Scunthorpe, despised by Errol Haythwaite and benignly bullied by Reg. Reg.
Oh, lord. How long before she reached Ottosland and Monk? How long before she could raise the alarm?
'GeraldV said Lional and slapped him, hard. 'Pay attention!' Cheek burning, he opened his eyes.
He stood in a cave as large as a ballroom. It was lit like a ballroom, too, bobbing round lights clustered high beneath the rocky ceiling. Unlike most caves, this one had no mouth. The only way in or out was through the carved wooden door behind him.
'Excellent!' said Lional. 'You know, Gerald, you'll find we'll get along very much better if you just do what you're told when you're told and how you're told to do it.'
He tried to speak but the words wouldn't come. He heard himself grunt, an animal sound.
Lional frowned. 'Oh dear. I think we'd best put you back the way you were, Professor, before you embarrass yourself Pulling a green stone out of one black silk trouser pocket he breathed on it, whispering, then held it up before his captive's eyes. 'Look deep now, Gerald.' Helpless, he looked.
A rush of burning, as though the incant sunk through his flesh and bones had suddenly caught fire. A spinning dizziness, the feeling of being drawn swiftly upwards by an invisible thread. The ring on his finger flared, searing. He cried out in pain, another animal sound.
And then he was free. He staggered backwards until his shoulder-blades met the unforgiving cave wall, ripped the signet ring from his finger and threw it into the dirt. 'Reg was right. You tried to kill me.'
Lional considered him thoughtfully. 'Not… precisely. And really, is that any way to treat a present?' 'Fine. You tried to steal my power then kill me.'
'Close enough,' Lional conceded. 'The goal was indeed to appropriate your magicali potentia, as I appropriated the potentias of the five wizards who came before you. Your death, like theirs, would've been a convenient side effect.'
Gerald laughed, unwisely triumphant. 'But I'm not like those other wizards, am I? You failed… Your Majesty.'
A muscle leapt along Lional's jaw. 'Don't get your hopes up, Gerald. I haven't failed yet.' His eyes lit with an inner fire and his aura ignited, crackling fiercely, silently, in a nimbus of purple and black. 'I am a wizard, after all.'
Despite himself, he flinched. The malevolence radiating from Lional's display was choking. He felt befouled, nauseated.'You're no wizard. You're just a thief
Lional's fist quenched the flare of power. The fire in his eyes dwindled to a pinprick of crimson light, flickering deep. 'Wrong, Gerald. I am unique!
'What you are is stark staring bonkers. Raving lunacy on legs.'
All of Lional's masculine beauty vanished. Twisted with hate and a brooding malice he took a step forward, fist raised. 'Don't push me, Gerald! I can be quite… vengeful… when I'm pushed.'
'You've already been pushed, mate, right over the edge!'
'InsolenceV hissed Lional. 'Hold your tongue, peasant! It's time for you to make me a dragon.'
Gerald swallowed. Keep him talking. That was all he could do, keep the mad king talking and pray that Reg got back in time with Monk and the Department's cavalry. 'Are you deaf as well as insane?' he sneered. 'How many times do you need me to say it? I will never make you a dragon. And anyway, even if I did it, wouldn't do you any good. The Kallarapi aren't stupid. You just wish they were. Shugat won't buy your fake dragon any more than he bought Reg and Tavistock. He'll let loose his holy man powers on you and once you're dead the world will be a better place!'
'Shugat?' Lional laughed, the sound raggedly bouncing from wall to wall. 'Shugat will burn! Zazoor will burn! Every last Kallarapi shall burn to ash and bone and their desert will be rnineV
And that really was crazy. 'Yours? Why the hell do you want their desert?'
An indrawn breath, then Lional stopped. The fury and rapacity wiped clean from his face, as though his features were made of fine pale sand and a smoothing hand had passed across them. He smiled politely, urbanity incarnate. 'AH in good time, Gerald.'
He pushed away from the wall. 'I don't have good time. I'm leaving.'
'I don't think so,' said Lional and clapped his hands.'Impedimentia implacatol
Gerald's feet froze to the cave floor in mid-stride; he paddled the air frantically, trying not to fall over. Balance regained, he snapped his fingers. 'Nux nullimia!' Nothing happened.
'You're wasting your time,' said Lional, eyes glinting with petty amusement. 'Ingeniously hidden in this cave is a lodestone, calibrated to suppress all thaumaturgical signatures except my own. A rather clever modification I designed, feel free to be impressed. Until I say otherwise, your formidable powers are completely inaccessible to you, Gerald. So you see? You have no choice but to help me.'
A lodestone. Things just kept on getting better and better… 'I'll help you all right. All the way to a full tribunal hearing at the United Magical Nations and from there into a not too comfortable cell where you can spend the rest of your miserable, manipulative, criminal life!'
'No, I can't say that's what I had in mind,' Lional mused. 'I was thinking more along the lines of us crushing the Kallarapi and ushering in New Ottosland's bigger, brighter future.'
'Us?' Gerald laughed. Even to himself he sounded unsteady, on the edge. 'There's no us here. There's just me and a well-dressed murderer.'
Lional pulled a face. 'Oh come now, Gerald, there's no need to be parochial. You're a wizard, man. You have to think beyond the mundane. Yes, some people have died. But it was in a good cause. New Ottosland's cause. Their sacrifices will be remembered, I promise. I'll put a plaque on a wall somewhere with all their names on it, how does that sound?' 'Insane,' he said grimly. 'Just like you.' Lional lifted a warning finger. 'Careful, Gerald.'
He gasped as a bolt of pain shot through him. Blood trickled down the back of his throat. He swallowed, gagging at the metallic taste.
Don't antagonise him, you fool. Keep him talking. He wants to boast. Show off. Encourage him, don't make him angry. Every minute he keeps talking is a minute that gets you closer to rescue. 'You put the kybosh on the crystal ball.'
'I did,' said Lional, smiling complacently. 'I wasn't entirely convinced your memory was gone. Didn't want to risk you making any inconvenient calls. Polarised lightning! He laughed. 'I do wish I could've seen your face as I fed Melissande that rigmarole. I expect it was priceless!'
Gerald felt his fingers clench into fists. 'You knew I was there.'
The complacent smile returned.'Of course. The potentias of five wizards, remember? Why do you think I made up all that drivel in the first place? For Melissande? Hardly'
'Well I'll give you this much, Lional. You may be crazy but you're not an idiot.'
'No, Rupert's the idiot in my family,' said Lional, then raised a sharp finger. 'And I'd appreciate it, Gerald, if you addressed me with just a little more respect.'
Another flaring bolt of pain. Another rush of blood down the back of his throat. Anchored to the floor by Lional's incant he dropped to his knees, nearly breaking both ankles. 'All right, all rightl I'm sorry, Your MajestyV Lional looked down at him. 'That's better.'
'Fine. Now would you please release the impedimentia implacatcR You said it yourself, I can't hurt you in here and I think the blood's stopped flowing to my feet.'
After a moment Lional nodded. 'Very well. Since you asked so nicely' He waved one hand and whispered under his breath.
Gerald felt a tingle run through his legs. Moving carefully, he levered himself back onto his feet. Stamped them to get the feeling back. 'Thank you.' Lional's eyebrows lifted. 'Your Majesty' Keep him talking, keep him talking. 'I wonder… can I ask you something else?' 'If you must,' sighed Lional.
'Rupert — His Highness — said you had no magical aptitude. If that's true how is any of this possible?'
'Rupert said?' Lional frowned. 'Well, well. What a little rattle-tongue young Rupert is proving to be. I shall have to speak to him. Severely'
Damn. 'Don't! Rupert's as harmless as one of his butterflies, you know he is. Leave him alone.'With an effort, he moderated his tone. 'Please, Your Majesty.'
Lional considered him. 'Well… perhaps you're right.' He shrugged. 'And so is Rupert. I have no real natural metaphysical aptitude of my own.' 'Then how did you steal — ' 'You'd like me to explain?'
