The Wizard of Rondo

by Emily Rodda

  ‘He wasn’t a bread-man then, you fool!’ Bing said irritably. ‘Mind you, even if he had been I’d probably still have hired him. I couldn’t do without an apprentice, could I? Someone has to wash the test tubes and cook my meals and feed the chickens and chop the wood and so on.’

  He stared around resentfully, but finding that no one looked at all sympathetic, he went back to his story.

  ‘Everything was all right that night, and all the next day,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mention Simon’s treachery to the chickens. He’s a bit of a favourite with them for some reason, and I was too busy to cope with a scene.’

  Moult made a strangled sound and all her feathers fluffed up so that she almost filled the basket. The wizard either didn’t care or didn’t notice.

  ‘I showed Tom my invention, and he was most impressed,’ he went on. ‘I was very pleased with him. But after our omelettes, when I had dozed off at my table for a moment, he tried to sneak away with my wand and my golden egg. And when I woke up and tried to stop him, he hit me with the wand and there I was – a mushroom myself! The wand was still tuned to Vegetable of the Day, you see.’

  ‘A mushroom isn’t actually a vegetable, you know,’ Conker said knowledgeably. ‘It’s actually a fungus.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Officer Begood asked with interest, and wrote it down in his notebook.

  ‘It just goes to show you can’t be too careful with apprentices,’ Bing said. ‘I was better off with Simon – even if he did change my good cauldron into a turnip.’

  The cooking pot in Conker’s arms wriggled with interest, but didn’t say anything. It seemed rather overawed by Wizard Bing.

  I knew something was missing from Bing’s house! Leo thought. That’s what it was – a cauldron! How could a wizard brew potions without a cauldron? And I actually saw that huge turnip on the hearthrug.

  ‘So that’s what happened on Thirstyday night, is it, Wizard Bing?’ Moult asked, in the frostiest voice Leo had ever heard her use. ‘That’s why you called Simon a clumsy nincompoop and told him to get out and never come back?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Bing said carelessly. ‘Another little snag I’ve struck with this invention is that it hasn’t got a reverse gear. It can’t undo its transformations, so it’s very aggravating if you touch something by mistake. Naturally I was a little annoyed with Simon. I was already feeling rather low because the Vegetable of the Day was turnip. I’m not fond of turnips.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Conker agreed, wrinkling his nose. ‘Turnip and chilli mash, for example, must be the worst pie filling ever invented.’

  Leo grinned, remembering Conker’s feud with Crumble the pie-seller. It seemed so long ago that he had stood by Crumble’s stall with Conker and Freda, while Crumble complained about people asking for free samples. But it wasn’t long ago at all, he reminded himself. It was only yesterday.

  And suddenly an idea came to him – an extraordinary idea. It couldn’t be, he told himself. But the more he thought about it, the more he remembered little things that, added together, seemed to make a very complete, very convincing picture.

  Feeling slightly dazed, he turned his attention back to the conversation going on around him.

  ‘Simon was a terrible apprentice,’ Wizard Bing was telling Conker in injured tones. ‘Stupid and clumsy and always wanting me to pay him – as if he was worth paying! He got his meals free, didn’t he? I even let him build a new chicken house in his spare time. And how did he reward me? He left me in the lurch, so I got changed into a mushroom!’

  Moult drew herself up. ‘Wizard Bing,’ she said, in a trembling voice. ‘I have always been loyal to you, but no hen of honour can put up with being lied to, and tricked, and hearing her friends insulted. I hereby resign as a member of your flock.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Moult,’ said Bing. ‘You’ve got nowhere else to go.’

  ‘I will be homeless, certainly,’ said Moult with dignity. ‘But better a nest on the side of the road than a snug coop with a bad master.’

  ‘As you like.’ Bing shrugged.

  ‘Oh, poor Simon!’ Muffy Clogg moaned. ‘Whatever can have become of him?’

  Officer Begood cleared his throat with the air of one determined to take control of a difficult situation. ‘Brace yourself, madam,’ he said to Muffy. ‘I fear you must expect the worst concerning your unfortunate nephew. As to the whereabouts of your maid, I can make no comment at this time.’

  ‘Dabs to dibs that villain Count Éclair disposed of them both,’ Master Sadd said with gloomy relish.

  Muffy Clogg began to wail. Candy sniffled. Bun, Patty and Woodley looked sorrowful. Even Clogg rumbled in distress.

  Leo knew he had to speak up. He couldn’t let everyone grieve when he was sure there was no need for it.

  ‘Don’t give up hope, Mistress Clogg,’ he said. ‘I think Tilly and Simon are fine.’

  ‘And what would you know about it?’ sneered Bodelia. ‘You’re nothing but a rascally rug thief. Master Sadd is no doubt perfectly right. We’ll never see that flibbertigibbet Tilly or that poor fool Simon Humble again!’

  ‘Well, it seems you’re wrong for once, Mistress Parker,’ called a laughing voice. And to the astonishment of everyone except Leo, Tilly the maid came tripping through the crowd, smiling prettily and holding the hand of a skinny, bashful-looking young man with popping pale green eyes.

  ‘Simon!’ shrieked Muffy Clogg.

  ‘Simon!’ squawked Moult, hurtling out of the basket and into the young man’s arms.

  ‘I went away secretly to seek my fortune, Aunt Muffy,’ said the young man. ‘I met a kind man called Count Éclair in the woods, and he told me it was the only way I’d ever be able to marry Tilly. But today I read in the paper that I’d killed Wizard Bing, so I wrote to Tilly to tell her I hadn’t.’

  ‘And I wrote back at once,’ said Tilly, ‘telling him to come home as soon as the cloud palace had stopped covering the Gap, because I didn’t want a fortune, I just wanted him.’

  The young man grinned and blushed.

  ‘Oh, my lungs and liver!’ Conker roared. ‘I don’t believe it! It’s – it’s that straw-haired chap who’s just started work at the Black Sheep!’

  Chapter

  39

  Celebrations

  I knew it!’ crowed Leo, as Simon and Tilly were swamped in a sea of rejoicing people. ‘Someone had started asking Crumble for free pies – just like Simon used to do with Bun here. Wizard Bing had been working on a new sort of glow-worm food – and the glow-worm plague had only struck in Hobnob and at the Black Sheep. And everything we’d ever heard about Simon reminded me of Jolly’s new assistant.’

  ‘Do you know what this means?’ Freda muttered in disgust. ‘It means we could have solved the whole mystery without ever leaving home!’

  ‘Oh, sure,’ Conker said. ‘But that wouldn’t have been any fun.’

  ‘Fun!’ Freda quacked. ‘Tye nearly got lynched by an angry mob, Leo, Mimi and Bertha nearly got snaffled by the Blue Queen –’

  ‘Oh, I hope Bertha’s all right!’ Mimi exclaimed. ‘I hope they got to the farm in time.’

  ‘We’ll go and find out,’ said Conker, rubbing his hands. ‘Our work here is done.’

  ‘We’re not going anywhere till we’ve been paid,’ Freda said, setting off into the crowd.

  Music had begun playing, and many people were dancing. Woodley was whirring overhead, beaming and waving. The trees were swaying and whispering with pleasure.

  ‘You two might like to tidy yourselves up a bit before we see Mistress Clogg,’ Conker said as he, Mimi and Leo hurried after Freda. ‘You’ve still got Strix sparkle stuff all over you.’

  Leo looked down in surprise and saw that Conker was right. His clothes were thickly spangled with tiny glittering flecks that sparkled in the moonlight.

  My memories are my dreams …

  ‘It doesn’t matter, Conker,’ Mimi said quickly.

  ‘It does,’ Conker insisted. ‘We don’t want to
give Mistress Clogg the wrong impression, do we?’

  Since the cooking pot was still clinging to Conker like a large black limpet, sneezing repeatedly because of the breadcrumbs thickly encrusting Conker’s hair and beard, Leo thought he and Mimi weren’t the only ones who might look strange to Muffy Clogg. Nevertheless, to be obliging, he brushed at the flecks of colour on the front of his jacket.

  Some sparkles flew upward, and the next moment a white unicorn with a golden horn was plunging in the air before him.

  Leo gasped. The people around him yelled, scrambling to avoid the rearing animal’s golden hooves, but Leo didn’t move. Transfixed, he stared at the unicorn. He’d seen it before, in the palace of the Strix. But now it was so close, floating in the air right in front of him, and it was the most magnificent thing he had ever seen. His chest ached, and tears burned behind his eyes. He knew it was a vision, but it seemed so real.

  And that’s because it is real, he thought. It’s a memory, one of the Ancient One’s millions of memories, from the time since Rondo began. He sighed as the unicorn memory softly dissolved into pinpoints of light and vanished.

  ‘Oh, my guts and garters!’ Conker exclaimed.

  ‘Don’t touch that stuff again, Leo!’ Mimi snapped.

  Leo put his head down and hurried after his companions, trying to close his ears to the excited whispers of the crowd and feeling annoyed with himself because Mimi had obviously known what would happen when the coloured flecks were disturbed, and he hadn’t had the slightest idea.

  But I saw the unicorn, he thought suddenly. I saw it, right up close! And as the wonderful memory filled his mind again, he felt a delicious warmth spread through him, and smiled.

  They found Muffy sitting by Woodley’s fireplace, fanning herself and looking confused but very happy. Simon, grinning broadly and still clasping the elated Moult, was with her, and so were Clogg, Tilly, Officer Begood and Wizard Bing who, naturally, had claimed the only other chair. Scribble was hovering at the edge of the group, busily taking notes.

  ‘Simon and I kept our engagement a secret, because we knew you wouldn’t approve, Mistress Clogg,’ Tilly was telling Muffy. ‘Oh, I’ve been so unhappy, thinking that Simon was a gaoled mushroom! That’s why I suggested you write to Bertha’s quest team. I knew Bertha could help. My sisters have always said that she’s a true heroine.’

  ‘Mercy!’ cried Muffy, with a flustered glance at Clogg.

  ‘Well!’ said Wizard Bing. ‘I don’t usually allow my apprentices to have wives, but I’ll make an exception in your case, Tilly. You seem a sensible, hardworking girl. You’ll clean up my house in no time.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Tilly composedly, ‘but you dismissed Simon from your service, so he is no longer your apprentice. After we’re married, he and I are going to live on a farm.’

  ‘Ridiculous!’ snapped Wizard Bing. ‘How can Simon have a farm? He hasn’t got a dib to his name!’

  ‘No he hasn’t, thanks to you, sir,’ Tilly said pertly. ‘But I have. I’ve been saving a little from my wages every week since I met him, and this afternoon I bought a nice piece of land on the edge of town. Simon will build our house and the farm buildings. He’s very good at building, aren’t you, Simon?’

  Simon nodded and grinned at her adoringly. ‘We’re going to keep chickens and sell the eggs, Moult,’ he said to the shabby little hen nestled in his arms. ‘Will you come and be the founder of our flock?’

  ‘Me?’ gasped Moult.

  ‘Why not, Moult?’ said Mimi, smiling at her. ‘You’re a Sunday’s chick – the Ancient One said so. And I think it’s only right that Simon and Tilly’s flock should have a founder who’s brave and noble, good and true.’

  ‘A Sunday’s chick!’ exclaimed Tilly, clasping her hands. And everyone, even Wizard Bing, regarded Moult with great respect.

  ‘Well, I’m not so sure about all this,’ Muffy said in a high voice. ‘After all, Simon is my nephew. And Tilly is only a maid!’

  ‘You were only a maid when I met you, my love,’ Clogg said gently. ‘Such a pretty one, too.’

  Muffy blushed, dimpled, and pressed her handkerchief to her eyes.

  ‘Right, so everyone lives happily ever after,’ Freda said briskly. ‘Now, Mistress Clogg, to business! We’ve come about our fee.’

  Muffy Clogg glanced nervously at her husband again.

  ‘Don’t worry, my love,’ said Clogg. ‘I don’t blame you for not telling me you’d hired the quest team. I’ve been very bad-tempered lately, I know. It’s just … my little problems have been getting me down.’ He shot a resentful glance at Wizard Bing.

  The cooking pot sneezed and struggled in Conker’s arms. He put it down and at once it ran to Wizard Bing. ‘You’ve got a pretty dress, Bingle,’ it said admiringly.

  ‘Hmmph!’ said Bing. As Muffy began rummaging in a frilly handbag he stood up and stomped crossly away from her. ‘I don’t know what you’ve got to complain about, Clogg!’ he snapped. ‘You’re rolling in money and you’ve got assistants coming out your ears. All thanks to me, I might add. My word, that was a clever spell! I wish I could remember how I did it.’

  ‘So it was you who magicked those elves on me!’ hissed Clogg. ‘Well, I’ll thank you to just magic them away again!’

  ‘I can’t do that, my dear man,’ Bing said patronisingly, turning to face him. ‘They’re not warts, you know. They’ve got a will of their own. They’ll leave when they want to and not before.’

  Clogg clenched his fists and took a menacing step forward. Bing brandished his wand in alarm.

  ‘Wizard Bing,’ Leo said hurriedly. ‘I was thinking …’

  Bing swung round, his eyebrows bristling, the wand held high. Leo resisted taking a step back. ‘Master Clogg has elves doing all his work, and he doesn’t want them any more,’ he said carefully. ‘And you have lots of work to do, and no one to help you do it. So maybe if you were to explain this to the elves they might …’

  Wizard Bing lowered the wand. ‘You know, Clogg, the boy might have something there,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘If there’s one thing elves love, it’s work. And my house might interest them – it’s a mess.’

  ‘Wonderful!’ cried Clogg. ‘Let’s go and ask them now.’

  They shook hands, beaming as if they were the very best of friends.

  ‘Now!’ said Wizard Bing. ‘All I need is a new cooking pot.’

  The cooking pot sprang into his arms. ‘Bingle,’ it crooned. ‘Clever, famous Bingle! You have a magic wand. You don’t have sneezy crumbs in your beard! And you have a very nice dress. Take me to live with you, plee-ease!’

  ‘It’s a robe, not a dress,’ Bing said with dignity. ‘Still …’ Glancing furtively at Conker, who was cunningly pretending to look the other way, he hurried off with the cooking pot in his arms and Clogg at his heels.

  ‘What next?’ Leo gasped, as soon as he and Mimi had stopped laughing.

  ‘Next we visit the bathhouse,’ Mimi said. ‘As soon as we’ve stolen Woodley’s tablecloth.’

  When Leo and Mimi returned to Woodley’s fireplace, they found it deserted except for Conker and Freda, who were sitting in Woodley’s chairs happily dividing a large heap of coins into five equal piles. They looked up as Leo and Mimi joined them.

  ‘You look a lot less sparkly than you did,’ Freda remarked.

  ‘We had a bath,’ said Mimi. ‘Conker, give Leo my share to keep for me. We’ve –’

  Two identical mice emerged from beneath a clump of grass by Conker’s foot. ‘Message for Conker the dot-catcher,’ they said in unison.

  ‘So the strike’s over, is it?’ snapped Conker, scowling at them as he took the two messages, one very frayed around the edges, the other crisp and new.

  ‘Talks are continuing, but we have returned to work for the moment as a gesture of goodwill,’ droned the right-hand mouse.

  ‘Oh, really,’ Conker snarled. Freda snapped her beak. The mice squeaked and dived back under the clump of grass.

>   Conker scanned the old message rapidly. ‘This is the one Hal sent me this morning, saying he’d just discovered that the queen had left her castle and he thought she must have gone up in smoke,’ he sighed. ‘Oh, my heart, lungs and liver, we would have saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we’d had this before.’

  ‘Conker, read the other one!’ Mimi begged.

  Conker unfolded the second note. Everyone waited anxiously as he looked at it. His face broke into a broad grin and he held the note out so everyone could see it.

  Arrived just in time. Massacre foiled. Bertha magnificent. Sending rug back to you at Snug. See you at the Black Sheep.

  Hal

  Leo and Mimi cheered. Freda shrugged as if she’d known all along that everything would be fine, but Leo thought she looked mightily relieved all the same. ‘Let’s go and get the packs,’ she said, turning away. ‘We’d better be ready for a quick getaway in case Begood gets funny about who the rug belongs to.’

  When the rug landed at their feet not long afterwards, however, even Bodelia could see that it regarded them as its rightful owners.

  Goodbyes took quite a long time. Word of the quest team’s exploits had spread, and everyone, it seemed, wanted to shake hands with the heroes. Woodley made a little speech saying that despite some inaccurate and sensational press coverage it had been an honour to have them in the Hobnob Snug. Simon banged them on the back, too moved to speak. Moult, utterly content and already looking glossier, blinked away tears and said she would never forget them. Tilly kissed them all on both cheeks and said she wished they’d change their minds about leaving and stay for the wedding.

  ‘We’d like to,’ said Leo. ‘But we’ll be … somewhere else, tomorrow.’

  Home. It was hard to imagine.

  ‘Somewhere else?’ asked Scribble, his long nose twitching. ‘Where would that be?’

  ‘None of your business,’ growled Conker. ‘And don’t ask for a lift back to town, either, gnome.’

  ‘I don’t want a lift,’ Scribble said scornfully. ‘I’m going by Woffles Way to test my new purchase – a unique pair of seven-league boots from Clogg’s Shoe Emporium. It’s quite amazing, the distance they cover with every stride.’