.
"It would be good to find a town soon so we can get lost among the townsfolk there."
Being amongst modern people would, of course, throw up all sorts of new challenges but the prospect excited him. He'd adapt just fine although he wasn't so sure about Tung. Bottom line, the lad would have to adapt, there was no other choice. A little skip worked its way into his step. He was in a strange and fascinating era so there'd be a world full of wonders to explore.
Let the new adventure begin.