by SJB Gilmour
James nodded. ‘It’s a special order for some goat herders in Latvia,’ he explained. ‘They’re having a problem with feral mortal wolves.’
Demeter smiled again and waved one holy hand at the rows of seedlings. A bright, warm ray of light bathed them for several moments and the seedlings wriggled and sprouted new leaves and shoots, nearly tripling in size.
James gazed in wonder at the crop and then hung his head again in respect to his goddess. ‘My Mistress, wherever you send me, I’ll go. Whatever task you set me, I’ll do. Any burden you place upon me, I’ll carry.’
‘Then it is done,’ Demeter said. ‘Go, my son and know that though I have placed a slight curse upon you for this short time, you will forever carry my blessing!’
And then She was gone.
‘Whoa,’ Sarah breathed. ‘Cool!’
‘Yeah!’ echoed Mel.
Angela nodded. Then to James, she said, ‘Can we go somewhere to talk?’
Master Isaacs chuckled. ‘Of course. Come with me.’ He promptly marched out of the hothouse and down the corridor to a large familiar-looking elevator. He gave the elevator door a peremptory kick and it slid open. He stomped inside and waited impatiently for the others to join him. They rushed inside and just managed to squeeze in when the door slammed shut. Inside was a small stand with another glass bowl. This one was full of tiny silver beans.
‘Take me to my office!’ Master Isaacs barked at the elevator. ‘And no messing about!’ He put a handful of the beans into the elevator’s mouth and turned to his cousin. ‘I swear, Angela, these Ottispuschenshuffen Brothers’ elevators are fantastic, but this one has the most incredible temper.’
‘And you don’t?’ she observed dryly.
‘It’s not a temper. It’s a disorder.’
Angela raised one eyebrow. ‘Oh? What particular disorder are you afflicted with, cousin? Obsessive compulsive disorder perhaps?’
James gave a snort. ‘Of course not. There’s nothing disorderly about being obsessive compulsive. I enjoy it. Useful too, it is. No, I occasionally come down with acute fedupwithit disorder. All us geniuses have it.’
The elevator door opened suddenly to reveal a large, lushly appointed office with dozens of large leather couches and antique oak tables. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with groaning bookshelves and a large assortment of plants in pots were scattered among the furniture.
‘Make yourselves comfortable,’ Master Isaacs told them. ‘I’ll go and clean up and then we can get down to business.’ He ushered them out of the elevator. When they had all made their way into his office, he stepped back into the elevator. ‘Bathroom!’ he barked and the door slid shut.
While he was gone and the others sat patiently on the leather couches, Sarah wandered around the strange Master of Flora’s office. She glanced at a few of the tomes on the shelves. She saw titles like Ginsing, Ginsung and Ginsang - Three Essential Enchanted Roots and there was Cooking with Wolfsbane - More than Three Thousand Contra-banned Concoctions! There was also an enormous tome titled Enchanted Flora, the Flora Master’s Handbook, by James William Isaacs.
Sarah reached for it. Instead of behaving in the way she had seen other tomes do, this one flew high up in the air above her head.
‘Oh no, you don’t!’ the tome admonished her. ‘I’m for Masters only. You’re just a novice, so there’s no way you’re getting your grubby little paws on me just yet!’
‘Sorry,’ Sarah replied defensively. ‘I was only curious. There’s no need to be rude!’
The tome began to retort when the office door flew open and Master Isaacs strode in. He was freshly bathed, shaved and dressed snappily in an un-dyed cotton suit. He saw the tome in the air and clicked his fingers at it.
‘Get back on your shelf!’ he barked at the tome. ‘Who said you’re allowed to just float around like that?’
‘She went for me!’ the tome protested. ‘I was just staying out of reach!’
‘Silence!’ Isaacs thundered, his face going purple. ‘I didn’t write you to be insolent!’
The tome hurried back to its spot on the shelf in silence. Master Isaacs turned to Sarah. She gulped nervously.
‘Now,’ he asked, much more reasonably, and sat down on one of the couches. ‘How much trouble are we going to get ourselves into?’
Chapter Twelve
Benjamin crouched with his head resting on his paws. He looked at Angela’s cousin and wagged his tail, making a light thumping noise on the floor. The bald little man was sitting quite comfortably beside Robert and Roberta. Nathan was coiled up beside Mel, while Robert and Roberta both curled up on an enormous leather couch, which didn’t look quite so enormous with two big Brown Coats curled up on it. Sarah sat on another couch next to Angela.
‘So that’s it then,’ James said finally after Benjamin and Angela had explained everything. ‘If the Castlerigg caretakers want me in on this, then there’s a prophecy at work. No doubt about it.’
Benjamin snorted. ‘There’s about three that I know of that directly involve us,’ he agreed.
James nodded with a scowl. ‘That’s the annoying thing about prophecies,’ he muttered. ‘There’s always so many of the chocolating things…’ He broke off, looking startled. Then he groaned and glanced around the room.
‘Oh, great,’ he muttered. ‘I wondered what kind of curse She was talking about. Which one of you persuaded my own goddess to put a chocolatus curse on me?’
‘I did,’ Roberta told him proudly. She wagged her tail, hitting Robert on the snout repeatedly. He didn’t seem to mind.
James stared at her for a moment. Then, instead of losing his temper, he shrugged. ‘Fair enough I suppose. You’re this Golden Mane’s guardian so it makes sense you’d want to protect her from bad influences like me.’
Benjamin seemed surprised. ‘You’re taking it quite well,’ he complimented the odd Master of Botany.
James shrugged. ‘She’s done worse to me over the years,’ he admitted. ‘Besides, Demeter wouldn’t do me any real harm.’ He looked around at them for another moment. ‘Would you all mind if I tested it? Just to see how much kick Her curse carries?’
Roberta wagged her tail even more enthusiastically. ‘Go ahead. Knock yourself out.’
James grinned wickedly then began to try to swear. ‘Chocko chocking chocolate chock! My chocking chock-chock’s chocking chocked!’
While Sarah and Mel burst into gales of laughter, the eccentric Master Botanist stormed about his office, waving his hands in the air. Every time he tried to produce any kind of profanity, it came out as some sort of variation of the word ‘chocolate’. After a few moments, he stopped and shook his head in defeat to Roberta.
‘Well done,’ he told her. ‘She’s a beauty. What else does it cover?’
‘No drugs and no girls,’ Roberta told him with a smug smile.
Now James did seem upset. ‘Oh, now that’s just cruel,’ he complained. Then to test it, he went to his desk and withdrew a small bottle of rum. He took a long swig. At first, nothing happened then he gave a startled cry and sneezed a pineapple out of his nose. His nose promptly began to bleed profusely.
‘Ahh, chock me!’ he groaned. ‘That chocking well hurts like chocolate!’ He wiped his nose and shoved a tissue up his nostril to stop the bleeding. ‘Okay,’ he muttered ‘dat’s dow good. What aboud da girl ding?’ He marched over to the door and yanked it open. ‘Kylie!’ he yelled.
In a flash, a very pretty quickling appeared. Perhaps it was because of the weather, or perhaps it was what she was expected to wear at the office, but the dress this quickling was wearing didn’t leave much to the imagination.
The quickling gave a few brief chirps. Seeing James’ expression, she began to talk more slowly for the benefit of the guests in the room.
‘Yes Master?’ she enquired. Sarah got the immediate impression that James and this quickling were more than just boss and secretary.
James smiled at her and pulled the tissues out o
f his nose so that he could talk normally. ‘Just see that we’re not disturbed will you?’
The quickling looked concerned. ‘Are you alright, Master?’ she asked.
James smiled. ‘Nothing I can’t handle, dear. But have Minnie keep an ear on this office could you? And see we’re not disturbed. My cousin and her friends and I have a few things to discuss. I’m sure you understand. Family stuff.’
Kylie appeared a little disappointed but with a very quick glance around the room, she changed her expression to one a little more professional. ‘Certainly, Master Isaacs,’ she said and bowed and turned to leave.
‘That’s a good girl,’ James told her and gave her a familiar pat on the bottom. The door swung shut just as James gave a startled gasp. He gazed at the palms of his hands. Green grass sprouts spurted up out of his skin. In seconds, his hands were completely covered in grass.
‘Oh my chocking chocolate!’ he muttered. Then he shook his hands vigorously, sending grass clippings everywhere. He then rubbed and clapped his hands together until they were once more pink and grass-free. Laughing to himself, he turned to Roberta.
‘Satisfied?’ he asked her once everyone had stopped laughing.
‘Perfectly,’ she chortled, wagging her tail.
‘Okay,’ James muttered. ‘Now we’ve sorted that out, let’s get back to these chocking prophecies. It’s hard to keep them all straight in your head.’ He got up and crossed over to a large blackboard.
‘Okay, what have we got?’ he muttered and began listing prophecies. ‘There’s The Werenmesse, you can’t ignore that one, not with the first female Golden Mane ever whelped sitting right here in my own chocking office - even if she hasn’t got the foggiest of what the chock’s going on.’
What’s the Werenmesse? Sarah asked the ever-present Wolfenvald within her mind.
‘There are wolves among us who believe one day, one wolf will come who stands above all others. All packs of all orders will be united at her howl.’
Her? Are you talking about me?
Wolfenvald’s tone was amused. ‘There are some who hope it may be you, Golden Mane. There are others who are convinced it is you. The future of a wolf can never truly be predicted. She must find her own range.’
Mel was looking at her quizzically. ‘More voices in your head, you psycho bogan?’
‘Shuttup, goth,’ Sarah told her with a grin. Then she told the others what Wolfenvald had just told her.
James nodded. ‘Rufus mentioned something like that once. There’s also Cassandra’s helpful little input.’ He managed to make it sound as if Cassandra’s prophecy was anything but helpful. ‘There’s whatever the spirits of Castlerigg have seen, and you can bet your bottom gnang that Rufus going missing or being trapped or whatever did have something to do with The Gate. He was always up to his shaggy ears in that stuff.’ He nodded at Nathan. ‘I’ll go through my records. I was lecturing at The Guild Botanical Board at The Nonagon when he vanished.’
‘What’s a gnang?’ asked Sarah.
James looked at her in amazement. Then he turned to Roberta and Robert. ‘I can’t believe you raised her without even explaining the rudiments of our currency!’ he admonished the now sheepish-looking pair. He turned to Sarah. ‘Sarah, it’s very simple. Here on Earth, we deal mostly in three currencies. There’s the Halfling gnang, which is used by elves, quicklings, gnomes and dwarves. There’s the Goblin pexo and the Giantkind hammer. The values of these currencies fluctuate with the market. The local exchange on Earth charges extra because we’re so far away from the financial sectors on other planets, but there’s no tax, so it sort of evens out.
‘At the moment, the gnang buys about three and a half hammers and point six of a pexo. In face-painter terms, one gnang is worth about two Aussie dollars.’
‘Face-painter?’ Sarah asked with a giggle.
James nodded. ‘Mortals,’ he said with a dismissive wave. ‘Only race in the universe so chocolating stupid and self-conscious that they willing apply paint to their faces to try to look more beautiful.’ He shook his head in mock confusion. ‘All it does is make ‘em look like clowns.’ He sighed again and then looked back at Sarah. ‘Okay, because Earth is pretty much a free state, there are any number of unregulated financial institutions within the enchanted community here. There’s the Guild Exchange of course, but not many of us use it. Most sorcerers I know stick with the Witch Bank on the 700th floor of Fort Knox in Virginia, America. Make sense?’
Sarah nodded.
‘Good. Now, back to your little quest. I’d say you’re at odds with The Guild. Whatever you’re out to achieve, Marzdane’s going to try to stop you. Since he’s been in control of the Guild, they’ve been nothing but a right royal pain in the chocky. Normally, they couldn’t agree on what to eat for lunch. Now all of a sudden, they’re voting unanimously? It’s fishy.’ He turned to Angela. ‘He was always a petty little pipsqueak, Angela. Why on Earth did you marry him?’
Angela shrugged hopelessly. ‘I was young and foolish, I guess,’ she said. ‘He was so handsome and charming. But after a century or two, I realised what his real nature was like.’ She chewed her lip ruefully. ‘Believe me, under that good-looking exterior is a very ugly man. He’s a vindictive, petty, cowardly bully.’
James shook his head in disgust. ‘And now he’s suddenly turned from a snivelling little rat into a great big lion. People like him don’t change so drastically overnight. Someone else is behind this.’
‘That’s why I’m glad we came to see you,’ Benjamin pressed.
‘You know,’ James told them seriously, ‘I know a few guys who know a few guys. A good quickling assassin could do the world a favour by getting rid of Marzdane.’
Angela disagreed. ‘Let’s not get involved in outright murder, cousin. I’m sure Marzdane will get his just desserts soon enough. Besides, the ex-spouse is always the first suspect. I’d rather not be hauled in for questioning.’
‘All jokes aside, Isaacs,’ Benjamin interrupted, ‘You’ve always had your ear to the ground. You must have some idea about what Marzdane is up to.’ He wagged his tail briefly.
James shook his head. ‘That old crook’s motives will become clear soon enough,’ he assured them all. ‘It’s the link to Kevin that’s got me thinking.’
‘Someone’s obviously been able to get him to abandon his post as guardian,’ Angela asserted.
James shook his head. ‘I doubt it. Giants are stubborn chockers. Give a giant a job, and he’ll keep at it until he dies.’
‘Has anyone heard from Kevin?’ Roberta asked. ‘He might have been killed.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said James. He stood up and began pacing. ‘Giants are almost indestructible. They can be poisoned, but that only incapacitates them…’ He paused and his eyes went very wide for a moment. ‘The only stuff I know strong enough to do that is nutsmeg…’ He suddenly clicked his fingers together. ‘That’s it!’ he exclaimed.
‘What is, cousin?’ Angela asked him.
‘Five or six years ago, a new customer came and bought my entire crop of nutsmeg. Ten kilograms of the stuff. Nearly wiped me out. After that, I put a limit of one gram per customer, per year.’
‘What’s nutsmeg?’ Sarah asked politely.
‘It’s a spice like regular nutmeg,’ James answered, ‘only it’s about five times the size and more than a thousand times more potent. Takes a century to grow. It’s a wonderful hallucinogen. Makes you see all kinds of stuff. And, it’s the only anaesthetic powerful enough to knock out a giant.’
‘So that’s how Miranda got out from underneath the mountain,’ Angela surmised. ‘Someone used nutsmeg to knock out Kevin. He’s The Deposed One.’
James nodded. ‘Most likely. I told the Guild putting a mountain on top of her wouldn’t work.’ He turned to Benjamin. ‘You should have eaten her when you had the chance.’ He frowned at Angela. ‘Either that or you should’ve sliced her up the middle.’
‘It’s not Benjamin’s fault,’ A
ngela said defensively, ignoring Benjamin’s gesture that he could defend himself. ‘We did our job. We were told to deliver her alive for trial and that’s what we did. If the Guild wanted her dead, they should have given us different orders. The Guild thought mountain confinement would work the same way it did for Monkey.’
‘The Great Sage Monkey is a completely different animal, Angela,’ James argued. ‘It took ten thousand years under his mountain and the work of dozens of spirits, bodhisattvas and buddhas to get him to behave. Even after all that, he’s still a ragbag.’ He paused and considered it. ‘Can’t say I blame him either,’ he muttered. ‘I’d go on a bender too if I’d just got out from spending ten thousand chocking years under a chocking mountain! Anyway,’ he scoffed with a wave. ‘Miranda is pure evil. She can’t be rehabilitated and the Guild should have known that.’
A thought occurred to Sarah. ‘Um, excuse me,’ she interrupted, ‘but who came up with the idea in the first place?’
Angela shrugged. ‘I guess that was need-to-know information. I was just following orders. Do you remember James? You always seemed to know who was behind what.’
Master James sat back in thought. ‘You know, come to think of it, that’s a very good question. My memory’s not what it used to be. Excuse me a minute.’ He rushed to his bookshelf where he peered at the various tomes.
‘Here we go,’ he said, holding up a musty old tome. ‘My diary,’ he told them, and quickly thumbed through the old, yellowed pages until he came to an entry in the middle of the tome. He put one finger on a passage.
‘Listen to this,’ he told them. He let tome go. It floated in the air and began to quote.
‘So they caught Molotov just before that mad Benjamin McConnell could get his paws on her. Somehow they also managed to convince Angelina to show some restraint for once. Must have been a relief to one and all. I lost a pocketful of pexo to a Grey Coat who conned me into betting Angelina would have Miranda’s guts in a pile between her feet before The Guild could say boo.