The Song of the Quarkbeast

‘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