Roogna's eyes widened. 'Murphy! You're right, of course! This is his doing! If alienophobia could interfere, it does interfere!'
Dor too was startled. That was it, certainly! Magician Murphy had laid a curse on the construction of the Castle, and Jumper's offer had triggered it. The centaurs were not really to blame.
'You are a sensible, generous creature,' the King said to Jumper. 'Since you plead the cause of those who wrong you, I must abate my action. I regret the necessity, and the wrong done you, but it seems I cannot take advantage of your kind offer of assistance.' He dismissed the flying dragon with a kingly offhand gesture. 'The centaurs are allies, not servants; they labor on the Castle because they are most proficient at this sort of construction. I have done return favors for them. I regret that I let my temper slip. Please feel free to use my facilities until I can arrange for your escort. Meanwhile, you are welcome to watch me operate here, though I hope you will not interrupt my concentration with foolish questions.'
They settled down to watch the King. Dor was quite curious about the actual mechanism for adapting a spell. Did the King just command it, as Dor commanded objects to speak, or was it a silent effort of will? But hardly had Roogna gotten the balky water dragon placed before a messenger-imp ran up. 'King, sir- there's been a foul-up at the construction site! The wrong spell was on the building blocks, and they're pushing each other apart instead of pulling themselves together.'
'The wrong spell!' Roogna roared indignantly. 'I adapted that spell myself only last week!' There followed a brief discussion. It turned out that a full course of blocks had been laid in the wrong place, causing their spells to conflict with those of the next course instead of meshing. Someone had fouled up, and the error had not been caught in time. They were large blocks, each weighing many hundreds of pounds.
Roogna tore out a few hairs from his rapidly graying head. 'The curse of Murphy again! This will cost us another week! Do I have to lay every block with my own frail hands? Tell them to rip out that course and replace it with the correct one.'
The imp scurried off, and the King returned to his task. But just as he was about to work his magic, another imp arrived. 'Hey, King-a goblin army is marching from the south!'
Grimly the King asked: 'What is its estimated time of arrival?'
'ETA zero minus ten days.'
'That's one shoe,' the King muttered, and returned to his work. Naturally the water dragon had wandered out of place, and had to be coaxed laboriously back. Murphy's curse operated in small ways, too.
The King was shortly interrupted by yet another imp. 'Roog, old boy-a harpy flight is massing in the north!'
'ETA?'
'Ten days.'
'The other shoe,' Roogna said resignedly. 'The two forces will converge on this spot, courtesy of Murphy, and by the time they have destroyed each other, the landscape will be in ruins and Castle Roogna in rubble. If we had only been able to complete the breastworks in time-but now that is hopeless. My enemy has done some remarkably apt scheming. I am forced to admire it.'
'He's a smart man,' Dor said. 'There must be some way to divert those armies, if they're not really after the Castle. I mean, if the goblins and harpies don't care about the Castle at all, but only happen to be fighting here.' He was disturbed. It didn't seem that his presence had caused this problem, but he wasn't quite sure. If his encounters with the harpies and goblins had set them both off-
'Any direct attempt at diversion would cause them both to attack us,' Roogna said. 'They are extremely intractable creatures. We lack the inclination and means to fend off either of those brute hordes. In your world, Man may be the dominant creature, but here that has not yet been established.'
'If you recruited some more creatures to help you-'
'I would have to dissipate my magic repaying them for that service-instead of working on the Castle.'
'Your human army-can't you call it back from furlough?'
'Murphy's curse is especially apt at interfering with organizational messages. I doubt we could summon the full complement back before the monsters arrived. And I'm sure those men need to protect their own homesteads from the advancing monsters. I think it better to defend the Castle with what we have on hand. That's a small chance, but as good as the alternative. I fear Murphy has really checked me, this time.'
Maybe another Magician could help-' Dor interrupted himself with another thought. 'The Zombie Master! Would his help make the difference?'
The King considered. 'Yes, it probably would. Because he represents a primary focus of magic, with all its ramifications, and because he is relatively close, with no Gap to navigate in getting here, and because his zombies could man the battlements without number or upkeep: the ideal army in this kind of situation. Just feeding my own army during siege would be a terrific problem; we have supplies only for the crews working here now. But this is useless conjecture; the Zombie Master does not participate in politics.'
'I have to go see him anyway,' Dor exclaimed, excited. 'I could talk to him, explain what is at stake-' To hell with caution! If the King was about to lose without Dor's help, why not take the risk? He really could do no harm. 'Jumper could come along; he's better than I am at lots of things. The worst I could do is fail.'
The King stroked his beard. 'There is that. I regard it as a long shot, but since you are willing-tell the Zombie Master I would be willing to make some reasonable exchange for his assistance.' He cocked a finger, and another imp appeared. Dor wondered where those imps hid when not in use; the King was evidently well attended, though he made little show of it. Like King Trent, he masked his power except when show was necessary. 'Prepare an escort and guide for an excursion to the castle of the Zombie Master. Magician Dor will depart in the morning on a mission for me.'
But in the morning there was one more: Millie the maid. 'With the Castle delayed, and the household staff shipping out during the emergency, I have no job yet,' she explained. 'Maybe I can help.'
In future centuries she would be a sad ghost, and come to know the zombie Jonathan, and seek to restore him. She knew nothing of this now, but Dor did. How could he deny her, her chance to assist him in this mission-since it was ultimately for her? Maybe in some way she could help.
Why did he feel so glad for her company? He knew he could never-she was not-his body appreciated aspects of her that he himself had hardly glimpsed, but she could never be his in that way. So why should he fool himself with impossible notions?
