'Yes. I would.' Because he really did want to know. Not just for himself but so — in the unlikely event he got out of this mess — he could tell the authorities. One Lional in the annals of thaumaturgy was one too many.
Lional consulted his pocket watch. 'I suppose we've a few minutes before we must get down to business. Pull up a patch of dirt then, Professor, and I'll tell you my fascinating story.'
He sat on the floor with his back against the rough cave wall and watched as Lional closed his eyes and raised one finger. A moment later an armchair appeared beside him; with a pleased smile, he sat in it.
Gerald swallowed dismay. Oh, hell. A thought. He can translocate objects with a thought. And we must be miles from the palace, we walked for ages. He can translocate objects over miles with just a thought.
His only consolation was that Lional was unable to steal his potentia. Why that was he didn't know or much care. So long as Lional couldn't rip it out of him, as he'd done to Bottomley and the others, there was still a chance of thwarting the mad king's plans.
/ don't know how, but there must be a chance. Because if I don't stop him people are going to die.
Lional cleared his throat. 'Are you listening, Gerald?' he demanded, a distinct and razored edge to his voice.
He wrapped his arms around his knees. Keep him talking, keep him talking. Wliatever you do, don't make him angry. 'Yes, Your Majesty.'
'Then in the tradition of all good fairy tales we shall begin with 'Once Upon A Time',' said Lional, legs crossed, hands elegantly at ease, the epitome of genteel sophistication.'So. Once upon a time, the kings of New Ottosland were magically talented in their own right. As far as I can tell they never actually did anything with it, but nevertheless the talent was there. Unfortunately, over the ensuing generations and most likely due to indiscriminate breeding, our abilities became more and more diluted. In fact until recently we were good for little more than parlour tricks. I mean, Melissande's a dab hand with a crystal ball, Rupert can make butterflies land on his head and with a lot of effort and some nose bleeding / could levitate a pencil half an inch into the air.' He chuckled. 'I can do a trifle more than that now, of course.' Bastard. 'Only because you — ' 1 Manners]' Lional said sharply.
Gerald winced as a frisson of fire whispered through him. Hating Lional so fiercely he could taste it he said,'Sorry, Your Majesty.'
Lional nodded. 'Very well. But don't make me remind you again. Now, to continue. I've always known that to create the New Ottosland of my dreams I'd need power. Wizard power. My stupid father, may he rot in hell, wouldn't give me a wizard of my own, growing up. I had to wait till he died, which wasn't nearly soon enough. But die he did, at long, long last, and I lured Pomodoro Uffitzi into my employ. I wanted him to help me develop my meagre skills. I didn't believe those fools from your Department. I thought all I needed to become a powerful wizard was the proper training.'
'AH the training in the world won't help you if you lack raw talent.'
'Careful, Gerald.' Eyes narrowed, Lional shifted in the chair. 'Pomodoro considered himself the world's foremost thaumaturgical scholar. He had an extraordinary library of magical texts — but he refused to let me see it, can you imagine? Claimed there were books no eyes but his own were fit to look upon. But, like you, Uffitzi underestimated my… dedication.'
He hated giving Lional the satisfaction but he had to know. 'What books, Your Majesty? What didn't he want you to see?'
Lional gazed thoughtfully at the cave's ceiling. 'Well… there was Pygram's Pestilences — that one's fun. Lots of interesting plagues and things to play with in that one. Then there was The Ebony Staff. Some fabulous curses in there, Gerald, you'd be amazed. Hands turning into hooves. Noses falling off, not to mention other bits. Oh yes. Perfectly ingenious. Now, what else? Ah… of course. The most important book of all. The one that changed my life.' He released a slow, ecstatic sigh.'Grummen's Lexicon!
Gerald bit his tongue so hard he drew blood. 'That's impossible. There are only two copies of that book in existence, neither of them intact. They've been split into seventeen sections and dispersed between six different countries, held in separate secret locations, bound by curse and key. You can't have one.'
Lional smiled. 'I'm afraid whoever told you that was a trifle misinformed, Gerald. There are three copies of Grummen's Lexicon in existence. And I keep mine on the bedside table.'
CHAPTER TWENTY
Shaken to sickness, Gerald tried to hide his horror. Saint Snodgrass save us all. Grummen's Lexicon? His belly churned with acid, with undigested food it wanted to reject. 'Yours? You mean Pomodoro Uffitzi's.'
Another amused smile. 'Technically. I suppose. But you know what they say, Gerald. Finder's keepers.'
With an effort he swallowed the scalding bile. Keep him talking. 'And it was the Lexicon that showed you how to strip another wizard's power from him and take it into yourself?'
'Amongst other things,' Lional agreed. 'I'm not saying it was easy, mind you. It wasn't. I had to perform other tasks first, things to prod and provoke my own pathetic potentia into life.' He sighed theatrically, i suffered, Gerald. No-one can imagine how I suffered. But I didn't care. I was doing it for New Ottosland.'
For New Ottosland? he wanted to shout. For yourself, you murdering madman] The more he heard, the more he realised just how dangerous Lional truly was. Powerful, ruthless… and armed with magics so foul, so evil, no sane wizard had ever risked the using of them.
Except Lional's not sane, is he? And he's been studying Grummen's Lexicon. How the hell am I supposed to beat him?
He took a deep steadying breath. 'So you killed Uffitzi and the others,' he said, careful not to sound accusing. 'Took their potentias. Then why try and take mine? You can't need it, you're already more powerful than any wizard in history'
Lional shrugged. 'You'd think so, wouldn't you? Alas. All I can do is what they could do, Gerald. Better, admittedly. With more force, to be sure. But not one of them had the ability to turn Tavistock into a lion. Don't you know how rare that is? How special?'
I do now. And I curse the day I ever thought of becoming a wizard.'I never thought about it…Your Majesty.'
Leaning forward, face alight, Lional said, 'It's incredible. I tried to take your potentia three times. The third attempt nearly finished me. Why? What makes you impervious?'
Gerald shook his head. 'I've no idea.' And even if I did I wouldn't tell you.
Lional sat back, eyes glittering. 'I heard that, Gerald. I'll bet you would, you know. Eventually'
It took everything he had but he didn't drop his gaze from Lional's face. 'You still haven't told me what's so important about Kallarap's desert.'
'No. I haven't. And why do you care? Unless…' Lional thought for a moment then gasped. 'No! Surely you don't think you're going to escape and raise the alarm? Save the day? Be a hero? Oh, GeraldV
He let Lional's mocking laughter wash over him. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but buying more time.
'You're right, Your Majesty' he said, striving to sound hollow and beaten. 'You've won. I can't escape… and I'm no-one's idea of a hero.'
'But you'd like to know what it's all about? Of course,' said Lional, mockingly sympathetic. 'And I'll tell you. I'm not an unreasonable man. If one is to die, one at least should know what one is dying for. That's only fair.'
If one is to die… 'If I'm dead I can't make you a dragon, Your Majesty.'
Lional's smile was lethal. 'I meant afterwards, naturally'
Naturally. 'In which case what incentive do I have to obey you?'
Again, the lethal smile. 'Trust me, Gerald. I can provide all the incentive you require. But we can discuss that later. You wanted to know about Kallarap s desert?'
If he let himself think too closely about what Lional was implying he'd lose the last of his dwindling courage.'Yes, Your Majesty'
Lional resettled himself comfortably in the incongruous armchair. 'The Kallarapi Desert, Gerald, far from
