pain in his chest with it.
'Hmmph,' said Reg's slightly muffled voice from above him. 'You're awake.' He looked up: she was sitting on the bed's padded headboard, consuming a mouse.'It's about time.The clock's just struck seven.'
'Reg! How many times do I have to say it? No eating in bed!'
'Now, now, keep your underpants on,' she replied, unmoved. 'I'm not a young woman any more and a sight like that might do me a mischief.'
'So help me, Reg, if you leave the tail in the bedclothes again…'
Hopping onto a convenient pillow she slurped down the last inch of mouse and gave a genteel burp. 'Happy now? Right. The way I see it, if we get a move on we should be back through the portal to Ottosland before that murderous lunatic Lional has even opened his eyes. Do you want to start packing or shall I?' He sat up.'Neither. I'm having a bath.'
Closing the ensuite door on her outraged shrieks, he inspected himself in the mirror as the tub filled with steaming water. The lump on his skull had almost disappeared and the sore spot on his chest barely protested when he poked at it. That was the good news. The bad news was his memory still hadn't returned. And, after yesterday's hours in the saddle, the rest of his body felt like it had been racked.
Inching himself into the bath, moaning as the seeping heat began to unknot his tortured muscles, he closed his eyes and tried to make sense of the chaos that was currently his life. In the sober light of morning, and without that vicious pounding headache, the idea of Lional as a homicidal maniac seemed increasingly unlikely. Not only was the king completely without motive, wizards just weren't that easy to murder. They had in-built alarms. Extra sensitivities. Wizards got murdered by other wizards, not civilians, even if said civilians were royal.
So. That disposed of one problem. Unfortunately it still left him with several others, the most pressing ot which was the Kallarapi situation.
Even if Lional had tried to murder him, which he hadn't, he couldn't possibly leave New Ottosland before making sure he'd prevented a full-scale religious conflict with the kingdom's neighbour… or found a way to stop Melissandes unwilling marriage to Zazoor.
If Lional was so keen on asking for his advice, he'd make sure to give him some. Forget the marriage. Pay your debts. Pull your head in. And no religious hanky-panky.
Once all that was accomplished then he'd go home to Ottosland. Much cheered, he finished bathing.
Reg had made herself comfortable on his pillow and was in the middle of a half-hearted primping session. She took one look at his face as he emerged pink, damp and towel-wrapped from the bathroom and groaned. 'You're not leaving, are you?'
'I'm sorry' he said, hunting through his chest of drawers for fresh clothing. 'I know you're worried but I can't leave until I've stopped Lional from provoking a war when he doesn't have an army to protect his kingdom with.'
'He doesn't have one now! said Reg. 'But that doesn't mean he can't get one.'
He looked up from buttoning his shirt. 'How? There's no such thing as a mail-order defence force.'
'There doesn't need to be. You forget that somewhere in this drafty old pile of a palace there's a nursery with a whole battalion of tin soldiers in it.' 'So?'
'So you've got a nifty knack of turning one thing into another, haven't you?'
He gaped at her. ' What? You think I'd turn tin soldiers into real ones? That could hurt people?'
'Not willingly, no,' said Reg. 'But I think if Lional put his mind to it he could be very… persuasive.'
'I would never use my magic to make something that could hurt people, no matter what Lional said!'
Reg considered her wing tips. 'It's not his pretty speeches that worry me, sunshine.'
'So now you're saying he'd try to — to torture me? How? I'm a wizard, Reg! A damned powerful one as it turns out. He wouldn't get close enough to torture me, I'd have him flat on his back and across the other side of the room before he took one step towards me.'
Reg shrugged.'He managed to lay you out cold and get you to forget how it happened, Gerald. Right now I wouldn't put anything past him.'
'Oh, don't start that again! For Lional to do what you're suggesting he'd have to be a wizard himself, and he's not. I can smell a wizard a mile away'
She considered him steadily. 'Really? You didn't smell that tatty old Shugat, did you, till he was right under your nose.'
Damn. He didn't think she'd noticed that. 'Shugat's not a wizard. Not in the accepted sense of the word. He's a holy man. All bets are off when it comes to religion. And Lional is not a wizard. The only thing he smells of is expensive aftershave. Anyway, if he was a wizard he wouldn't need me, would he? Now can we please not talk about this any more?'
She flapped from the pillow to the chest of drawers. 'What about Humphret Bottomley?'
He retreated to the bedroom armchair and threw himself into it.'What about him?' 'He's missing.' 'No, he's not!'
'That Markham boy says no-one's heard from him in months,' she retorted. 'In my book that's called missing.' She sniffed. 'But in yours, apparently, it's called wilfully disregarding the facts.'
'What facts? There are no facts! There's just you having some kind of mid-life crisis!'
She fixed him with a gimlet glare. 'Trust me, sunshine, when I'm having a crisis you'll be the first to know. Now wake up your crystal ball and call that Markham boy. Tell him what's happened around here in the last day and see if he doesn't agree with me. And while you're at it, see if he knows how many more of Lional's ex-court wizards have disappeared.'
He drummed his heels into the carpet. 'Reg…' But it was depressingly clear from the look on her face that she'd give him no rest until he indulged her, so he stamped to the workshop, activated the crystal ball… and completely failed to get a call through to Monk.
'Did you get the address right?' said Reg, flapping from the bench to Gerald's shoulder. 'Try the wretched thing again.' 'Yes of course I got the address right,' he said, teeth gritted.'And I was just about to try again.' He did. Still nothing.
'Maybe it's the ball,' said Reg. There was just the faintest hint of panic in her voice. 'It's an old ball, Gerald, it was fourth or fifth hand when you got it and it's taken a bashing in the last few years. Try it again.Third time lucky'
'Or unlucky, as the case may be,' he said a moment later, staring at the inert lump of crystal in front of him.'Now what?'
Reg clattered her beak. 'Now we sneak into Madam Fashion Plate's office and use her crystal ball.'
'Why sneak? Why don't I just go and ask Melissande — '
'Because she's being guarded under lock and key, remember? We don't have time to fart about with all that. Being underhand is faster.' 'What about my breakfast?'
'Bugger your breakfast, Gerald!' snapped Reg, launching herself into the air. 'We have to get cracking. I've got a very bad feeling about this!'
Groaning, he followed her out of the workshop. 'Wait, Reg, I really need my breakfast!'
But she was already on her way to the foyer, so he shoved his sockless feet into his shoes and hurried to join her. 'You'll have to pick the lock,' said Reg, as he rattled Melissande's office door-handle. 'Quick, before a lackey comes along.'
Gerald rolled his eyes. 'A lackey would be useful, Reg. I could ask them to let us in.'
'At this hour of the morning?' she snapped. 'Go on, you know how to diddle it. Stop dithering and get us inside!'
He turned his head to stare at her nose to beak. ' What has gotten into you?' 'I told you. I've got a very bad feeling.'
'So have I,' he muttered, and sprung the lock with a word and snap of his fingers.'Doctors call it dangerously low blood sugar.'They slipped into the office. 'So where's the crystal ball?' he whispered, staring at Melissandes desk. 'It was right there, she was using it as a paperweight.'
'Search me,' said Reg. 'She must've had an unexpected fit of tidiness and put it away somewhere. Start looking.'
If Melissande finds out about this she's going to kill me. He hunted in the cupboards, behind the books in the bookcases and in the filing cabinets. Opened all the desk drawers, including the ones that were locked, and nearly
