The air was thick with the shock and surprise of the pens and pencils. Arnie looked around, scared. How had they known they were coming? The paintbrush who had spoken still wore that evil grin on his face.

"How can it be that you were expecting us?" The pencil leader broke the silence, his voice commanding and sure. There wasn't a shred of fear or apprehension in how he carried himself or spoke. The paintbrush replied, looking equally sure and unworried.

"Old one, hush your questions now. We won't be answering anything. You'll be moving straight along into the village now and no more talking." The pencil leader seemed to think it would be sensible to comply.

The gathered paintbrushes started to move towards them. Arnie felt the pens and pencils tense and he thought they might burst into fighting at any moment. He opened his mouth to try and hold them off. He knew that fighting at this moment, as they were, would be foolish. Before he got a word out, however, the pen leader opened his mouth and called out to the group.

"Do not fight brothers. Do not fear. We shall go where we are guided for now."

Arnie felt them relax. They were ready to fight he knew, but it seemed they hadn't really wanted to. They started shuffling towards the open gate, being herded on all sides by the paintbrushes like cattle taken to slaughter. They moved in silence until they arrived at the gate of the paintbrush village. That is when Arnie realised what he was looking at. The village wall, and in fact the whole village was made of stretched canvas. Painted canvas. Some of the paintings were splashes of various coloured paints, others were landscapes or realist shapes. There were portraits of paintbrushes, of pens and pencils and there were monochrome paintings of nothing in particular. In any other situation he would have admired the beauty.

When they were all inside the gate it was closed behind them. Arnie saw it being locked and chuckled to himself. Those gates and these walls wouldn't keep him in if he wanted to leave. He knew he could step over the walls due to his height and thought he could prbably knock them down pretty easily considering it was canvas. Now that he was in the village and taking some time to look around himself Arnie estimated that the village was probably twice the size of the lead pencil village. He wondered if there were other paintbrushes dwellings and made a mental note to ask when the opportunity presented itself.

They were herded further into the village, straight through to a clearing in the center. They were gathered like sheep into the clearing and surrounded on all sides by ready, determined looking paintbrushes. The apparent leader of this group of brushes - the one who had spoken outside - stepped forward and spoke to them again.

"You will wait here for further instructions. You can sit down and be comfortable. Do not make trouble, as it is plain for you to see, we outnumber you by many."

"What are we waiting for?" To Arnie's surprise it was Sophos who spoke. His voice also carried a note of authority despite the situation.

The paintbrush looked him over, appearing to weigh him up. After a short pause he answered.

"You are waiting to be told what will happen next. I must consult my leader now that we have you safely captured. Once he commands what is to be it shall be."

"It shall be!" Arnie jumped as all the paintbrushes chanted it in unison.

They sounded like the pens and pencils Arnie thought.

The pens and pencils mostly sat down upon the ground and tried to get comfortable. The lead paintbrush detached himself from the gathered guards and sped off down a path heading deeper into the village.

The pens and pencils gradually began chatting as they grew more comfortable. They were careful about what they said to each other, aware of the surrounding guards. It didn't seem to be long before the head paintbrush reappeared.

"Leader of the pens, leader of the pencils and you two humans." He said, pointing to each of them in turn. "Will have an audience with our leader." He paused and looked at each of them in turn before continuing. "Be aware that you will be guarded. Speak when spoken to and obey all commands that you are given." He sounded serious.

They extracted themselves from the rest of their group and followed the lead paintbrush. A large group of paintbrush guards also detached and followed along, surrounding them all.

"What is your name?" the pen leader asked the paintbrush that was leading the way. He seemed to prickle slightly before answering. "It is Custodella" his voice was cold and guarded.

"Ceannaire" is my name. The pen leader replied, nothing but warmth in his voice. Arnie was surprised, he had never heard his name before. He realised that he didn't know the pencil leader's name either. As though in reply to this thought, the pencil leader spoke. "And I am Neart" he sounded equally warm and friendly.

Custodella looked taken aback by their friendliness, his cold demeanor breaking slightly. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times as though he was going to reply, but he didn't say anything.

They arrived at a house. It was larger than the rest, but equally paint splattered. It stood tall enough for Arnie and Isabelle to enter at a crouch, but they wouldn't be able to stand up inside. He hoped they wouldn't be in there for long.

"Lie flat for a search." Custodella said.

They all lay down, Arnie and Isabelle looking huge compared to the rest. It struck Arnie how out of place they were in this land.

The paintbrush guards searched them quickly and Custodella bade them stand again. They stood. Arnie brushed himself down automatically before realising it was unneccessary.

"Now we enter."

The pen and pencil leader followed him through the door and Arnie and Isabelle came next, crouching down to pass through the door. Arnie was surprised to find that the floor slanted downwards. It was very dark. They had entered a hallway, there were lanterns on the wall giving on a faint, dim light. The hallway was wide enough for two humans to walk comfortably side by side. The low ceiling was getting further away as they moved down the path. Arnie realised that they were heading underground. Isabelle was walking by his side.

"This is bigger than it looks." she whispered.

Arnie nodded but said nothing. He heard Custodella's voice.

"We will be walking a short distance until we reach the main chamber of the leader. Stay quiet."

And they walked on. The soft patter of their footsteps was the only sound. Arnie couldn't tell what the place looked like due to the dark. There was just enough light to give a general impression of where the walls and ceiling were. As they went down and the ceiling got higher they didn't need to crouch any more. They carried on.

Up ahead there was a turn in the path. As they went around they were greeted by a brighter light. There was a dead-end straight ahead and it was surrounded by torches, arranged in a perfect circle. The wall that stopped the path was white like chalk. What appeared to be a large, round door handle of some dark metal hung from the center of the circle. This must be the door to the chamber.

They continued towards it. When they got to about half way, however, Custodella held up his hand. They stopped suddenly. Arnie looked around for some sign as to why they had stopped here but saw nothing. The dark walls, the torches, the floor was all as it had been. The only thing different was the round, white dead-end up ahead. Custodella raised his hand and signalled left before facing left, stepping forward and disappearing into the wall. Arnie saw the pen and pencil leader do the same and felt the movement of the guards behind him. He couldn't see where they had gone. He stepped forward to the point they had vanished and faced left. That is when he saw it. From any other angle it was simply a stretch of dark wall. But when standing directly in front of it, between two of the dim torches was a break in the wall – a doorway.

Arnie thought that if you didn't know it was there you wouldn't see it. He stepped forward into the darkness. He stepped into a narrow corridor that was completely black. He reached a hand out on each side and found a wall. He began moving forward slowly. He heard Isabelle stepping in behind him and though she too would be using the wall to guide herself. He didn't want to speak so he continued moving forward wondering where the darkness might end. It pressed in from all sides.

His hand dragged lightly along the wall and he continued forward. Fortunately the floor was even and smooth. The descent had also stopped and they were on flat ground. Arnie heard a noise up ahead, a faint scurrying noise. It sounded like the tiny tapping of many feet. It was very faint but sort of echoed. He slowed down and Isabelle walked into him. She let out an exclamation of shock. "What is it?" she hissed quietly.

"Sorry, I thought I heard something" he answered and picked up the pace again.

Then he heard it again and before he knew it the scurrying noise had reached him. It was coming from the left wall, but he couldn't see anything in the dark despite looking through squinted eyes. He let out a howl of fear when he felt whatever was making that noise contact his left hand. Legs scurried onto his hand. He couldn't see it but he could feel it. It felt like multiple pipe cleaners tapping onto the back of his hand. It was light. He jerked his hand back off the wall instinctively and whatever it was came with it, flying at him. He felt a bristly, hairy thing collide with his cheek before disappearing on to the ground. He stumbled back without thinking, fear overtaking him and he collided with Isabelle who let out a sort of shriek as he hit her. He tripped on his own feet and felt them both falling backwards. It felt like slow motion as they hit the ground.

"What the hell is going on?" Isabelle said. She said it through gritted teeth.

Before he could answer, another voice piped in. "You were told to remain quiet. What is the meaning of this disturbance?" It was one of the guards that had been following.

Arnie felt foolish. "Well, er...em...something crawled on my hand. Startled me..." he stammered.

He thought there was amusement in the voice of the guard. "Those are simply the watchers."

"What are they?" Arnie asked. He was glad it was dark as he felt his face flush.

"The Watchers." said the guard simply. "Let's move on." Arnie thought better than to ask further. He clambered up and helped Isabelle get up too. "Do you want me to go ahead?" she asked.

"No, it's ok. Sorry about that." he said, still feeling flustered.

He put one finger on the wall only, listening carefully for any more scurrying sounds. He wondered how far ahead the others were.

They walked for only a little while longer before Arnie saw a very faint glow up ahead. As they drew nearer he noticed that there was a sharp turn in the path. He slowed down to approach it and then turned the corner. Up ahead only a few feet was the end of the path. It opened into a wide chamber. Standing at the end of the path was Custoldella and the pen and pencil leader.

"What kept you?" Custodella asked. It sounded like a rhetorical question to Arnie so he didn't respond.

They filed out of the passage and into the chamber. It was perfectly circular. The wall was covered in the same style of lanterns that cast an eerie glow over the room. All around the walls stood paintbrush soldiers, ready and alert looking. Their shadows moving in a graceful dance in the time with flickering lantern light.

Arnie looked up but the light did not reach the ceiling. He thought he could make out movement though and he felt butterflies in his stomach. He was feeling a bit apprehensive with visions of many legged "watchers" going through his mind.

Directly ahead towards the back of the room was a chair. It was a large, ornate chair compared with the sizes of the paintbrushes. He couldn't make out the colour of it in this light, but he could see that it's arms and back were adorned with intricate shapes and patterns. It looked like the throne of a dark wizard. In it sat one of the biggest paintbrushes Arnie had seen. His bristle hair a full five inches thick. His body fatter than the rest. He was a decorator's paintbrush rather than an artists paintbrush.

Arnie peered through the dark. There were two long, thin, dark shapes on either side of the Paintbrushes head. As they shuffled closer Arnie looked at the the face of the paintbrush leader. From what he could make out it looked tired and haggard. The body itself seemed somewhat slumped, like an unused puppet might look. It didn't speak.

Arnie's gaze shifted to the two protruding shapes on either side of the leader's head. He almost gasped when he saw the tiny hairs. He did gasp out loud however, when saw through the shaped holes in the throne, a number of dark, glistening circles. They looked like black mirrors and Arnie realised with shock they were eyes. Numerous eyes staring through the throne right at him. The eyes were the colour of the midnight sky and they had a penetrating stare that made Arnie feel uneasy. The elongated, thin shapes on either side of the leader's head moved slightly, and as they did the leader spoke. His voice was monotonous and distant and his mouth seemed to strain against the motions it was making as though he was battling against his own words.

"Welcome to my home."

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