The Song of the Quarkbeast: Last Dragonslayer: Book Two Read online

  ‘There is a passage in the Codex Magicalis,’ said Blix slowly, ‘which states that a wizard in trouble should always be afforded every help and assistance by every other wizard, irrespective of the trouble they may find themselves in.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘and there is another section in the Codex that states that any six wizards may call judgement and punishment upon any other. Tiger, go to the office. In the bottom left drawer you’ll find some lead finger-cuffs.’

  ‘Right,’ said Tiger and dashed off.

  Blix looked momentarily ill at ease.

  ‘Six wizards? You’ve only got four.’

  ‘Muttney and Corby joined us ten minutes ago.’

  ‘Nonsense. They are loyal only to me.’

  ‘No we’re not,’ came a voice from the door.

  ‘Traitors!’ he spat. ‘I’ll make you pay for this.’

  ‘You won’t get the chance, ‘I told him. ‘We could turn you over to the King, but he’d only want to pardon you or exile you or something dumb like that. No, I think we should deal with you here and now.’

  ‘What will it be?’ he said with a sneer. ‘A high tower with no staircase, marooned on an island in the Barents Sea populated only by carnivorous beasts?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘A subterranean cavern with only a misshapen goblin manservant for company?’

  ‘You should be so lucky, ‘I replied. ‘No, it would be more fitting if you were punished in a manner that would make you better understand the people you almost killed today.’

  ‘Wizards?’

  ‘Ordinary subjects of King Snodd.’

  ‘No,’ he said as he realised where this was heading, ‘for pity’s sake. Don’t humiliate me like that—’

  ‘Yes,’ I said in as grim a voice as I could muster, ‘ordinary incarceration in a common jail, with ordinary criminals. No lonely tower, no force-field, no seven-headed something – just stone walls, gruel, an hour of exercise a day and only the company of thieves and villains.’

  ‘Good call,’ smiled Moobin, ‘Like it.’

  Blix glared at me as Tiger arrived back with the finger-cuffs.

  ‘I should have killed you when I had the chance. And I had so many chances. But you know the reason I didn’t kill you? Do you know why I put you in the North Tower rather than simply killing you? Why I allowed you to stay alive?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ I replied. ‘Stupidity? Some sort of illogical Evil Dark Lord code?’

  ‘No,’ he replied. ‘Jennifer – I am your father!’

  There was a deathly hush as I stared at him open mouthed. I had always wanted to know who my parents were, but hadn’t pursued it because I was frightened of what I might . . . no, hang on. It was nonsense. For a start, he looked nothing like me, and I was nothing like him.

  ‘You’re a liar,’ I said, ‘you’re not my father.’

  ‘No, of course not,’ he said with a grin, ‘nothing as hideously self-righteous as you could ever spring from a Blix – but it was worth it just to see your stupid hopeful face.’

  ‘You’d pull that sort of joke,’ I said coldly, ‘on a foundling?’

  ‘I think you’re confusing me with someone pleasant, Jennifer.’

  ‘Actually, I don’t think so. Full? Cuff him. Moobin, if he even so much as twitches, newt him.’

  ‘With pleasure.’

  Full Price edged forward, fingers at the ready. It was a tense moment. Until we had the cuffs on him he was still dangerous. His eyes bored into mine with hatred, and as Full Price snapped on the first of the finger-cuffs, Blix shook his head and muttered:

  ‘Bloody foundlings!’

  There was a click, a hum and then a rising whine from somewhere deep within the building. We felt the floor flex, and the room suddenly grew lighter and three degrees warmer. The first person to realise what was going on was the most experienced wizard in the room – Blix. The Dibble Storage Coils, brimful with four GigaShandars of wizidrical energy, had just come back online. The passthought had been simpler than we had thought, and reflected Lady Mawgon’s feelings for Tiger and myself: Bloody foundlings – a feeling shared with Blix with the same deep sense of disdain. Unwittingly, Lady Mawgon had just handed a vast amount of power to the one person who shouldn’t have it.

  Conrad Blix, formerly ‘the Amazing’, was now . . . All Powerful.

  * * *

  1 This was Roger Limpet. The ear drifted down on to the chin, if you’re really interested. It took two weeks to migrate back. It would have taken less, but he kept on picking at it.

  2 Not quite true. Patrick’s dropping of thirty-two cars from three feet when the Moose suffered his fatal blowout caused M29,000 worth of damage. It was fortuitous that Jennifer had asked Tenbury for an amnesty for that day’s spelling. The repair bills were eventually paid out of the Minister of Infernal Affairs’ rubber-stamp budget, much to the Useless Brother’s annoyance.

  The All Powerful Blix

  * * *

  Several things seemed to happen at once. The Prices and Moobin all let fly at the same time, and the room was suddenly filled with spells and counter-spells, weaves, dodges, burns and reversals. So much so that the dust on the floor buzzed with static and the glass in the roof began to cloud. Those of us unversed in the Mystical Arts dived for cover, and when the noise had died down after probably less than half a minute, I looked cautiously from where I had hidden behind the central fountain. Tiger was with me, and Perkins. The Quarkbeast was next to us, but frozen in mid-leap, his mouth gaping wide and now showing us a perfect array of teeth delicately rendered in the finest granite.

  ‘Wow,’ I heard Blix say, ‘you can do some serious mischief with four Gigs of crackle at your elbow! Jennifer? Are you there?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ I said, not revealing myself.

  I looked to right and left and noticed that the room had six more figures delicately realised in stone – both of the Prices, Moobin, Corby and even Tchango Muttney, who had been turned to granite just as he reached the door.

  ‘You make a run for it,’ said Perkins, ‘I’ll cover you.’

  ‘And then what?’

  He thought for a moment.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘We so almost had him,’ I murmured. ‘Shit.’

  ‘Language,’ said Tiger.

  ‘Sorry.’

  I was still trying to think of a plan when I heard a young woman’s voice.

  ‘All Powerful Blix,’ it went, ‘I have always loved and admired you. Take me with you.’

  It was Samantha. She had reaugmented herself back to perfect gorgeousness and was approaching Blix, who had improved himself, too. His hair was no longer streaked with grey, he was ten years younger, four inches taller and physically stronger. He was temporarily as powerful as any sorcerer that had ever been. Of course, he’d be back to normal once he’d used up the power in the Dibble, but a clever mage can do a lot with four GigaShandars. A castle, a fast car, a wardrobe full of mouse-fur suits – you name it.

  He smiled and put out his hand to take hers.

  ‘Samantha,’ he said, ‘are you ready and willing to obey my every command?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I shall,’ she replied eagerly, ‘for every evil genius there must be a ludicrously beautiful woman apparently doing very little at his side.’

  ‘I see that you and I speak the same language.’

  ‘I hope so,’ she said demurely, ‘but it’s been three years, and you could have made a bit more effort.’

  He raised an eyebrow.

  ‘More effort? To do what?’

  ‘To learn my name. You don’t pronounce the first “A”!’

  She attempted to grab his fingers. It was a brave attempt on her behalf, but futile. In an instant there was nothing but a small and very pretty guinea pig scurrying around the floor making loud weep-weep-weep noises.

  ‘What has the world come to,’ said Blix to the room in general, ‘when an evil genius can’t even trust pretty girls that throw themselv
es at him?’

  We ducked back down behind the fountain.

  ‘That was brave,’ said Perkins.

  ‘Jennifer,’ came Blix’s voice again, ‘it’s time to show yourself. It’s been fun all this back and forth, but I’ve got better things to do than monkey around with amateurs.’

  ‘I’ll be out in a minute,’ I shouted, ‘I just have to do something.’

  ‘What’s he going to do with us?’ whispered Perkins.

  ‘With that amount of power, almost anything he wants. We’ve not a hope of vanquishing him now.’

  Tiger snapped his fingers.

  ‘Unless we can get someone to marry him. Vision BO55, remember? His wife would be greater and more powerful than he, and ultimately be the agent of his downfall.’

  ‘Brilliant,’ said Perkins. ‘What’s your plan? Marry him to a dangerously insane sorcerer with ten Gig of crackle on tap?’

  ‘It was just a thought.’

  ‘What if he were already married?’ came a voice. ‘What if an impressionable young girl had married him in secret against her better judgement and against the advice of her other, better suitor?’

  We turned towards the person speaking. It was Once Magnificent Boo. She had taken refuge behind an upturned table. It took a moment to figure it out. Zambini, Blix and Boo had once been close, then fell out. If Boo had chosen Blix over Zambini, it would explain why.

  ‘You’re Mrs Blix?’ I asked.

  ‘When was this vision?’ she asked.

  I told her it was just after she had won the seven golds at the Olympics. I saw her jaw tighten and she pulled her gloves off, revealing hands that were missing the index fingers. She looked at them, then at us. Then she stood up.

  ‘Hello, Conrad,’ she said, and we peered cautiously over the parapet of the fountain to see what would happen next.

  ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘Boo. You can leave. My argument is not with you.’

  ‘But mine,’ she replied, ‘is with you. I just heard that you sought a vision from Sister Yolanda and received one: that your wife – me – would be more powerful than you, and ultimately vanquish you?’

  He swallowed nervously.

  ‘I was married. I was young. I was foolish. I was just checking.’

  ‘You wanted to check I wouldn’t be greater than you?’

  ‘No,’ he said in a quiet voice, ‘I wanted to check we’d be happy.’

  Perkins, Tiger and I exchanged glances. Only a fool or someone in love asks a precog how things will turn out.

  ‘And you couldn’t be happy if I was better than you?’

  Blix looked sheepish for a moment.

  ‘You had me kidnapped,’ she said slowly as she figured it out. ‘You did this to me.’

  She showed him her hands and I saw him blanch for a moment as even he realised just how hideously cruel he had been.

  ‘I trusted you,’ she said, her voice only rising slightly as she kept herself under control, ‘and I could have been someone. We all could have been someone. You, me and Zambini – a force for good in this world. You didn’t just destroy me, you sabotaged a lifetime of research, discovery and the advance of magic as a noble art. Do you have any idea what you have done?’

  We looked at Blix, waiting for an answer. There wasn’t one, of course.

  ‘Yeah, well,’ he said with a shrug, ‘we’ve already established I’m unpleasant, untrustworthy and . . . and . . . and—’

  ‘Devious?’ I suggested.

  ‘Devious. Right. So what are you going to do about it? You’ve got nothing. Two wizards in a room and only one of them has fingers. Not much of a stand-off, is it?’

  ‘I’ll find my fingers,’ she said in a low voice, ‘and they’ll still be as powerful today as when you had them removed in that lay-by. And when I get them, you’ll be sorry.’

  ‘You won’t find them,’ he said with a sneer, ‘I made them unfindable. No one can find them. Not even I could find them.’

  And that was when I stood up, in full view of Blix, who could have turned me into stone in a second. This was the moment to act.

  ‘Lady Mawgon could find them,’ I said in a voice cracked with fear, ‘with the Wizard Moobin and Tiger with Perkins in reserve.’

  ‘Impossible!’ he said.

  ‘We were asked by the Mighty Shandar’s agent to find a ring that was missing. A ring that didn’t want to be found. But that wasn’t what they were really after.’

  I paused as this sank in.

  ‘I only looked as far as the ring – I never checked the small terracotta pot that it came in.’

  I brought the same small pot out of my bag, where it had lain since the Moose had over-surged, and upended it into my hand. The ring fell out first. A large ring, the sort that might fit on an index finger. Then dried dirt, a few scraps of material and finally – several human finger bones. Moobin was right; a ring has no power. The energy the Moose had extracted had come from Boo’s missing fingers. Not just her own natural energy, but a power augmented by three decades of loss, hatred, bitterness – and betrayal.

  I think Blix knew the game was up, and I like to think there was just a small vestige of love in his dark heart that made him pause, lose the speed advantage, and ultimately the battle.

  Maybe deep down he knew he had to atone.

  Boo grasped my elbow tightly to reconnect once again with her lost fingers, and I felt a pulse of energy shoot down my forearm. My fist shut on the finger-bones so tightly my nails punctured my palm, but I didn’t feel the pain. In an instant Boo and Blix were locked in spell, and a wall of blue light welled up between them as they tried to break down each other’s defences. They struggled like this for some moments, grappling with one another. The heat and light increased, a heavy wind blew up, and a moment later there was a blinding concussion.

  Aftermath

  * * *

  I may have been unconscious for a few moments; I don’t know. But when I came to, Boo was brushing herself down and replacing her lost fingers in the small terracotta pot. Blix had come off worse in the encounter and was now himself rendered perfectly in black granite, his last agonising yell of pain preserved for ever. Sister Yolanda’s prophecy had come true. They always do.

  ‘Well,’ said the the Magnificent Boo in a chirpy voice, ‘I think that turned out quite favourably, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘yes, I think it did.’

  ‘Why do you think the Mighty Shandar wanted my fingers?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘To push destiny? For more power? Maybe Shandar’s getting rid of those who might challenge him when he returns. Perhaps we’ve yet to find out. Magic works in mysterious ways.’

  ‘It certainly does.’

  She turned to pick up her gloves and made to walk away.

  ‘Will you be coming back?’ I asked.

  ‘I have Quarkbeasts to feed. And they like their walkies.’

  She gave me a smile.

  ‘Keep well, Miss Jennifer Strange.’

  ‘I will,’ I said, ‘thank you.’

  She nodded, and walked away.

  The formerly stone Kazam staff were stretching themselves after their brief incarceration. A thousand years or eight seconds feels the same when in stone, so I think they were very glad to see Tiger and myself unchanged – and Blix in granite, of course.

  ‘That was very, very brave, Samantha,’ I heard Moobin say once Tiger had explained what had happened.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘but can I just point out that you don’t pronounce the “A” . . .’

  ‘You!’ said Lady Mawgon, whose capacity to harangue did not seem to have been diminished by her imprisonment. ‘I am hungry. Instruct Cook to make me a cheese sandwich and a cup of tea. I shall be in my room. Don’t forget to knock, and if the sandwich is unsatisfactory I will send it back.’

  And she glided off out of the Palm Court.

  ‘Back to normal, eh?’ said Tiger.

  ‘Back to normal.’

  Th
ere was a lot of explaining to do to everyone, and word soon came through from Lord Tenbury that the general magic amnesty had been signed by the King. The day’s spelling would not require any paperwork at all, for which I was very glad. Everyone in the building of any power, whether licensed or not, took advantage of this and contributed to finishing the bridge – it was completed in twenty-three minutes and was open for traffic by teatime. Now that we knew the passthought, we could use the stored crackle to carry out much-needed repairs to Zambini Towers. By the time the Dibble Storage Coils were once again empty, the old building shone like a new pin under a fresh coat of paint, revarnished wood and polished brass. The Palm Court was once more full of lush tropical vegetation and the central fountain, dry for over six decades, gurgled into life. We even restocked the wine cellar and reinstated the elevators, but kept the service lift empty and free-fall-enabled, just for fun.

  Over an extended afternoon tea I had to repeat the story of the trip up to Trollvania about six times as news of Zambini was sparse, and everyone wanted to know how he was.

  At five I was in a press conference, and after that I fielded a few work calls from new clients who had seen what we had done that afternoon. If things got busier, we were going to need to license more sorcerers.

  ‘A busy day,’ said Perkins, who dropped into the office when things were finally beginning to calm down.

  I smiled.

  ‘Very busy.’

  ‘Too busy for that date at the Dungeon Rooms?’

  I didn’t hesitate.

  ‘Not at all – I’d like that very much.’

  ‘Lobby at seven, then – and without Tiger.’

  ‘No Tiger,’ I said, ‘promise.’

  So I went and had a bath and changed into my second-best dress – I didn’t wear my very best as I wanted to keep that in reserve.

  I wasn’t waiting in the lobby for long. Perkins arrived dressed in a suit, and dotted around the lobby were most of the residents, all eager to see us walk out together.