Accidental Sorcerer (24 page)

Melissande looked up from tidying the mess, frowning. 'Are you here to use my crystal ball or give me interior decorating advice?'

'I can do both,' said Reg, scratching her head. 'It's no skin off my beak, ducky' She peered around the room suspiciously.'Where's that Boris?'

'Out. Just because I'm a prisoner there's no need for him to be one as well.'

Reg sniffed.'Typical. Bloody cats. Wouldn't know the meaning of loyalty if it bit them on the bum.'

'So. Gerald,' said Melissande, pointedly ignoring Reg as she sorted through the clutter. 'Why do you want to get hold of Markham so urgently?'

Taking advantage of her distraction he shoved the textbook into the general disorder and took a step back. 'Oh. Ah. I need a second opinion.'

'If it's to do with your bird I'll give you - ha!' With a pleased smile Melissande unearthed the crystal ball from beneath a tumbled pile of ledgers.

'No. It's nothing to do with Reg.'

'What, then?' she said, polishing the crystal ball with her sleeve. 'Has something
else
happened I should know about?'

What she doesn't know can't hurt her.
'Ah - no.'

She looked at him, eyes narrowing behind those unflattering glasses.'Gerald?'

'Why don't you ask him how he's feeling?' said Reg, all spurious sweetness. 'Mere hours ago he was writhing on a bed of pain ... or had you forgotten?'

Melissandes cheeks coloured. 'Sorry. Of course. How are you feeling, Gerald?'

'I'm fine. Starving to death, but fine.'

'Now ask him what
really
happened yesterday' Reg added.

Exasperated, Melissande planted her hands on her hips.'What
are
you talking about?'

'In a nutshell? Your pretty brother lied, ducky'

Melissande laughed, and started to make more space for the crystal ball. 'Don't be ridiculous! Lional's the king. He doesn't need to lie. If you don't mind I've got a lot of work to do, so call Markham and -'

'Oh,' said Gerald.'Ah - I can explain that.'

She'd noticed the pilfered textbook. 'I left this in my office,' she said, picking it up. 'At the bottom of a locked drawer.'

Damn, damn,
damn.
'Your Highness -'

'Have you been
spying
on me, Professor?' she demanded, her fingers bloodless as they gripped the book. 'Did
Lional
put you up to this?'

He turned on Reg before she could speak. 'Don't. All right? Just
don't.
Let
me
handle this, all right?'

Reg closed her beak, fluffed up all her feathers, and retreated into sulky silence.

Hesitantly he took a step closer to the furious princess. 'Melissande, listen. Please. It's not what you think.'

Her chin came up. 'It isn't? So you
didn't
break into my office and go through my desk? My book just magically appeared out of thin air and dropped into your lap?'

'No, of course it didn't,' he said. 'You're right. I broke into your office and I went through your desk. But trust me, not for Lional!'

' Trust
you?' She tossed the book back onto the table then wrestled her temper under control. 'AH right. Why, then? And I give you fair warning, if I don't like the answer you
will
be sorry'

I'm already sorry.
'It's like Reg said,' he told her, carefully. 'I need to get through to Monk and my crystal ball's not working.'

'So you thought you'd steal mine?'

'Borrow'

'It's only borrowing when you ask first!'

He risked a smile. 'Believe me, I wish I had. I didn't want to disturb you. Sorry'

She just looked at him, stony-faced. Clearly the smile wasn't working. 'Well, there's the ball. Use it and go.'

He nodded at the discarded textbook. 'I didn't realise there was a Witches' Academy here in New Ottosland.'

'There's not,' she said stiffly, arms folded. 'If you
must
know I'm doing a correspondence course with Madam Ravatinka's Exclusive School of Witchery. It was advertised in a back-issue of
The Ottosland Express.
And don't you
dare
sneer. You're a correspondence-course graduate yourself!'

i wasn't going to sneer,' he protested. 'Are you any good?'

She unfolded her arms. 'I'm not
bad.
I've passed all my First Year tests. But so far it's just been theory. We don't start the practical stuff till next year.' Calmer now, she flicked him a sharp look. 'Gerald, did Lional really lie about your accident?'

The nearest chair was piled high with books. He shifted them to the floor, buying some time, and sat down.

'Go on,' said Reg. 'Tell her.'

He sighed. 'Well ...'

'For the love of Saint Snodgrass
stop
trying to
protect
me!' cried Melissande. 'I'm not a little girl, I'm -'

'A princess and a prime minister. I know,' he said. 'Melissande, I'm not trying to protect you.'

Her eyes were scornful.'No?'

'All right. Perhaps I am. A bit. But I'm protecting me, too.'

'From what?'

'The consequences of unfounded accusations. Reg has a bee in her bonnet but I don't hear it buzzing. At least not very loudly. There's suspicion but no proof to back it up and until there
is
proof...' Troubled, he considered her. 'But leaving yesterday aside, it's likely things are going to heat up around here anyway. With the Kallarapi. 1 don't suppose you'd consider leaving? I could get you to the portal undetected. You could go and stay with Monk till the dust settles.'

Melissande stared.'Leave? Run away, you mean.'

Reg clattered her beak. 'Run away, make a strategic withdrawal, charge in a backwards direction, make tracks, bugger off - does it matter what you call it? Just answer the question, ducky. If he gave you the chance would you scarper?'

'And if I did?' said Melissande, still staring. 'Who'd take over as prime minister? Rupert? He wouldn't last five seconds against Lional.'

True, true, lamentably true. 'You could take him with you.'

'Well that'd be nice and inconspicuous, wouldn't it?' said Melissande, rolling her eyes. 'Me, Rupert and five thousand butterflies all sneaking out of the country together. Because you'd never get him to leave them behind, you know. And I wouldn't leave him. If I was going. Which I'm not. Shocking as this may sound, Gerald, you aren't the only one around here who's sworn an oath and takes it seriously. Or do you think only wizards have a sense of honour?'

Stung, he stood up.'Of course not.'

'So I guess that answers your question, doesn't

it?'

'Yes. I guess it does.'

Reg cackled.'I'll give you this, ducky. You may have the deportment of a demented mongoose but you've got guts to go with it.'

Melissande looked at her.'Thank you. I think.'

'More guts than sense is what you've got,' Gerald retorted.'If you'd give me some privacy I'll rustle up Monk, then Reg and I'll be on our way'

She shook her head. 'Whatever you have to say you can say in front of me. Unless it has nothing to do with New Ottosland.' Her eyebrows lifted; for a moment she looked like just Lional.'Has it?'

For a heartbeat he considered lying. For her own good, naturally. Then he discarded the idea.

Not only would she probably not believe him, if she did then found out later he'd deceived her, well ... 'Fine. On one condition: whatever gets said in this room
stays
in this room.'

She sighed. 'Naturally. Shocking as it sounds I do have a passing familiarity with discretion, Gerald.'

Also with sarcasm. He nodded. 'Right.'

But when he tried to put the call through, nothing happened.

'Don't look at me,' said Melissande. 'It was working last night when I spoke to the Babishkian Minister for Trade about their last shipment of
grooslok.
Try it again.'

Stomach churning, he tried it again. Still nothing.

'Maybe it's you,' said Melissande. 'You're concussed, that could -'

'No,' said Reg, frowning. 'It's not Gerald. The etheretic transductors have gone hinky'

'The what?' said Melissande blankly.

Reg looked down her beak. 'The etheretic transductors, ducky. The squillions of teeny tiny thaumaletic particles bumping around in the atmosphere acting as crystal ball carrier waves.' She sniffed. 'I hope you didn't pay a lot for this Madam Rinky Tinky's correspondence course. Because if she doesn't know enough to teach you about etheretic transductors, madam, I'd say you've done your dosh.'

'It's none of your business how much I paid,' said Melissande, colouring. 'And anyway, all that technical stuff isn't covered until next year.'

'Well, if this Madam Rinky Tinky doesn't know-enough to teach her First Year students about etheretic transductors, the dangers associated with, I'd be very surprised to learn she had any Second Year students on her books at all!' retorted Reg. 'In fact it's a wonder to me you haven't blown yourself to smithereens already!'

'I'll have you know,' Melissande said hotly, hands on hips, 'that Madam
Ravatinka
is a highly qualified expert and -'

She was interrupted by the sound of her apartment doors opening and an autocratic voice crying, 'Melissande? Where are you? Come out here immediately, I wish to talk to you!'

'LionalV
whispered Melissande.
'Damn.
If he finds you two here we're cooked. I'll get rid of him. Whatever you do don't make a sound or tonight the three of us will be sleeping in chains!'

He frowned. 'Don't be ridiculous. Rupert is an idiot.'

'I rest my case.'

'Why won't the wretched thing work?' he demanded, eyeing her with cold, impatient displeasure. 'Did you drop it?'

Her fingers clenched inside her pockets but she managed, just, to keep her temper. Losing it now would be fatal; Lional was clearly in a precarious mood.

'No, Lional, I didn't drop it,' she said, flawlessly reasonable. 'The etheretic transductors are on the blink. Tell Gerald - Professor Dunwoody - to fix them, would you? It's about time he started earning his keep.'

'Thank you, Melissande! / will be the judge of who's earning their keep in my kingdom and who isn't! And speaking of which -'

'Of what?' she said, after a moment.'Lional?'

Lional stared into thin air, his expression suspended. Then he stirred. 'Did you just say ...
etheretic transductors?

Taken aback, she blinked at him. 'Yes. Why - don't tell me you've heard of them?'

'As a matter of fact, I have. And they're on the blink, you say?'

'They are. Yes.'

'Ah. Then it would appear we've been struck by polarised lightning,' said Lional. 'In which case there's nothing our good Gerald can do. Wizards can't reverse the effects of a polarised lightning strike. Nobody can. All one can do is wait for the etheretic conditions to return to normal. So, Melissande. About this wedding ...'

'Forget about the bloody wedding, Lional!' she snapped before she could stop herself. At the look on his face she whipped her hands from her pockets and held them out placatingly. 'At least for the moment, and tell me what you're talking about. I've never heard of polarised lightning. How do you know what it is, or what it does to etheretic conductivity?'

He let out a short sharp sigh. 'Polarised lightning is an extremely rare, practically unheard of thaumaturgical phenomenon, a bizarre concatenation of colliding atoms, random particles and misfiring tetrothaumical emissions.'

Well, Madame Rink-
Ravatinka
had definitely
never
mentioned
that.
'It is?'

Lional glared. 'Didn't I just say so?'

'Er - according to who?'

'Former Court Wizard Grumbaugh, actually. The city was struck by it during his brief and unlamented tenure. Grumbaugh was most put out. He couldn't use his crystal ball for nearly three days. Yes, and it knocked out the portal too. Most inconvenient.'

Lional could be the most plausible liar when he felt like it. But why would he lie about something like this?
Sorry Gerald, it looks like you're clean out of luck.
'And why is this the first I'm hearing of it?' she asked, feeling slighted.

'You were away at the time, officiating at some dreary little village ceremony somewhere unimportant,' said Lional, waving away her annoyance. 'By the time you got back the disruption was over. It must've slipped my mind.'

'But I was working practically all last night and I didn't see any lightning.'

'You wouldn't,' he said promptly. 'It's black, apparently. More or less invisible even during the day. But etheretic disruptions are a classic indicator of polarised lightning activity. Grumbaugh left behind some kind of monitoring apparatus, he said we were uniquely prone to the problem because of the desert and other technical claptrap I didn't listen to.' Lional's expression subtly shifted and his eyes took on a militant glitter. 'If you don't believe me I can fetch it and -'

'No, no,' she said swiftly. 'Of course I believe you, Lional. It's just a nuisance. I've got so much
work
to do.'

'Leave it to your staff,' he said coldly. 'That's what they're for. You, Melissande, have a wedding to plan.'

Bloody hell, the wedding
again?
When would her impossible brother
listen?
'Lional,
please
reconsider! How can you do this? Hand me over to a man you despise as though I were a - a -
lamp
you didn't care for? Don't
my
feelings come into this? Doesn't it
matter
to you that I don't want to marry Zazoor?'

'Putting it bluntly, no,' he said. 'All that matters is my kingdom. And I'll use any coin I have to secure its future, Melissande; even my own flesh and blood.'

She couldn't swallow a choked protest fast enough. 'How can you be so cruel? I thought you loved me!'

'I do!' he cried. 'Do you think this is
easy
for me? That I relish the thought of Zazoor's hands upon
my sister?
I don't. The idea revolts me. But it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for the good of this nation.'

'How very ...
noble
... of you,' she said unsteadily, when she could trust herself not to scream. 'But Lional, can't you see that marrying me to Zazoor will do far more harm than good? His people will never accept me. I'm an outsider, probably an infidel. And as for this ridiculous charade involving the Kallarapi gods - oh, Lional, change your mind! New Ottosland
needs
me, surely you can see that!'
You need me, you fool, if you're not to destroy yourself and the kingdom with this madnessl
But she didn't dare say that aloud. Instead she just stared at him, willing him to hear her for once. This once.

He shook his head. 'You're needed in Kallarap more.'

'Well, I'm sorry, Lional, I don't agree.' On a deep breath, she folded her arms. 'And I can't - I
won't
- do it. I won't marry Sultan Zazoor.'

In silence he looked at her. Not raging. Merely ... unreachable. 'Then I'm sorry too, Melly' he said at last. 'Because until you change your mind the most you'll be seeing of New Ottosland is the view from your windows. And while you contemplate that view I suggest you contemplate this as well. There are cages much less gilded than this one, far beneath our feet. Don't be fool enough to think I won't use them, and far more swiftly than you'd like. In the meantime ... consider yourself my ex-Prime Minister.'

The foyer doors slammed hard behind him. She stared at them, feeling her insides tremble. Fighting to hold back the tears.
What's happened to you, Lional? You never used to be like this ...

Behind her Gerald's voice said, 'Don't lose hope, Melissande.This isn't over, not by a long shot.'

She nodded, unwilling to turn or trust her voice.

'You listen to Gerald, ducky,' the bird said bracingly. 'You'll be a card-carrying member of the Spinsters' Club a good while yet - especially if you don't engage a decent interior decorator.'

When she was sure she could speak like a princess she said, 'You heard what he said? About the - the polarised lightning?'

'Yes,' said Gerald.

Now she turned.'And?'

He and the bird exchanged swift looks. 'And I suppose we'll just have to wait for the etheretic disturbance to subside. Sorry to have bothered you, I know you're busy'

His quite plain face was impossible to read. 'So ... you have heard of it, then. This polarised lightning.'

'I think I recall a passing reference in a couple of trade journals. It's ... rare.'

'Ah.' She nodded.'I see. Well, you two should go now, in case Lional sends for you.'

Another shared look with the bird. 'Yes. But what about you? Will you be all right? We heard what he said about cages, too.'

If he started getting all solicitous she was going to cry, and she'd done enough crying lately to last the rest of her life.'Don't worry about me,' she said briskly. 'I'll be fine. Just ... fix this, Gerald. Please. Fix it.'

Gerald didn't reply, but touched her arm in passing. With Reg hunched on his shoulder he pressed his ear to the foyer door, nodded to himself, whispered something under his breath and waited. A couple of moments later he eased the doors open and slipped outside.

Once more, she was alone.

'All right,' said Gerald, having gotten them safely outside the palace and into a section of the gardens full of flowers but not gardeners. 'Have
you
ever heard of polarised lightning, Reg? Because / haven't!'

Reg snickered.'I knew you were fibbing.'

'Yes, well, Melissande's got enough on her plate. So. Have you ever heard of it?'

She clacked her beak thoughtfully. 'I can't say I have, and you know how long I've been around,' she said eventually. 'But the world's a large strange place, Gerald, full of fantastical things. You've only got to look at madam's hairdos to realise that. For all I know, polarised lightning could be a phenomenon peculiar to New Ottosland. It is the only country in the world surrounded by weeks of desert, after all, and who knows what strange things lurk in the sands of Kallarap? It's not like anyone's ever explored them.' She sniffed. 'Not unless you count camels. What do your wizarding senses tell you?'

He stopped and closed his eyes. Breathed deeply for a moment, trying to ignore the hollow pit in his stomach where his breakfast should be, then let his instincts quest outwards.

Silence. Stillness. An odd kind of muffling ...

'Bloody hell!' he said, and opened his eyes. 'The whole place is
dampenedV

'Dampened?' said Reg.

'Like - like - fogged in. There's enough ambient energy to ignite the smaller incants but that's all, I think.' He stared at her. 'You really can't feel it?'

She sighed. 'Of course not. I'm a witch in name only these days, Gerald, you
know
that.'

As always, behind the tartness he heard the aching regret. 'Sorry,' he said, and reached up to stroke her wing.'I'm a bit distracted.'

She flapped from his shoulder to the back of a nearby garden bench. 'You must be if you didn't notice this before.'

Thoroughly disconcerted, he slumped onto the bench beside her. All of a sudden food didn't seem so important.'Do you think it's a side-effect of this polarised lightning?'

She shrugged. 'I suppose it could be.
If
such a thing does exist.'

'If it doesn't,' he said slowly, 'then Lional was lying. Why would he do that?'

'Deary me,' said Reg, rolling her eyes. 'Have I taught you nothing? He's
royalty,
Gerald. As far as royalty's concerned truth is what happens to other people. Unless of course telling the truth will gain us an advantage, in which case we're as honest as the day is long.'

'That still doesn't explain why he'd lie about this.' He drummed his fingers on his knee. 'I suppose the timing could just be a coincidence ... me not being able to contact Monk right when I need to talk with him, urgently, the morning after I have a mysterious accident in the woods. If it
was
a mysterious accident.'

'Trust
me,' said Reg robustly. 'It was mysterious. But what of it? If Lional's
not
a wizard and he
isn't
trying to kill you, which is what
you're
saying, how can this sudden communications blackout be anything
but
a coincidence?'

He looked at her. 'You know, it makes me nervous when you agree with me.'

She snorted. 'But I
don't
agree with you, Gerald. And I
certainly
don't believe in coincidence. This entire situation stinks to high heaven. I might not understand the details yet but I do know this much: that Lional's a weed and he needs to be pulled!'

'I know, Reg,' he sighed, and rubbed his aching head. 'The trouble is I'm not a gardener. I'm a failed probationary compliance officer who can turn cats into lions to impress mad kings and in my spare time ruin an innocent woman's life while pushing two entire nations to the brink of armed conflict.' He groaned. 'How long have we got, do you think?'

She stared down her beak at him. 'To do what, sunshine? Avert a war, depose a madman and rescue a princess?'

'Is that the plan?' He sighed again. 'Yes, I suppose it is. The war part, anyway. If I don't stop that the rest of it won't matter.'

'Not a lot, no,' said Reg.

'We're going to have to move fast,' he said. 'The Kallarapi will be back, and in strength, you can bet on it. That show we put on may have fooled Nerim but it didn't fool Shugat, no matter what Lional thinks. And when Shugat pays us a second visit he won't just bring the sultan's gullible brother. He'll come with hordes of Kallarap's fiercest warriors.'

'Which means we'll need reinforcements,' said Reg, and began to march back and forth along the garden seat's back. 'You're a wonderful young man with unplumbed talents, Gerald, but you aren't an army. That Markham boy
has
to be told what's been happening. He may work in Research and Development but he and his family know everyone who's anyone in wizarding, domestic and foreign.
And
they've got the clout to cut through the red tape.'

She always was one for stating the bleeding obvious. 'I
know
that, Reg, but
how?'

She stopped, tipping her head to one side to stare at him intently. 'You say there's still some etheretic juice in the air?' 'Yes.'

'Enough for an
accelerando maxima?

He nearly fell off the bench. 'A
Speed-Em-Up
hex? Reg, are you out of your
mind?
No. It's out of the question. We've got some time up our sleeves yet, camels can't run that fast. I'll contact Markham once the ether clears, then -'

'And what if it doesn't?' said Reg, severely. 'What if this dampening effect lasts five days, not three? Or a week? Or forever! With a good strong hex to help me along I'll be back in Ottosland in just over two days. I can -'

'Explode into so many pieces there won't be anything left to bury!' he retorted. 'The Speed-Em-Up was
never
designed to be used on living things! Don't you remember the bookmaker and the racehorse? It was
disgusting]
And
that
was using the hex at quarter strength!'

Reg snorted. 'The wizard that bookmaker hired was a third-rate hack who couldn't tie his shoelaces without a diagram and a scantily clad assistant. I have total faith in your ability to do the thing correctly, Gerald. You're a metaphysical prodigy, remember? There's absolutely no reason to assume I'll explode, provided you take the proper precautions. Besides, what other choice is there? We have to reach that Markham boy somehow'