On the first carpet, Daggar was silent.
“Are you sulking?” Zelora demanded.
“Why would I be sulking?”
“You’re jealous,” she accused.
“Me? Jealous of a badly carved house brick? I think not.”
“My husband means nothing to me!”
“Hah,” he said bitterly. “That’s why you’ve been so casual about getting him back, ey?”
“I have been trying to trace him for thirteen years!” Zelora exclaimed. “I want revenge on the man who abandoned me for no good reason.”
Daggar perked up slightly. “Is a wife’s revenge anything like the punishment for kissing an executive mercenary without her permission?”
“Much worse,” promised Zelora.
Daggar cheered up a bit.
The carpets swooped and dove towards an empty space in the middle of the Skullcaps. Suddenly they were inside the Grand Hidden Mountain. Momentarily confused, the carpets shuddered to a stop. A few gnomes with ladders came forward to help the visitors off their mounts.
“Why does the Hidden Army employ so many gnomes?” asked Kassa.
“Gnomes are suitably anti-social,” said Zelora ominously. Zelora said most things ominously.
“The Leader wants to see you,” said one gnome, grinning maliciously.
“Oo er,” said the other gnome. “What you been up to, then? Eh, eh?”
“Anti-social,” said Kassa grimly. “I can see why.”
The gnomes led them to the library, where the Leader was to be found. Zelora peered into the musty room. “He’s with someone else,” she reported. “I think they’re playing chess or something. We wouldn’t want to disturb…”
“Leader says you’re to go roight in,” said one of the gnomes cheerfully. “You an’ the scruffy one an’ the pirate lady.” He doffed his cap to Kassa. “How do, madam.” Then he grinned toothlessly at the bound Aragon. “Said ’e was to be put in solitarrarry confineyment, eh, eh, eh?”
Aragon was dragged away with great dignity, and almost no kicking.
One of the gnomes knocked on the door and announced them in a very loud voice. “H’introducing ’er deputy leadership, Commander Zelora Footcrusher, de profit-scoundrel Daggar h’of Dreadnought h’and ’er piraticalness Mistress Kassa Daggersharp.” He coughed grandly. “You can go in now.”
The Hidden Leader was not the first thing they noticed about the room. He blended in so expertly with the walls that they barely saw him at all. But they did see his large companion, who flexed his large fingers as he studied the gameboard before him.
Daggar froze, sweat beading on his forehead. It was Leonardes of Skullcap.
The large Master of Profit did not pay any attention to the intruders. “Your turn, Kenneth,” he said to the Hidden Leader.
The Leader glanced up at Zelora. “I hear you have come across some treasure, Footcrusher.”
Zelora snapped to attention. “The location is still unknown, Hidden One. But we are in the process of locating it.”
“The silver,” said Kassa in a clear sharp voice, “when we find it, belongs to me.”
“Indeed,” said the Hidden Leader, amused.
“However, if you allow us to use the resources of K Division, we shall allow the Hidden Army a portion of the spoils,” Kassa continued smoothly.
“How generous,” said the Hidden Leader thoughtfully. “Yes, I believe we can do business. There is a gathering tonight which you shall all attend. Tomorrow you may return to the K division caves and resume your treasure hunting. I do not expect failure.”
“Neither do I, Hidden One,” said Kassa politely, trying to calculate how many shares of this silver she’d promised away so far. If the bounty consisted of one silver cake fork, she was going to be in trouble.
The Hidden Leader turned back to his game. “My turn, did you say, Leo?” He peered thoughtfully at the board. “Our wise women wish to have words with you, Mistress Daggersharp,” he added as his guests tactfully withdrew.
“As you wish,” replied Kassa, turning towards the door.
Daggar was the last of the three to leave, and as he sidled out he heard the menacing tones of Leonardes of Skullcap. “It is only a few days until full moon, Daggar. Make the most of them.”
Outside, Kassa glared at Daggar. “What was that about?”
“Nothing, no one, don’t know what you’re talking about,” gabbled Daggar. “I need a drink.”
“Show us to our quarters,” Zelora commanded a gnome.
As they were led away, the Hidden Executive Leader of the Hidden Army turned his attention to the gameboard before him. He tapped a finger thoughtfully against his chin. “I think it was Mistress Scarlett, in the Billiards Room, with the Pickaxe Handle…”
The Lady Emperor was exploring her new Palace again. The discovery of the portrait parlour had whetted Talle’s appetite for exploration, and she felt that she deserved a little leisure time now. With a PR urchin organising her public image, Aragon Silversword hunting down Kassa Daggersharp and Reed Cooper hunting down Aragon Silversword, the Splashdance silver would soon be within her control and all would be well.
On the thirty-seventh floor, she discovered the menagerie. Strange and unusual creatures made funny noises at her from within their gilded cages. Talle saw four giant spiders, several monkeybirds with gold plumage, a talking tree, six sapient water lilies and a turf-accountant.
Then there was the cage at the end of the room which held a very old woman with stringy hair who peered intently at a crystal ball.
Lady Talle tapped lightly on the cage. “Who are you?”
“Shaddup,” said the old woman.
“I am the Emperor of Mocklore!” declared Lady Talle, shocked by this insolence. “I could have you executed.”
“I’m in a cage, lady, even the cleaning urchins could get me executed,” muttered the old woman. “Now shove orf. I’m watchin’ the Smug Family. Damien’s about to tell Tallulah that her boyfriend Beelzibuck isn’t really a warlock.” She peered at the crystal ball again. “Bugger. Episode’s over. I’ll have to wait till tomorrow to find out what Jemima’s life-threatening disease is. She’s an elf by her second marriage, you know, and elves have a different disease for ev’ry day of the moon.” She packed away the crystal ball and turned to her visitor. “Now whaddaya want?”
“A great more respect from you, for a start,” commanded Lady Talle imperiously.
The old woman cackled. “Well, if you want that you’ll have to go somewhere else, duckie. I’m a witch. We don’t do respect.”
“Can you see the future in that crystal?” asked Lady Talle, curious enough to drop her demanding tone.
“Heh, what use is the future?” said the witch dismissively. “Not here yet, is it, so it can’t be up to much. Nah, the present’s the thing to see. My li’l crystal is tuned to this field out in the middle of nowhere, right, and every day at half past five hours past noon these mummers an’ minstrels all get together to do the Smug Family, right? There’s Dave and Sharletta, an’ their boys Damien and Hemlock, okay, and the girls next door, that’s Lucrezia an’ Tallulah and Mephistophelisa, an’ then there’s all the fey folk at the Healery, an’ they all have perfect lives except for the occasional natural disaster. They’ve had two earthquakes this month, you know, and five weddings and twelve dead monks! It’s just like real life.”
“But can you see other things?” persisted Lady Talle. “Real things. Where people are, what they are doing.”
“I don’t know any real people,” said the old, stringy witch in a bemused voice. “Just the Smug Family.”
“Go on,” said Summer Songstrel. “You know you want to.”
“I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t rather do than visit some old gaggle of women,” said Kassa stubbornly.
“How are you going to figure out how to be a witch if you don’t meet other witches?” demanded the sprite, who had appeared uninvited in the chamber Kassa had been provided wit
h.
Kassa glared icily. “I know all I need to know about being a witch.”
“You admitted it!” cried Summer Songstrel in triumph. “Ha!”
“I know that I am not, never have been, and never will want to be one!” Kassa announced. “Please go away.”
“It helped you escape the icesprites, didn’t it?”
Kassa didn’t say anything for a moment. “It won’t happen again.”
“Why not?” insisted the persistent sprite.
“Because I don’t want it to happen!”
“Oh, rather be a pirate, would you?”
“Those aren’t the only choices in life, you know.”
“They’re the only two you’ll ever be offered, ladybird.”
Against her better judgement, Kassa went to see the wise women.
The wise women of Hidden Mountain were a curious breed, renowned for their ability to bake fruitcakes, knit tea cozies and Know the Unknown. “Oooh, look,” one of them squealed when Kassa was announced. “It’s Nellisand’s girl. Come here, child, I knew you when you were knee high to a ship’s anchor.”
“Ooh, it is, it is,” agreed the others. “No doubt about it, absolutely, it’s our Nellisand’s little girl, and her a witch too, wouldn’t she be proud? Oh, she would, she would.”
One particularly wise woman took Kassa by the arm. “Just ignore this gaggle, dearie, you don’t want to be swapping gossip and fruitcake with us all day. You go in and see Maitzi O, she’s been waiting for you.”
That set the gaggle off good and proper. “Oh, my, yes, Maitzi O, she’ll know what to do, she’s terribly good at this sort of thing, you can’t do better than consulting Maitzi Orackle…”
Kassa left in a hurry, clattering down a flight of rocky steps. She emerged in a small cave draped with silken curtains and scented smoke. “Come in, sit down, I’ll be with you in a minute,” called a voice. “I’m just trying to pick up today’s installment of the Smug Family.”
A very old, very wrinkled gnome woman appeared, carrying a large crystal ball under one arm. “I missed the episode, see, because I was having a visitation of imps, and you’ve got to clean up after them right away or the smell lingers. I’m trying to tune this to half an hour ago. Ah, there we are.” She put down the crystal. “I’ll watch that later. Now, who are you?”
“Don’t you know?” inquired Kassa. “Everyone else seems to.”
The gnome woman peered at her, and then grunted. “Oh. You’re the one whose mother ran off with that no-good pirate.”
“My mother was a pirate herself,” Kassa said indignantly.
“Second career,” snapped the gnome woman. “I remember. Called herself Black Nell, as if Nellisand wasn’t good enough for her. Drove her mother to distraction. I remember. Dyeing her hair,” she added disapprovingly. “So now you come crawling to me, wanting to be a witch, eh?”
“I don’t crawl to anyone,” flared Kassa. “You summoned me. I don’t want to be a witch. I don’t even like magic!”
“Tough cookies,” crowed the old gnome woman. “Destiny is destiny, and yours is to zap things. Be grateful.”
“I’m an entertainer,” said Kassa haughtily. “And possibly a pirate…”
“You’re a witch, and you know it. Just like me.”
Kassa gave in. “But you’re so…” she said helplessly. “And I’m…”
The gnome woman cackled. “You don’t have to be a withered old crone to practice witchcraft, girl. It just helps. I suppose you want that sword of yours back?”
Kassa leaned forward, intrigued. “You can do that?”
“I’m not going to,” snorted Maitzi Orackle, the oldest and wisest of wise women. “You are.”
Kassa was doubtful. “Don’t I need some kind of certificate?”
“Would it make you feel better?”
“Not really.”
“Then get on with it.” The old wise woman deliberately turned her back and started watching the Smug Family.
Kassa closed her eyes. After a few minutes, she realised she had absolutely no idea where to start.
There was a throat-clearing sound from the direction of Maitzi O. “Sing if you must,” she suggested grudgingly.
Songwitch, Kassa remembered.
Ten minutes later, the song exploded out of the mountain, informing the world that Kassa Daggersharp wanted her sword back. Never underestimate the speed of song.
Still caked with mud and swamp-slime, Reed Cooper found the Lady Emperor in the menagerie, arguing with a scruffy old woman in a cage.
“Why can’t you show me Kassa Daggersharp?” Talle was demanding.
“Maybe it’s none of your business,” chortled the old woman, making faces through the bars of her cage.
“Now listen to me, old crone…”
“My Lady Emperor,” gasped Reed Cooper.
Talle snapped her head towards him. “Back so soon? And without Aragon Silversword, I see.”
“We were captured by firebrands,” said the young pirate dismally. “They separated us. I couldn’t find him again…he could be anywhere in the Skullcaps.”
“My bauble?” inquired the Lady Emperor dangerously.
“It followed him,” said Reed, still breathing quickly from his climb up thirty flights of stairs. “As you commanded…”
“You are a fool. What of Mistress Daggersharp? The gargoyle? Have you nothing to show for your effort?”
“I have information that Kassa is working with the Hidden Army,” Reed said quickly. “A cousin of hers is with them now.”
“The Hidden Army?” said Lady Talle, intrigued.
“With the assistance of the executive mercenaries she cannot help but find the silver!” Reed blurted.
Talle laughed in a mocking voice. She reached out and drew the prime sword of Bigbeard Daggersharp from the scabbard on Reed’s back. “Without this? I don’t think so. My PR urchin is working to secure the hearts and confidence of the city, and then the Empire. The tributes will come pouring in from the Lordlings and I will have no particular need of Mistress Daggersharp’s treasure trove. She may have the means to decipher whatever is written on this sword, but I have the sword itself. I may not find the silver, but neither will she.”
The Lady Emperor laughed again. It was a chilling sound, and Reed Cooper was glad he was supposed to be on her side.
Suddenly the air around the sword opened up. A brief snatch of song filled the space around them, and the sword was pulled through reality towards its rightful owner.
The old witch in the cage cackled hysterically.
Lady Talle’s mouth became a very thin line. “Tune that damn crystal of yours to Aragon Silversword,” she ordered. “Do it, or I will have you flogged.”
The old witch shrugged and handed over the crystal. It showed an image of Aragon sitting on a stone bench, a white bandage on his arm and a bored expression on his face.
“I will speak to him,” declared the Lady Emperor.
The old witch twiddled a knob on the underside of the crystal.
“Silversword,” barked the Lady Emperor.
He glanced up, seemingly unsurprised at this method of communication. “Hello, Talle. How are you?”
“I presume you are still on my side,” she hissed.
“Presume nothing,” said Aragon blandly. “Only trust me.”
“Allow the girl to lead you to the Splashdance silver,” Lady Talle commanded in a shaky voice. “Once she has done so, kill her and bring the treasure to me.”
Aragon’s face did not change. “It will be a pleasure,” he said coldly, settling back against the stone bench. Images in his mind of tangled dark red hair and deep golden eyes were swiftly banished in favour of wealthy, silver ambition.
“Not bad for a beginner,” grunted Maitzi Orackle. “Well done.”
“Um,” said Kassa. “Should I fetch a doctor?”
“I’m a witch, I don’t need no doctor!” snapped the wisest of wise women. “Now, if we can just
figure a way to get this sword out of my arm—and out of the wall—we’ll be in business.”
12
Splashdown
The Lady Emperor came before the crowd in the market square, smiling silkily. “My dear people,” she pronounced with an attractive pout. “I have given bread to the poor and tax exemptions to the rich. I have installed new theatres, paved roads and visited the sick. What would you have me give to you next?”
One boy, too small even to be classified as an urchin, was pushed to the front of the crowd. He wiped his nose on his hand. “Please, miss.”
Lady Talle leaned forward, and exactly half of the crowd craned to see down the front of her clinging gown. “What would you ask of me, my young soldier?”
“Please miss,” sniffled the repulsive child. “Milk, miss.”
“Milk,” cried Lady Talle in a delighted voice. “Of course. Milk for the children! Free milk for all the children!”
Everyone cheered, except the milk-merchants.
“Chocolate milk!” added the boy hurriedly. “Wif bendy straws! An’ sprinkles!” He was hauled away by an anxious parent. “An’ doughnuts,” his thin, reedy voice continued, fading into the distance. “An’ a big truck! An’ humorous hieroglyphs! An’ biscuits an’ cakes an’ a thousand jellybaby sandwidges…”
Lady Talle moved away from the crowd with a smooth expression of satisfaction. She stepped into her velvety carriage and was drawn away towards the palace. “It is not enough, boy,” she said through her soft smile.
Griffin looked worriedly confident. “Um,” he said.
“What good is it if the news-minstrels inform the Lordlings that the peasants are happy? I need the nobles to be charmed, which means they must come here. Get them here, Griffin, to see me. To be stunned and overwhelmed by the gracious power of their new Emperor. Then let them pour their loyalty before me. Bring them to me, Griffin.”
“Of course, my Lady Emperor,” said Griffin with a bright smile. “Nothing could be less horribly difficult.”
Mocklore Box Set (Mocklore Chronicles) Page 12