Page 11 of The Eye of Zoltar


  ‘Fun’s over,’ said Gareth to Ralph, who was still floating in the air and now doing some rapid transformations between a piano, a walrus and a wardrobe and then back again, ‘give it a rest and come down here immediately.’

  Ralph, predictably enough, ignored him.

  ‘Blast,’ said Perkins, thumping the side of the half-track with his fist, ‘I’m responsible for this.’

  ‘No, it’s hard cheese for the idiot whatsisname,’ said the Princess. ‘If he’s stupid enough to consume a bagful of unknown spells, then he can deal with the consequences.’

  I looked at Perkins, and he looked back at me, and he sighed. With the skill of Mystical Arts comes a certain … responsibility.

  He stood up.

  ‘It’s me you want,’ he said to Gareth the Bandit. ‘That bloody fool is suffering the symptoms of acute magic poisoning. Do what you want with me, but I need to help him before he bursts.’

  Ralph responded by freeing himself from his captors and doing three somersaults in mid-air, braying like a donkey and then momentarily turning into a tiger and back again, all the time giggling uncontrollably. Ignatius and Curtis were laughing too, and cheering him on, and even some of the bandits were beginning to find it amusing. But just then Ralph’s foot expanded explosively to four times its normal size, shredding his boot and covering us with scraps of tongue, laces, leather lowers and man-made uppers. No one was laughing any more.

  ‘Go on, then,’ said Gareth.

  Perkins stretched out an index finger and began to concentrate. Doing a standard Magnaflux Spell Reversal was tricky, but I knew he wasn’t planning on that – it would be too complex given that there were now thirty or forty spells coursing through Ralph’s body. No, he’d be trying the grandmaster of all the reversals: the rarely tried, personally draining and supremely risky Genetic Master Reset.

  Ralph stopped giggling as his head swelled to twice its size and then back again, followed by a curious rippling of his skin that morphed his front into his back and then into his front again, which is a lot more unpleasant to behold than it is to describe. Even Ignatius and Curtis grimaced.

  Ralph started to scream in pain. Not that ‘stubbed your toe’ sort of pain, but more a kind of ‘detached kneecap’ kind of pain, only with seven simultaneous childbirths, neuralgia and a tooth abscess all mixed in as well, for good luck. The sort you hope you never get to experience.

  While Ralph screamed, his ear migrated across his face with a sound like tearing cloth and the tips of his fingers shot off and ricocheted dangerously about the small group, smashing a wing mirror and causing two of the bandits to duck for cover.

  And that was when Perkins let fly.

  There was a burst of energy from his fingertips and a cold fireball burst out from Ralph which then expanded to a sphere about thirty feet wide, paused for a moment in a wonderful display of crackling light, then collapsed rapidly to a ball of light that enveloped the still-screaming Ralph before vanishing in a twinkling of bright lights. There was a distant rumble and all was quiet. Ralph, such as we knew him, had gone.

  It’s an Australopithecine

  ‘Where’s Ralph gone?’ said Ignatius. ‘And who’s that?’

  He was pointing at a small, hairy and very primitive-looking man about four foot high with a flattish face and a protruding upper and lower jaw. He had a mild stoop, long arms and legs and was completely naked. He stared at us all with a furtive manner as Perkins sat back heavily in his seat, exhausted.

  ‘That’s Ralph as an Australopithecine,’ I said. ‘What Perkins did was a Genetic Master Reset – the only thing that could release him from the spells was a complete scouring out of anything that made him Ralph. And since Ralph was human, a Master Reset brought him back to the first thing that would eventually turn out to be Ralph that wasn’t quite human.’

  ‘You turned Ralph into a caveman?’ said Curtis, staring accusingly at Perkins.

  ‘It was either that,’ murmured Perkins, still with his eyes closed after the effort, ‘or resetting him to Standard Rabbit. Believe me, Australopithecine is better. At least this way he can evolve back into a human. A rabbit, well, that just stays a rabbit.’

  ‘Evolve back? That’s a relief,’ said Ignatius. ‘I promised his mother I’d have him back in a week.’

  Perkins and I exchanged looks.

  ‘It’ll take a little longer than a week,’ I said.

  ‘I suppose we could keep him in a spare room or something,’ said Ignatius. ‘How much longer?’

  ‘About 1.6 million years. I’m sorry to say that Ralph will spend the rest of his days as a primitive version of a human. He’ll still be Ralph, only with one third brain capacity, some peculiar habits and a mostly obsolete skill-set. Despite this, he’ll pick up a few words and may even learn how to use a spoon.’

  ‘Ook,’ said Ralph, staring at us all with his small dark eyes. He still looked a lot like Ralph, just shorter and hairier and more extinct.

  ‘Turn him back, you sorcery piece of scum,’ said Curtis, taking a menacing step forward. ‘I don’t believe this. You turned my best friend into a caveman?’

  It was Perkins’ turn to get angry now, but he wasn’t going to. Firstly, he was exhausted, and secondly, it wasn’t in his nature. But it was in mine.

  ‘Listen here, numbskull,’ I said, pressing a finger against Curtis’ chest. ‘Ralph as you know him isn’t coming back. And just so you know, Perkins didn’t have to help him. But when he did, he gave up some of his own life to do so. That’s right, idiot. Notice anything different about Perkins? He’s aged a decade. He gave those years to save your dumb friend’s life, so the next time you open your stupid gob it will be to say: “Thank you, Mr Perkins, we are not worthy of your generosity”. Understand?’

  Curtis and Ignatius frowned and looked at Perkins curiously. Now they looked, they could see he was older. A few minutes ago Perkins had been a spotty-faced eighteen-year-old, but now he was a handsomish man in his late twenties. A Genetic Master Reset takes a lot of wizidrical energy, and if there’s not enough in the air about you, there is only one place you can go: your own life spirit. Magic is a form of emotional energy bound up inside everything that lives, and since all life is one, we are all part of that same magical energy. Life is magic, and magic is life. But the broader point was this: Perkins had given ten years of his life to help Ralph, whom he neither knew nor liked.

  Ignatius and Curtis went silent, and stared at one another with, I hope, a sense of shame. Gareth and his bandits, who had been watching the spectacle with a kind of appalled curiosity, decided they had seen enough.

  ‘We’re done,’ said Gareth. ‘Lower the finger, wizard, and do exactly what we say.’

  Perkins was too tired to do anything other than what he was told. Within a few seconds he had been hauled out of the half-track and made to sit on the ground. Gareth went through Perkins’ papers and they soon ascertained who he was and that he was totally kidnappable. While this was going on, Addie had moved across to where I was sitting in the driver’s seat.

  ‘You might have told me you had a wizard with you,’ she said.

  ‘There’s lots of things I haven’t told you.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like we’re actually looking for the Eye of Zoltar. The guy in Llangurig we need to visit is called Able Quizzler, and he connected the Eye to Sky Pirate Wolff.’

  She sighed.

  ‘I can’t speak for Able Quizzler, but Sky Pirate Wolff hasn’t been seen in years, if she was ever seen at all, and the legendary Leviathans’ Graveyard is exactly that – legendary.’

  ‘Even so,’ I said, ‘I’d still like to look.’

  Addie looked at me and realised just how serious I was.

  ‘If you’re chasing dreams and legends across Cambria, Jenny, you must want the Eye of Zoltar pretty badly.’

  ‘If we don’t find it then our two Dragons are to be killed by the most powerful wizard in the land, and we will be honour bound to die
attempting to save them.’

  ‘And would one of those Dragons be rubber right now, the same one you denied knowing anything about?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Terrific. Anything else? Surprises, I mean?’

  I thought about the Princess.

  ‘There might be more … It’s an instalment kind of thing. Will you still be our tour guide?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Addie. ‘Deluded tourists chasing after barely credible legends is not just our bread and butter, but also very entertaining. I think you’re mistaken, but I’ll still help you.’

  I thanked her, and my attention was taken by a comment from the bandit named Rhys.

  ‘How much can we ransom him for?’

  ‘We’re not going to ransom him,’ announced Gareth, ‘we’re going to give him away.’

  The two other bandits stopped and stared at Gareth suspiciously.

  ‘To the Emperor,’ continued Gareth. ‘His Tyrannic Majesty will look favourably upon such a valuable gift.’

  The two bandits nodded enthusiastically, and my heart fell. Emperor Tharv would indeed welcome the gift. He needed sorcerers, and for one reason only: to help him develop a powerful Thermowizidrical Device with which to threaten his neighbouring kingdoms. Needless to say, this would not be a good thing.

  ‘It’s time we left,’ said Addie in a low voice, ‘before Gareth starts wanting the half-track as well.’

  ‘No way,’ I said. ‘I can’t leave without Perkins.’

  ‘You don’t have a choice – unless you think you can kill those three and get out of the country before the rest of their tribe catches up with you?’

  ‘I have … a Dragon,’ I said. ‘Admittedly he’s rubber right now, but he’ll be turning back pretty soon.’

  ‘And if he does, and if he can get here, will he be willing to kill them to get Perkins back?’

  I thought about Colin’s strictly pacifist nature.

  ‘Actually, probably not. But he can be seriously scary – talons, teeth, barbed tail, fiery breath, that sort of thing.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s very scary where you come from, but considering the loathsome creatures that squirm, squelch, drift or creep around this country, a Dragon has a terror rating of two. And to put that into context, a Tralfamosaur is a five, and my gran is an eight.’

  ‘Your gran must be very scary,’ I said.

  ‘She ate a live whippet once,’ said Addie, ‘which is pretty scary, especially during a wedding.’

  ‘What did the bride and groom say?’

  ‘She was the bride. I think she wanted to make a statement to her in-laws.’

  ‘That would be quite a statement,’ said the Princess, pulling a face.

  ‘There must be something we can do about Perkins,’ I implored. ‘He’s a good friend, and I really like him.’

  Addie shrugged.

  ‘It’s not like he’s dead,’ she said. ‘You’ll meet him again some time, I’m sure.’

  ‘True,’ I replied, ‘but I also think Emperor Tharv might reopen research into Thermowizidrical Weapons if he had access to a sorcerer.’

  Addie thought for a moment.

  ‘You’re right,’ she said, ‘and that would be a screaming disaster. Wait here.’

  She patted me on the arm, and approached the three bandits, who were all congratulating themselves on their good fortune.

  ‘How much for him?’ she asked, pointing not at Perkins but at the man who was the bandit’s previous kidnap victim.

  ‘Getting into the kidnap business, Addie?’

  ‘Tour guide pay is not what it used to be.’

  Gareth thought for a moment, then nodded. They went into a huddle for some bargaining, and two minutes later Addie returned with their previous victim. He was in his mid-sixties and dressed in a tweed jacket and plus-fours. He had a genial demeanour, an impressive moustache, but didn’t look as though he’d slept in a proper bed for a week.

  ‘This is Mr Wilson,’ said Addie, ‘and we’re leaving.’

  The others needed no second bidding and hurriedly clambered aboard the half-track.

  ‘Why did you buy him?’ I said to Addie in a low voice.

  ‘I have a plan to get your Perkins back,’ she said, ‘and there can’t be any witnesses.’

  I stared at her to see whether she was pulling my leg, but she wasn’t. She nodded in the direction of the bandits, who were readying to leave.

  ‘Better say your goodbyes.’

  I walked across to Perkins.

  ‘Hey,’ I said, ‘how are you feeling?’

  ‘Not great,’ he said. ‘They want to present me to Emperor Tharv as a gift. I’ve never been a gift before.’

  I leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, and took the opportunity to whisper: ‘Trust us. You’ll be fine.’

  The bandits then mounted Perkins on a spare Buzonji and were soon lost to view in a swirl of dust. I watched them go and then returned to the half-track. I was, as you might imagine, of a somewhat heavy heart. Perkins was the closest thing to a boyfriend I had, and despite our recently increased difference in ages, I didn’t want to lose him. I looked at my watch. At seven I would contact Tiger using the conch and report what had happened. Moobin or Lady Mawgon would doubtless know what to do.

  At the Claerwin

  ‘Hello, everyone,’ said our new travelling companion as soon as we were on the move, ‘you don’t have to call me Mr Wilson – Wilson is just dandy. I’m an ornithologist.’

  ‘A what?’ asked Curtis.

  ‘It’s someone who studies birds,’ said the Princess.

  ‘Hadn’t you heard?’ said Curtis with an impertinent laugh. ‘Birds have all but vanished in the Empire.’

  ‘Which makes the sport of birdwatching quintriply fascinating,’ said Wilson. ‘Think of the thrill of finding a bird where there aren’t any. Marvellous.’

  ‘You’re mad,’ said Curtis.

  ‘Bit rude,’ said Wilson cheerfully. ‘Who’s the hairy chap and does he know that his thing is showing?’

  ‘That’s Ralph,’ I said, ‘and I don’t think he cares if it’s showing or not.’

  ‘Ook,’ said Ralph, sort of in agreement.

  ‘An ornithologist?’ I said, still considering Wilson’s earlier statement.

  ‘It’s how I managed to negotiate his release so easily,’ said Addie. ‘Gareth mistook ornithologist for anthologist. Practitioners skilled in the art of collecting works of poetry are sound, tradable commodities out here, while birdwatchers just eat your food and say: “Ooh, stop the car a minute, I think I can see Painted Dillbury”.’

  ‘Where?’ asked Wilson excitedly, before realising it was simply an example. ‘The funny thing,’ he added, ‘is that I am also an anthologist. I didn’t tell them because they never asked. I’m very grateful, by the way. As a special treat I’ll tell you all about the Cloud Pippit. The sparrow-sized bird has a density only slightly greater than helium and nests upon rising columns of air—’

  ‘Bored now,’ said Curtis.

  ‘Still rude,’ said Wilson.

  ‘Where are you heading?’ I asked.

  ‘This way, now,’ he said, pointing in the direction we were going. ‘I have no plans. You?’

  ‘Llangurig,’ I answered, ‘and then perhaps to Cadair Idris.’

  ‘To watch Leviathans?’ he asked, suddenly excited.

  ‘It’s possible.’

  ‘Not exactly birds, but they do fly and have as yet unobserved mating rituals – I’m in.’

  ‘It’s on a fifty per cent risk factor,’ I said, ‘and we’ve not lost anyone yet so mathematically speaking you could still be fair game.’

  ‘I’m still in,’ said Wilson with a grin. ‘I’ve heard Leviathans are a total blast.’

  There were no other incidents of note in the next hour, and after driving through a narrow gorge where we had to pay two sub-quality bandits an insultingly low fee for the privilege to pass, we came upon the Claerwin lake, a large
body of water nestling quietly about twenty miles inside the Quarter. We drove along the banks of the lake for a mile or so and arrived at one of the many campsites dotted about the countryside, expressly for the use of travellers eager to spend a safe and unmolested night.

  ‘Okay,’ said Addie as we pulled into the deserted campsite and parked next to the shattered remains of long-abandoned armoured vehicles, ‘I know it’s not late, but we’ll camp here for the night. It’ll be a long day tomorrow if we’re to make Llangurig before nightfall.’

  We climbed out of the half-track and stared at the lake, which was about a mile across.

  ‘It looks almost perfectly … circular,’ said Curtis.

  ‘I read in Conspiracy Theorist magazine that the lakes around here are craters from top-secret Thermowizidrical Device weapons tests back in the eighties,’ said Ignatius.

  ‘Thermowizidrical … what?’ asked Curtis.

  ‘Using magic to cause explosions,’ I said, ‘usually two contradicting spells that draw increasing amounts of power as they attempt to cancel each other out. If left unchecked the spell will break down and then either fizzle out or go supercritical and violently explode. Crucially, the two spells could be potentially just written down – the power to take out a city block or two from a few scribbles on the back of an envelope.’

  ‘There was magical fallout for years following the testing,’ said Addie, ‘resulting in all sorts of odd occurrences: balls of light, strange apparitions, levitations. We think it’s how Buzonjis were created. That a pony and an okapi were too close to one another drinking at the lake and, bingo – fused by a wayward spell.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Ignatius, ‘it’s like we’re standing near the location of a massive weapons test area or something.’

  ‘It’s not like we are,’ said Curtis, ‘we are standing on the site of a weapons test area.’

  ‘Is it still dangerous?’ asked Wilson.

  ‘Not if we don’t stay too long,’ said Addie, ‘forty-eight hours, max. If anyone notices any weirdness, raise the alarm.’

  ‘What sort of weirdness?’ asked Curtis.

  ‘Metal corroding too quickly, sand changing into glass, growing extra toes – you’ll definitely know it when you see it.’