renowned for their past dabblings in unsavoury practices. Who knows what grimoires he managed to find in that time?'
'And ever so carefully forgot to declare to the authorities?' said Reg.'Saint Snodgrass preserve us!' if I'm right, I have to notify the Department.'
'Yes, but after we've found Gerald,' said Reg. She chattered her beak, thinking hard. 'He must be around here somewhere.'
Very carefully Melissande laid Markham's damp handkerchief over the arm of her chair.'Lional said he was in private retreat, meditating.' Reg snorted. 'Meditating my feathered arse. He's being held prisoner.' 'Maybe he's run away'
'Stop being deliberately provocative. I'll bet you a nice pair of high-heeled pumps, ducky, Gerald's 'accident' in the forest was Lional not being able to steal his potentia. That means our mad king needs him to do his dirty work for him — whatever that is.Trust me, he won't be far away'
'But he will be somewhere with a decent amount of space,' added Markham. 'We know the dirty work involved a Level Twelve transmog that makes the cat-into-lion trick look puny. Melissande, do you have any idea what Lional wanted Gerald to make?'
She glared at him. 'Of course not! Who do you think I am, his evil sidekick? I don't have the first idea what — ' And then she turned to Reg.
'Hell's bells,' Reg whispered, as they stared at each other in sudden, appalled comprehension. 'Are you thinking what I'm thinking, madam? The Kallarapi gods. Tavistock as Lalchak… me as Vorsluk…'
Melissande shot out of the chair.' Grimthak] Oh my God, Reg! Gerald's made a bloody dragonV
Reg turned, her dark eyes blazing. 'Markham, get us out ofhereV
He flung himself at the foyer doors. Spread his fingers flat to the polished oak surface and pressed his cheek between them. After a moment he began to hum off-key. A moment after that, alarmingly, his unruly dark hair developed a life of its own, weaving and unweaving itself around his head in a series of bizarre patterns.
'Ah — wouldn't the window have been easier?' she asked. 'Don't distract him!' hissed Reg.
As she watched, holding her breath, Markham's face began to twist with pain. The humming became a groan and a bloody sweat broke out on his forehead. Moments later there was an explosion of light and sound and a billow of foul green smoke. Markham, shouting, flew across the foyer, struck the far wall and slid moaning to the floor.
As Reg exclaimed in the background Melissande dropped to her knees beside him. 'Monkl Are you all right?' i think I'm going to be sick,' he groaned. 'Not in my foyer you're not!' He heaved himself upright.'Okay'
'Good!' said Reg, hovering now between the splintered remains of the foyer doors. 'Now come on, you two. Let's find Gerald!'
She helped Markham to his feet. 'Give him a moment, you nagging old hag! He was practically knocked unconscious!'
'Gerald's running out of moments!' Reg shouted, flapping madly. 'How long will your brother keep him around, do you think, now that he's got his precious dragon?'
'Reg is right,' said Markham, still looking sick. 'We have to go.'
'Go where? I've no idea where Gerald is. Have you?'
'No. But if we're lucky I can find him with a locator incant. I'll need something to guide me.'
'Then what are waiting for?' demanded Reg, still haphazardly hovering. 'Let's get to our suite!'
They raced through deserted corridors and up and down empty staircases to the palace's official wizard's residence. Gasping for air, Reg landed on a foyer chair and pointed a wing.
'The bedroom's that way. Fetch a used sock, Markham. That should have a good strong scent.'
As Markham fetched, Melissande frowned. 'Something strange is going on. The place is deserted, we didn't see anybody between here and my apartments. Where's everyone got to? There are always servants scurrying around here, it's like a damned anthill.'
Before Reg could comment Markham returned with a limp red sock. 'This should do it. Now I need a map of the kingdom.'
'There's one in the Guide to New Ottosland I left here for Gerald.'
Reg jerked her beak. 'It's in, the dresser, underneath that painting of the constipated cow on the wall there.'
'He shoved it in a drawer?' said Melissande, offended, as Markham found the pink folder. 'Did he even read it? I'll bet he didn't. I spent hours putting that guide together, you know!'
'And now it's come in very useful,' said Reg, 'which only goes to show there's a first time for everything. Now be quiet and let Markham focus.'
Melissande swallowed.'Will the incant still work if the person you're trying to find is — you know — '
Markham glanced up from spreading the guide's map on the foyer table. 'Dead?' he said. 'No. It won't.'
'Anyway, he can't be dead,' she added, desperate for a bright side. 'You said Lional couldn't kill him.' 'Not with magic, apparently. No.' She didn't need him to elaborate. 'Oh.'
Reg flapped from her chair to the table and glared. 'Any more clever questions, ducky?' 'Not for the moment.'
'That's a relief. Now come on, Markham. Let's get cracking.'
Markham nodded curtly, his face pale and serious. He wrapped Gerald's sock around his left hand, extended the index finger of his right hand and held it over the map of New Ottosland. 'Seekati. Kevelati. Demonstrate.'
Almost before the words had left his lips the tip of his pointing index finger flared into life as though a light had been switched on under the skin.
He laughed. 'We've got him, Reg! He's still alive!' 'Yes, but where?' Reg demanded.
His pointing finger started zigzagging across the map.'Hang on, it's trying to home in on him now.' Another zig and two more zags and his finger jabbed itself to a standstill.'There.' He peered at the map. 'Tolepootle Valley. Melissande?' 'That's miles from here. It'll take hours to — '
'No, it won't. The Stealth Stone's fine with miles. What can we expect when we get there?'
Before she could answer they heard a thundering of feet in the corridor outside the suite and a cacophony of alarmed cries.
'Now what?' said Reg, and rattled all her feathers. 'Quick, madam, see what's making the natives restless!'
Melissande flung open the foyer doors and accosted the first running servant she recognised. 'Hamish! What in the name of Saint Snodgrass is going on?'
Hamish was too panicked to be polite. 'Bloody hell, miss! Haven't you heard? There's a bloody great fire- breathing dragon on the loose! It's already killed people down in the city and now it's flying over the palace!'
She stepped back, shut the doors on all the fleeing servants and turned to Reg and Markham. Instead of gibbering incoherently, she felt unnaturally calm. It's already killed people down in the city. 'Hamish says there's a fire-breathing dragon flying over the palace.'
'He's right,' said Markham, staring at the foyer's skylight. 'There is.' She looked up.
On the other side of the skylight's glass, floating lazily on an updraft like an enormous crimson and emerald striped seagull — with teeth and talons — was Lional's dragon. As they watched, it opened its massive jaws and belched a fearsome plume of fire.
She felt her heart shrivel to ash. It's already killed people down in the city.
'Come on,' said Reg grimly. 'Let's go. We have to stop that damned thing before it really gets started.'
Melissande nodded. For once she wasn't inclined to argue. When Gerald eventually roused from his exhausted, nightmare-ridden stupor there was still no light in the cave. So he sat with his back to the wall and waited. There wasn't anything else to do. A few feet away in the dirt and the dark was Reg.
He didn't want to think about her. Reg was a bruised and bloody mark in his heart, an absence he was only just beginning to realise. Another failure he wasn't sure he could live with. She was dead, she was dead… and it was all his fault. Everything was his fault. All those people, hunted to a crisp or soaked in poison. The terror. The destruction. He pulled his knees to his aching chest and held on tight.
If only I'd been braver. If only I'd defied him. If only I'd never been born.
There was no food or drink in the cold dark cave. If Lional changed his mind about wanting more dragons or lost what little was left of his sanity and forgot about him, which seemed more likely, then he was doomed to die
