by Dave Freer
“Take him down to dungeon anyway, and give him a bowl of water,” said Master Hargarthius. “He’ll get better in a day or two. And then you can broil me some bacon.”
So Tom did that. He even got to eat some bacon, but he fell asleep onto the table while Master Hargarthius was asking him questions. That would normally have been a very poor move, but this time he was left to sleep. Perhaps Master Hargarthius did not want to wait a day or two for him to recover from being a newt, without answers and without a famulus to do the housework.
Tom woke up several hours later, on his own straw pallet in his little room. He did wonder how he’d got there, as he was sure that old Grumptious hadn’t carried him, but he had at least had some sleep, full of delicious, if slightly odd, dreams. He wondered if it was worth just lying there and trying to slip back into them, but his bladder said that was a very poor idea. The garderobe in your dreams is always a bad thing, and using it, worse.
So he got up, and found that the world, or at least the magician’s tower, hadn’t miraculously got better while he was asleep. Still, he’d had a wonderful evening out, and met a fabulous girl, who had given him her summonsing spell. If he could just slip through the next day or two, when things quieted down, he’d give her a call. He was agonizing about what he’d say to her, and so barely noticed that there was someone in the hallway with him.
Until she cleared her throat. The scarlet hair gave his heart a momentary lift, until he realised that the color was right… but the woman was a lot older. And she was wearing an emerald green gown, not a laced leather bustier. Besides he recognised her from Borbungsburg castle. “I wouldn’t scream if I were you, cat. This is merely an illusion, and it would vanish, if you did. It’s quite hard and expensive for me to keep up, so you should appreciate it instead. I can only do this by assuming my ancient aspect, as Emerelda Tindrell, the Queen of Cats, and as such you’re one of my subjects. Not that I have found that cats pay the least attention to rank.”
Tom swallowed. “Uh. What do you want?” The hair color had joined certain things in his mind.
“To ask you a few questions. In my experience apprentices usually know precisely what their masters are up to, even if they pretend otherwise.”
Tom looked warily around. “I’m not the apprentice. I’m just the famulus. You should go away.” He looked at her hair. She noticed.
“Yes. It is the same color. And that’s why I am here.”
“Uhuh,” said Tom sweating afresh, but shaking his head. “No. I’m not telling you anything. Go away or I will scream.”
“She said to say hi, and that she thought you were cute,” said the witch, calmly.
“Oh. Look, I, um didn’t do anything.”
“Well, other than set fire to a bad influence’s trousers, a Goth club, and beat up several bouncers, no. Not to Alamaya anyway. She’s capable of reaching her own decisions and protecting herself, anyway. At least, there, she is. Here is different. That is why I took her there.”
“Well, uh, then she should stay there.” Then it sank in. “Alamaya? You mean…”
“Yes she’s my god-daughter. I was also her grandmother’s cousin. Younger cousin, of course,” she said with just a trace of haste.
“I won’t tell anyone. Not even Master Hargarthius. Just… keep her safe.”
A slight wry smile, twitched at the witch’s painted lips. “Hargarthius is a grumpy old curmudgeon, as inept as he is brilliant. He’s utterly self-centred, barely trained, but not stupid. He either has already worked it out, or he will do so. I thought I’d prevented anyone from finding her. Now, tell me, exactly why is he trying to find Alamaya?”
Tom blinked. “To rescue her, to take her back to Duke Karst, to her home in Borbungsburg of course.”
“Really? Nothing more. Nothing less?” asked the witch who was Queen of Cats.
“Uh.” Said Tom, he felt he’d said that a lot, in this conversation. “She’s not really kidnapped, is she?”
“More like escaped and hidden. People are trying to kill her,” said the witch in a tone that boded ill for those people when she caught up with them.
“It’s not Old Grumptious, I mean, Master Hargarthius. Um, you mean Duke Karst?” asked Tom.
“I doubt it. But someone is always trying to kill the heir to the throne. There are quite a few other candidates. The Borbungs spring to my mind, but there are others. There are always others.”
“Not Master Hargathius. All he ever said was about rescuing her.” Tom scratched his head. “He did say something about wondering why Duke Karst wants to find the poor cursed girl.”
“I want to talk to you about that curse,” said the witch.
“I didn’t do it… did I?” asked Tom. He’d done many, many things he knew nothing about. The skull of Mrs Drellson always knew it was his fault, anyway.
“It’s a family curse, cat. From long before you were born. It affected her grandmother, and her mother. In time, or at least if she has a child, it will affect her.”
“Oh. Well, can’t you uncurse her?” asked Tom.
“To do so I need to find out exactly what the curse was, what magical binders were used and just how it was done. To do that I need to question the one who put the curse on Alamaya’s grandmother, Queen Athena,” explained the witch.
“Master Hargarthius?” asked Tom, faint, but pursuing.
“No. Estethius,” she hissed, her hatred obvious.
“But he’s dead, dead, staked, burned, ashes tossed into the sea with every spell on them to stop necromancy. Mrs Drellson’s skull told me,” said Tom.
“Oh, his body is burned and gone,” agreed the witch. “But that wasn’t his brain that burned with it.”
Tom had, as younger cat, some experience with mouse brains. He could categorically state they did not live well out of the body. Perhaps it was different for humans, but Tom doubted it. He said so. Humans might not argue with their Queen, but Tom was still cat enough to do so almost automatically.
“I got it from the demon he used for the trick,” she explained. “It’s true.”
Tom was relieved. “Master Hargarthius said demons always lie.”
“He’s correct about that,” said the witch. “But if you think about it, that can be used to extract the truth from them. Estethius’s brain is in a jar awaiting transfer to a new body.”
“He’s been quite patient then, very unlike a magician,” said Tom. “His brain must have been there longer than the pickles in the pantry… uh, we haven’t been feeding that to the demon, have we?”
There was a stunned silence from the queen of cats. She shook her head. “I hope not. Esthetius was close enough to a demon, alive.”
“Nevermore,” said the raven suspiciously… And the illusion Tom had been talking to, vanished. The Raven landed on Tom’s shoulder, cocked its head, and leaned toward Tom. “Never. More!” it said insistently.
That was interrupted by an army at the gate, which tended to interrupt most things. They were knocking, but were ready to knock louder with a battering ram.
Master Hargarthius was less than pleased. The army had, however, several mages in tow to prevent it from being newtralized, which was, for the army, a good thing.
“What is going on down here?” demanded Master Hargarthius, from the battlements, as Tom scurried up with the arcane supplies he’d demanded.
“Open up. We have a writ here from the Prince Regent,” shouted the mailed officer who had been doing the pounding and was now readying his battering ram team.
“I’m coming down. There will be trouble about this,” said Master Hargarthius, crossly. “And I’ll talk to you alone. Or the basilisk will be released.”
“We have orders to search the premises. Various augurers and luminaries have come forward to claim you have the Princess Alamaya captive in your vile den.”
“Hmph.” said Master Hargarthius. “I will be glad to conduct you through my establishment. I would have thought Duke Karst had more intelligence tha
n to believe a load of incompetents and frauds.” He looked at the army, and the huddle of men in wizardly clothes. “And that means you in particular, Master Kolumnus. Hmph.”
“Who is he?” asked Tom as they made their way downstairs.
“Hmph. He is the Chief Wizard of the Royal Magical Council. A jumped up incompetent, determined to hold the rest of us down. Couldn’t find his own posterior with both hands and a map.”
Tom had seen the name in the editorial column of the Weekly Illuminati Age and Magical Advertiser. He did wonder if the problem was not just how to hold the map, but he had eventually learned not to ask at times like these.
They proceeded to the front door of the gateroom, despite Tom wondering if the back door near the midden might not have been a better idea. When Master Hargarthius sent him to open it, and stood at the far door himself, Tom was sure he was right.
He was even more sure of it when the soldiers, followed by Master Kolumnus barreled into the room and grabbed him, and Master Hargarthius… nimbly stepped out of the other door. And a heavy portcullis clanked down sealing off the doorway. Then with a grinding slowness a slab of rock slid down to seal off the outer door.
Seeing he was going to be crushed again, Tom decided to give the men in armor holding him some company, in the shape of some mice inside their armor.
It did make them let go of him, not that that did him much good.
The royal mage pointed his staff at the inner portcullis. “I wouldn’t do that,” said Master Hargarthius’s voice.
“We’re on Royal business, Hargathius. Open the door or I’ll blast it down,” said Master Kolumnus.
“Very unwise, as the roof will then fall in,” shouted Master Hargarthius. He had to shout because of the noise of one the knights bashing his own armor, and another was frantically trying to remove part of it.
“I’ve a writ here from the Prince Regent himself to search your premises for the Princess Alamaya. We have been informed that it has been magically determined that she’s in your dungeons. The men will be readying the ram. Resistance is pointless,” shouted Kolumnus over the din. And then turning to the knights: “What is going on with you?”
They weren’t paying him a lot of attention, and a mouse leapt frantically out of a now open gorget. That at least halved the noise for Master Hargarthius’s reply. “I think you’re exceeding your orders, as ever, Kolumnus. I offered to let you search. I’ll let them in to search. I have sent a message to the guild, and to the Weekly Illuminati Age and Magical Advertiser about this. But you’ve been an irritating carbuncle for long enough. It’s a pity you triggered one of my safety devices with your over-hasty behavior.”
One of the knights, a grizzled-bearded man with an open helmet, and a chainmail neck-piece, turned to Tom. “What’s happening, boy?”
“The roof comes down,” said Tom. “It’s a huge rock on chains. It’ll squash even the mice. Can’t you just search? I mean, she’s not here. We’ve been looking ourselves. I don’t want to die… I… I’ve got a girlfriend.”
The knight nodded. He stepped over to the Royal Magician, who was scratching symbols on the floor with his staff. Tapped him on the shoulder. “Master Kolumnus. I think we could just search.”
“Sensible man,” said Master Hargarthius. “I’ll open the outer door slightly and you can tell those fools to stop ruining my door. Good oak isn’t cheap.”
Tom decided that the next time he was sent to open the door, he would run out of it, but with a little more negotiation, a compromise was reached. Swords, and the very angry wizard’s staff were pushed out of the slightly raised stone slab to outside. Two men in dire need of some help with their armor squirmed out, and a scrawny barefoot Life-Diviner crawled in with her equipment, to join the Chief Wizard and his assistant.
“There’s going to be trouble about this, Hargarthius,” said Master Kolumnus.
“Hmph,” said Master Hargarthius. “Yes, there is going to be. I’m going to write a very strong letter to the Weekly Illuminati Age and Magical Advertiser. The magic workers of Ambyria won’t take kindly to this. Who told you I was responsible? Ridiculous. I’ve been a loyal supporter of the crown since… since I was granted the tower as my reward. Tell me who said this about me? Most of them couldn’t find their own toes.”
“I can’t reveal our informants. Anyway, you have nothing to complain about. We just intended to search your tower.”
“Last time that happened, there was a great deal of looting and destruction,” said Master Hargarthius loftily.
“Last time this tower was searched, the occupant had put a death-curse on the Queen and the King himself had disappeared!”
“I know. I let the King’s men in, remember,” said Hargarthius, tersely. “You can search anywhere, but no breaking anything this time. And my famulus and I will accompany you to make sure there’s no looting either.”
The chief wizard of the Royal Council sniffed. “The dungeons. That’s where we were informed there was a magical trace of her.”
So they went down to the extensive underground network of dungeons, cells, pits and torture chambers, which were empty even of mice. Except of course for one cell. Tom had felt faintly guilty and put the newt and the bowl of water in one of the nicer ones…
It was swimming rather hopelessly around the bowl.
“Aha! You’ll pay for this,” shrieked Kolumnus in triumph, pointing at the newt.
“What? Temporary newtering is perfectly legal,” said Hargarthius.
“Fancy doing that to her royal highness! Take the spell off at once.”
“You take the spell off. It’s not her,” said Hargarthius.
“I will.”
So he did. The large, naked, tattooed and shaven haired man suddenly sitting in a bowl of water — which broke — was not quite what the magician, or the soldiers who had unobtrusively taken up position on either side of Master Hargarthius had expected. The bouncer was yelling and gesticulating wildly, and ended up thumping a bare fist against a large armored chest. That was probably not a clever thing to do, as the knight hit him back with a mailed fist, which knocked him back against the wall.
“It’s… not the princess,” said the Life-Diviner, stating the obvious.
“Really. You don’t say!” said Master Hargarthius. “How surprising! Perhaps you’d like to try the rest of the cells? Or transforming the raven or my apprentice? You owe me for that bowl,” he pointed at the broken crockery.
The raven said: “Nevermore,” and pointedly turned its back on the chief wizard. But they did search, using the life-diviner’s magic bowl and peering into a great many rooms, and being teeth-chattered at in irritation by Mrs Drellson’s skull for dirtying up the floors.
At the end of it all, Master Hargarthius said: “Now I suggest you go and search residences of the idiots who told you it was me. And I’m planning on finding out exactly who they were. I’ve a good idea already. Zoryanthus’s plague of boils on the lot them.”
The soldiers and the wizards left, which Tom could not but be glad about. He really didn’t like the Chief Wizard any more than Master Hargarthius did, and it was so unusual to agree with old Grumptious that it made him uncomfortable.
The outer door closed behind them, and the Master leaned against the wall, and said: “Phew. Now I’ll have to do a thorough decontamination. I’ll bet they were up to something.”
“The little rat-nosed one, the Chief’s assistant, was making secret notes on a pad she had in her sleeve,” said Tom.
Master Hargarthius scowled. “Checking out the defenses. And looking for something, I would guess. The Life-Diviner Melania isn’t someone I would have thought ill of, though. The others…” He shook his head. “Well, I’ll speak to the tower, it’ll re-organize itself. Much help her notes will be to them. They walked right past some things they ought to have seen. Go up to the battlements, boy, and make sure they’ve left.”
It was a lot of stairs, but Tom was actually glad to go. And it seemed,
at least from everything he could see from up there, that the small army and royal wizards were glad to go too, and busy leaving. Tom was pleased to wave his tail in a suitably insulting fashion at them. It was insult only a cat would understand, and they were far below. He watched until they had disappeared and the master was bellowing for him.
Going back downstairs was… confusing.
Tom had always been sure the tower moved and changed. This was the first time it had done it in a hurry though. Getting to the laboratory was complicated and very different.
“I was quite correct,” said Master Hargarthius. “Two magical spying devices were left. Hmph. Does Kolumus think I was born yesterday?”
Even the Chief Magician couldn’t be quite that foolish, thought Tom.
“So have you destroyed them, master?”
“Hmph. And why would I do that?” said Master Hargarthius. “I know where they are, you will shortly know. The raven will tell them ‘Nevermore’. Perhaps we can get the skull of Mrs Drellson to talk to them about kitchen cleanliness.”
Tom could see that that would be a fitting revenge for searching his Master’s Tower.
“There is a time for taking chances, and a time for caution. We’ve moved from the latter to the former,” said Emerelda.
Alamaya had never noticed her God-mama ever going with caution, but perhaps that was just compared to Duke Karst. “So what are we going to do?”
“Stick our heads into what I suspect may be the lion’s mouth. But I may be wrong. I just didn’t trust him. I will have to put certain protections and confusing spells on you, Alamaya. Fortunately, cats are, by their very nature, somewhat resistant to magics, as they have their own.”
Safely inside their cone of silence the conclave met. “It is the Princess’s slipper. There is no doubt about that,” said Melania, examining the jeweled shoe that the Chief Wizard had purloined from the Magician Hargarthius’s laboratory.
“So where has he hidden her?” said Kolumnus.