The Song of the Quarkbeast: Last Dragonslayer: Book Two (25 page)

Moobin introduced them and they shook my hand in a doubtful manner. I knew for a fact that Blix had referred to me as ‘that upstart foundling’ and it looked as if they shared the sentiment.

‘I have heard great things about you,’ said Dame Corby in a voice taut with forced politeness.

‘I too,’ said Tchango.

‘I’m Samantha Flynt,’ said Samantha in a breezy tone, giving me her hand to shake, ‘but it’s pronounced without the first “A”.’

‘Smantha?’

‘That’s it. I don’t have my licence yet, but I’m working very hard on my studies. It’s tricky because, well,’ she tapped her temple with a fingertip, ‘I’ve not much upstairs. Why are you staring at me?’

I took a step back and nudged Moobin.

‘What?’ he said.

‘
Shifter
,’ I said out of the corner of my voice.

‘You’re going to have to speak up. I can’t hear you.’

‘
SHAPE-SHIFTER
!’ I said in a louder voice, and pointed unsubtly at the apparently pretty girl in front of me. Moobin understood what I meant and had a standard Magnaflux Reversal on her in a heartbeat, in order to uncover the Blix hiding within. Surprisingly, there was no effect at all, except her ringlets disappeared, her nose became slightly less cute, her eyes reduced in colour and blueness and her waist size increased by half a size. A Magnaflux Reversal reversed
all
spells, irrespective of who cast them. She had been augmenting herself.

‘Whoops,’ she said, putting a hand to her nose, ‘this is, like,
so
embarrassing.’

But we had more important things to worry about than Samantha’s vanity.

‘Samantha, were you here ten minutes ago?’ I demanded.

‘It’s without the first “A”.’

‘
Smantha
, were you here earlier?’

Her now not-so-large eyes opened wide.

‘Absolutely not!’

Samantha had remained Samantha for the simple reason that she
was
Samantha. The first one had been the impostor. There was only one person it could be.

‘Blix is in the building,’ I yelled. ‘Containment plan “D”!’

Plan ‘D’ was one of several we had planned in case of emergencies. In this case, the possibility of something nasty being created that couldn’t be allowed to get out of the building. We’d used it on a phantasm a few weeks back who managed to escape from its bell-jar, and it was quite a job to get it back in – especially as a plan D seals the hotel, and there is only about four days’ worth of air contained within its walls.

Dame Corby and Tchango Muttney were the first to react by diving under the table with a yelp. They were more frightened of Blix than us, and they were meant to be colleagues. The Prices and Moobin responded more sensibly and steel shutters suddenly appeared across the windows and external doors with a chunk-chunk-chunk that echoed throughout the old building. Perkins dashed to the door to the dining room and peered out.

‘All clear out here,’ he said.

‘Wandering in here is a big risk,’ observed Full Price, ‘he must want something badly.’

‘He knows RUNIX and wants revenge,’ I said as a knot began to tighten in my stomach, ‘and we have four Gig of raw crackle sitting in the Palm Court.’

We tumbled out of the dining room and headed downstairs to the Palm Court, which predictably enough had a seven-headed dog with flaming eyes standing guard outside. It growled menacingly, the hair on its seven necks bristling aggressively while its fourteen front legs pawed the parquet flooring and drool dripped from its seven tongues and two hundred and ninety-four teeth.

Those less well acquainted with seven-headed dogs gave out a gasp of horror, but Moobin muttered ‘Amateur!’ and strode through the illusory beast, which evaporated like smoke. Once inside the Palm Court we found the excellent facsimile of Samantha Flynt working at the tear we had last seen open when Monty Vanguard failed so utterly to break the passthought. Next to her were Lady Mawgon and Monty, still stone.

‘I lost my way to the bathroom,’ said the faux Samantha as she gave a heart-melting smile.

‘It’s over, Blix,’ said Moobin.

‘Step away from the Dibble,’ ordered Full Price, index finger at the ready. I knew that he’d never newted anyone, but was itching to do so.

‘It might have looked like I was frightened by that dog thing,’ said Tiger, ‘but I wasn’t.’

‘She looks sort of familiar,’ said the real Samantha.

‘Quark,’ said the Quarkbeast.

‘We can negotiate your surrender,’ I said, stepping forward, partly to stop him being newted – he currently had eight fingers pointed at him, and while Perkins’ skills in these matters were questionable, I knew that the Prices and Moobin could take him in an instant. I think Blix knew this as he melted out of Samantha and back into himself. He made a move to give a slow handclap.

‘
DON’T MOVE A MUSCLE
!’ I yelled. ‘And
very
slowly: fingers toward the floor.’

Blix smiled but didn’t comply.

‘We can talk about this. All wizards together.’

‘Let him make a move on us, Jenny. I so want to take him out.’

‘No, Moobin. Blix? Fingers down.
Really
slowly.’

He looked at us all in turn, then slowly swivelled his hands until his index fingers were pointing straight down.

‘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 themselves 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?’