“Gerald!” Bibbie shouted, pointing skywards. “Gerald, look! ”
Everyone on the parade ground and the dais was looking and pointing… and suddenly the sky had too many airships in it.
“It’s the UMN!” cried Attaby. “God be praised! We’re saved!”
Abandoning incantation the other Gerald turned on him, ferocious. “D’you think so, you tosser?”
A single word, a clenched fist, and Ottosland’s shadbolted Prime Minister dropped dead.
Pandemonium on the dais. Pandemonium in the sky. The other Gerald’s armed airships started shooting at the green and black UMN airships-and the city of Ott erupted in noise and fire.
“Gerald!” screamed Bibbie, reaching for him. “Gerald, what are we going to do?”
The other Gerald wrenched his arm free and shoved her aside. “Shut up, you silly bitch,” he snarled. “I’m going to finish what I started! Once I’ve harnessed these sheep’s potentias I’ll burn those airships with a look.”
Holding his breath, heart racing, Gerald stepped back. Any moment now, any moment… the ether was shuddering again, the jiggered shadbolt incant burgeoning. Despite the interruption the other Gerald hadn’t noticed. It was all coming together-the plan was going to work Hold on, Monk-hold on, mate-we’re nearly home- hold on The shadbolt incant ignited just as the amplified etheretic wave struck home, enveloping the other Gerald in a giant thaumic maelstrom. Bibbie shrieked, the other wizards on the dais echoed her surprise, and Gerald flung up his arms against the tremendous flash of heat and light. Moments later the ether cleared, and his vision cleared with it. Dizzy with relief, he lowered his arms.
The other Gerald, unshadbolted, backhanded him across the face. “Are you a moron? You’re a moron! Did you think I wouldn’t know? Did you think I wouldn’t feel you piss-assing about with my incant? What-you thought you could touch me? Me? The greatest wizard ever born?”
Choking, Gerald pushed himself off the dais railing. His face was on fire. Over the other Gerald’s shoulder he could see Bibbie, avid for revenge. He could see the shadbolted government and its servants, broken by Attaby’s death. The air stank of discharged thaumics and burning airships. Battle raged over their heads, gunfire and screaming. The air boomed and blossomed with scalding heat and raging sound. Too soon to tell where victory would belong. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of Monk, up on his elbows. Released from the shadbolt’s punishment, at least for now. The other Reg had hopped down beside him, her long beak still bound with ribbon the color of blood.
I want my Reg. The real Reg. Bloody hell, woman, where are you?
Eyes stinging, he looked again at this world’s terrible Gerald. “Did you think I wouldn’t try to stop you?”
“And did you think, Professor, that I’d ever give you the chance?” Grinning, gloating, the other Gerald snapped his fingers. “Didn’t you learn anything from what happened in New Ottosland? Didn’t drinking wine with Lional put you off swallowing things for life? ”
Swallowing things? Swallowing things? What the hell was he-and then he understood. The crystal.
Pain knocked him to his knees.
The other Gerald was laughing, no, giggling with his glee. “I can’t believe you fell for it, Gerald. Bloody hell, you are so soft. You were so worried about saving Monk and Melissande and whoever that you forgot to save yourself. I swear, I could weep for you. Thank God I found those grimoires. When I think I could be you right now? I swear, I could vomit for a week.” Smile vanishing, he clenched his fist. “ Get up. ”
Powerless, he stood.
“Now kill our good friend Monk, Gerald, because he’s been a naughty boy. Go on. Not all of the hexes in that crystal were for my use, you know. You’ve got what you need to squish him like a flea. So come on. Squish him. I want to see him bleed.”
The taint in his potentia stirred. He could feel the shadbolt incant waking, over-riding his own proof against compulsion. Its shadow crawled before his eyes, blotting out the fitful sunlight and plunging him into a nightmare dark. Growing dim, the sound of airships fighting overhead. Growing distant, the sight of Monk at his feet. Growing stronger, the urge to obey.
The other Gerald slapped him again, more kindly this time. “Well? What are you waiting for? I’ve given you an order. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve got a bit of a crisis on our hands. Gonegal and his UMN busybodies, trying to take the country from me. From us. We’re going to run things together, Gerald. I can’t do any of this without you. So kill the bastard, would you? He’s standing in our way.”
Dreamily he nodded. Dreamily he turned. Monk Markham groveled at his feet, eyes filled with terror. The bird was crouched beside him, her eyes hot with rage. Bloody Reg. Tie her beak with red ribbon and she’d still poke it where it wasn’t wanted. He frowned. Reg.
Don’t I know something about Reg?
Never mind. It’d keep. Right now he had to kill Markham. Behind him, Bibbie was bleating something. The other Gerald-the better Gerald-silenced her with a slap. Bloody Markham shoved himself onto his knees.
“Gerald-for pity’s sake- fight it!” he shouted. “Fight him. This isn’t you, mate. If you do this-God, if you do this-”
“Put a sock in it, Monk,” he said, and raised his fist.
Monk went down screaming. The air itself was screaming. But-no, no, actually that was an airship of the United Magical Nations. Engulfed in flames, it plummeted blazing towards the ground. And that would likely be his problem too-but not yet. Not until meddling Monk Markham was finally taken care of.
“That’s it!” said the other Gerald, wildly encouraging. “Finish him, sunshine. We don’t need him any more.”
No, they didn’t, did they? It was time for Monk to go.
“Goodbye, Monk,” he said quietly. “Don’t fight it. Just let it happen. It won’t hurt as much that way.”
For the second time he raised his fist. Clenched it tighter-and simultaneously tightened the killing hex. Monk sucked in a deep breath, eyes wide with disbelief. His throat worked-it worked-and blood trickled from his eyes.
A shriek of outrage. A whirling comet of brown feathers. And then there were claws in his hair and hard wings beating about his head.
“Gerald Dunwoody, what the hell are you doing?”
Stunned, he staggered backwards. Monk dropped to the dais again. And then his attacker was yanked away. But-but-it was Reg.
“ Two of them?” said the other Gerald, his eyes narrowed. “How can there be two of them? Two of them is two too many! How did you get here? Which world are you from?”
This new Reg was suspended in midair, held fast by the other Gerald’s thaumaturgical fist. “How do you think, you manky pillock?” she said. “I was traveling in the portal with Gerald. When you yanked him out I caught his coat-tails, so to speak. And I’ve been in hiding, keeping an eye on him, ever since.”
“Is that so?” said the other Gerald, his eyes still narrow with dislike and suspicion. “I find it hard to believe.”
“Then how do you explain it?” the bird demanded. “You think I hitched a ride here on an interdimensional sprite? You opened a window between my world and yours and I flew right through it. So let that be a lesson to you. Next time stay in your own bloody backyard!”
“Actually,” said the other Gerald, smiling, “I think I’d rather let this be a lesson for you.”
Feather by feather, Reg burst into flame.
Monk was screaming again, not in pain but in horror. The other bird with the red ribbon beak was flapping and flailing in avian distress. The other Gerald was laughing. In the blue crowded sky airships burned in hot, bright sympathy.
Reg… Reg… Reg…
Gerald felt something inside him twist-and tear-and break. Felt his rogue potentia overtake him like a tidal wave come to shore. It obliterated whatever hold the other Gerald had upon him. Obliterated too any sense of decency or restraint. Cast him free of all restrictions and let fury off its leash. Unleashed instinct with it, and a wild, wailing grief.
Reg.
Throwing his head back he screamed to the fiery sky.
“Draconi! Draconi! Draconi revenanto!”
