concentrate my mind on that lead soldier, summon up every Shandar in my body and let fly. For twenty-eight years nothing has happened; not a flicker. But this morning—’
‘Big Magic!’ yelled the younger Karamazov sister.
Wizard Moobin looked up abruptly.
‘Do you think so?’
‘Rubbish,’ returned her sister, ‘don’t listen to her—she’s one spell short of a curse.’
‘I was more powerful in the rewiring job yesterday,’ Moobin said thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps the surge has sustained for a bit longer.’
This, I mused, was possible. The background wizidrical power was subject to periodical fluctuations. There were, however, more practical matters to consider.
‘I hate to be a stickler for regulations,’ I said, ‘but you’re going to have to fill out a form B2-5C for this. I know we’re in the Towers, but we should stay on the safe side. We’d better do a P3-8F as well, just in case.’
‘P3-8F?’ queried Moobin. ‘I haven’t heard of
‘Experimental spells resulting in accidental damage of a physical nature,’ put in the younger Karamazov sister, who, despite the repeated lightning strikes, could still have moments of lucidity.
‘I see,’ replied Moobin, turning to me. ‘If you fill them in, I’ll sign them.’
I left him to tidy up and walked downstairs to the ground floor, where I met Tiger and the Quarkbeast as they returned. Tiger had a graze on his nose, his clothes were scuffed and he had some twigs in his hair.
‘If he starts to run you have to drop his leash as soon as possible.’
‘I know that now.’
‘Did he drag you far?’
‘It wasn’t the distance,’ replied Tiger, ‘it was the terrain. What’s going on?’
‘Wizard Moobin experienced a surge,’ I said as we entered the offices in the Avon Suite. I sat down at my desk and pulled the
‘I thought the power of magic was diminishing?’
‘It is, in general. But every now and again it surges upwards and they can all do things they haven’t been able to do for years. The problem is that surges usually herald a slump, and if you couple this with what Kevin Zipp told us yesterday, we could find ourselves unemployed pretty soon.’
‘The death of a Dragon? You think that might actually happen?’
‘I don’t know,’ I replied, ‘but there’s a reason Kazam is based in the Kingdom of Hereford. We’re twenty miles away from the Dragonlands, and while a link between Dragons and magic has never been fully proved, there’s more than enough anecdotal evidence to connect the two. In any event,’ I added, ‘I think we need to find out more.’
‘By the way,’ said Tiger, ‘is the Quarkbeast allowed to chew corrugated iron before breakfast?’
‘Only galvanised,’ I replied without looking up, ‘the zinc keeps his scales shiny.’
There was an excited buzz in the breakfast room that morning, and not just because Unstable Mabel had agreed to cook waffles. The talk was about Moobin’s accomplishment and how everyone’s power seemed to have increased. Although they had all gone off to try the ‘lead into gold’ gag for themselves, no-one else had succeeded, leading me to believe that Moobin had managed it only because he was the sole person up that morning, and the battery of wizidrical power that was Zambini Towers had been available to him and him alone.
Aside from the brief excitement, there seemed to be little going on that morning. I had a job for Full Price to divine the position of a wedding ring that had been flushed accidentally down the loo, and another tree-moving job that the Green Man and Patrick of Ludlow could handle. I sorted through the mail. There were a few cheques so at least I could speak to the bank manager again. There was also a letter that carried the official seal of the Hereford City Council, and it informed me that our contract to clean the city’s drains would not be renewed. I called my contact at the council to try to find out why.
‘The fact is,’ said Tim Brody, who was acting assistant deputy head of drains, ‘that Blok-U-Gon, the well- known and TV-advertised industrial drain unblockers, have undercut your price, and we have a budget to think of.’
‘I’m sure we can come to some arrangement,’ I said, trying to act how Mr Zambini might. Some work we did at a loss, either simply to keep the sorcerers busy, or to give us a presence in the marketplace. We needed the public to see us working in order to gain their trust and promote wizardry as simply a way of life. The last thing we needed was for the fifteenth-century view of sorcerers to spring to the fore, and for the citizenry to regard those at Kazam with loathing and mistrust.
‘Listen,’ I said, ‘a drain cleared by magic is the best way. It doesn’t smell, no fuss, you don’t have to be embarrassed by what you blocked it up with, and besides, I offer a good guarantee. If it blocks again within twenty-four hours we redo the job for free and charm the moles from your garden—or your face: the choice is yours. I even do the form B1-7Gs for you. Besides, it’s
‘It’s not just the cost, Jennifer. My mother used to be a sorceress so I’ve always tried to use you guys. The problem is that King Snodd’s useless brother has recently bought a five per cent share in Blok-U-Gon, and, well, you see?’
‘Oh,’ I said, realising that this was bigger than both of us, ‘right. Thanks for your time, Tim. I’m sure you did your best.’
I hung up. Although King Snodd IV was in general a fair and just ruler who seldom put people to death without good reason, he was not averse to making edicts that were of financial benefit to him and his immediate family. There was nothing I could do. He was the King, after all, and, indentured servitude or not, I and all those who held Hereford nationality were loyal subjects of the Crown.
‘We just lost the drain unblocking contract to King Snodd’s useless brother,’ I said.
‘I don’t know about his useless brother, but Mother Zenobia took us all to see King Snodd on Military Hardware Parade Day,’ remarked Tiger thoughtfully.
‘What did you think?’
‘The landships were impressive.’
‘I meant about the King.’
He thought for a moment.
‘Shorter than he looks during the weekly TV address.’
‘He does the address sitting down.’
‘Even so.’
But Tiger was right.
‘The six-foot-tall Queen Mimosa doesn’t help him,’ I observed. ‘She used to work here thirty years ago when she was plain Miss Mimosa Jones. Mr Zambini said she could pollinate plants over seven times more efficiently than bees. A good little earner, he said, given Hereford’s fruit exports. But then Prince Snodd took an interest, proclaimed his undying love and she renounced her calling to be the princess, later Queen. Mr Zambini was sad to lose her, but the bees were relieved to be back to full employment.’
‘She’s very beautiful,’ said Tiger.
‘And witty and wise,’ I added, ‘what with all the stand-up comedy she does, and the Troll Wars Widows charity.’
‘Quark.’
The door to the office cracked open and a large man with a sharp suit and a fedora put his head round the door. He soon noticed the Quarkbeast. Hard not to, really.
‘Does he, er... bite?’
‘Never deeper than the bone.’
He jumped.
‘My joke, Mr... ?’
The large man looked relieved and entered. He removed his hat and sat in the chair I offered him while Tiger was dispatched to fetch a cup of tea.
‘My name is Mr Trimble,’ announced the man, ‘of Trimble, Trimble, Trimble, Trimble and Trimble, attorneys-at-law.’
