The Accidental sorcerer ra-1

by K. E. Mills

  Damn. This was where things went from bad to worse really fast. Gerald grabbed Reg off his shoulder, shoved her at Markham and threw himself into the fray.

  'Sultan Zazoor, your quarrel is with me,' he said, ignoring Melissande's furious protest. 'Her Royal Highness is — '

  Zazoor raised a silencing hand and looked at Shugat. 'This is he?' Shugat nodded. 'This is he.'

  Zazoor's camel curled back its upper lip, lavishly fringed eyes glinting with displeasure, and stepped forward until it could blow its hot stinking breath into Gerald's upturned face.

  'You are the foreign wizard who would presume to usurp our gods,' Zazoor said pleasantly. 'Why shouldn't my holy man strike you dead where you stand?'

  As Melissande gasped, Gerald forced himself to meet the sultan's pitiless gaze. 'Your holy man can do whatever he likes to me. I won't stop him. I'll even agree I deserve it. Just not before he helps me kill a dragon. Or a man. Whichever comes first… or easiest.'

  Zazoor's cold expression did not alter. 'Both you and the princess speak of a dragon. But dragons do not live in the world, wizard. Unless you wish to claim that Grimthak, Holiest of the Holy, greatest god of Kallarap, has clothed himself in form and flame to anoint the kingdom of New Ottosland?'

  He shook his head. 'No, Magnificence.This is an unholy dragon. A monster of flesh and blood and magic'

  'I see,' Zazoor said thoughtfully. 'And how does it come here?'

  His hands fisted, then relaxed. 'Magnificence, I made it.'

  The briefest spark of surprise showed in the sultan's hooded eyes.'For what purpose, wizard?'

  Tell him, Dunnywood. You've got nothing left to lose. 'For the enslavement of your people and the pillaging of your desert's Tears.'

  Again Zazoor looked to Shugat. His handsome face was grim.'"Evil", you said, my holy man. And so has evil come to pass.'

  Shugat nodded, equally grim. 'The gods do not lie, Magnificence.'

  'Tell me, wizard,' said Zazoor. 'By whose order did you bring forth this unholy dragon, that my people might be made to suffer?'

  'I made it for Lional, Forty-third King of New Ottosland.'

  Zazoor's eyes closed as though he were pierced by a terrible pain.'You did this knowing the dragon was an abomination? Knowing how Lional intended to use it?' / did. Hell, I did. 'Yes.'

  Now Zazoor's eyes opened. His face was terrible.' Why?'

  'Don't answer that, Gerald,' Melissande said quickly. 'You're not on trial here, this isn't a court of law. He — '

  'Magnificence,' he said, touching her hand so she fell silent. 'I made the dragon because I'm weak.'

  From behind him came a cackling shriek of fury. Then Reg landed in a flurry of feathers on his shoulder.

  'Weak my granny's bunions! Now you listen to me, Zazoor! If you knew what that bastard Lional did to my Gerald to get that dragon, you'd — ' 'The bird?' Zazoor said Co Shugat. Shugat nodded. 'The bird.' Zazoor considered her. 'Not, 1 think, trained.'

  'Trained?' screeched Reg. 'What do you think I am, a bloody circus act?'

  The smallest of smiles touched Zazoor's lips. 'What you are is a mystery'

  'And I can stay a bloody mystery, all right?' retorted Reg. 'Let's just stick to the point. In case you'd forgotten there's an overgrown handbag with wings around here somewhere and we've got to take care of it before this little gathering becomes the biggest outdoor barbecue in the history of New Ottosland!' Gerald sighed. 'Reg…'

  She whacked him on the head. 'You shut up. What's the matter with you, telling Mr Turban-head here you're weak?' She rounded on Zazoor again. 'This boy's just come out of a dark, dank cave where he spent nine days being hideously tortured by that maniac Lional! Suffering things that'd make your camel turn white! And if he hadn't given in, nine days would've turned into foreverl Could you endure being tortured forever? No. Could you endure being tortured for nine days? Hah! I'll bet you wouldn't last nine minutesl So don't you dare sit up there on your mangy sinking ship of the desert and presume to call Gerald evil or weak or anything like it, or you'll have me to answer to! Do I make myself clear?'

  If Zazoor was offended by the outburst nothing in his expression hinted at it. Instead he glanced at Shugat, who tapped his camel on the knee with his staff, waited for it to fold its legs then climbed down, staff in hand, to stand before him, his deep-sunk eyes half lidded and his thin-lipped mouth pursed.

  Gerald waited, barely breathing. Is this it? Is that wrinkled old face the last thing in this world my living eyes will see? He flinched, then braced himself as Shugat pressed one palm over his heart hard enough to bruise. He felt an immense wave of power flow through him like a river unleashed. Grunting, he held his ground. Just.

  Shugat's eyes closed. A nimbus of light exploded from his forehead. After a moment he stiffened, his face spasming. Then he sighed, a long slow exhalation of pent-up air, stepped back and looked at Zazoor.

  'The bird does not lie, my sultan. The wizard has suffered. His blood still stinks of foul enchantments.'

  Zazoor tapped one elegantly tapered forefinger against his lips.Then his gaze shifted and he lifted a beckoning hand. A moment later, Monk joined them.

  'And who are you?' said Zazoor. 'Another wizard?'

  Monk cleared his throat. 'Yes, Magnificence. I'm — '

  'A friend,' said Gerald, and silenced Monk with a burning look.'Innocent of these doings. He's not to be harmed.'

  Zazoor raised his eyebrows. 'You would stop me?' i'd try.'

  A flickering glance indicated Shugat and the menacing ranks of waiting warriors. 'You would fail.'

  He held the other man's gaze without flinching. 'Perhaps. But not before I'd tried.'

  Zazoor laughed. 'Holy Shugat. This wizard asks us to help him destroy the dragon. What is our answer?'

  Withered, sundried and bent beneath his weight of years, Shugat lifted his staff and struck it into the gravelled ground. Thunder rumbled from the cloudless sky. 'No!

  'No?' cried Melissande into the ringing echoes. 'Why not? What's the matter with you people? You heard Gerald! Lional and his dragon are out to destroy you! You have to help us stop them!'

  'Kallarap is in no danger from your brother or his dragon,' Zazoor said mildly. 'Kallarap is protected by the Three. Perhaps you should find your own holy men and ask them to speak to your god so he may provide protection for you.'

  She spread her arms wide. 'Look around you, Zazoor! Do you see any of our clergy rushing to my aid? No, I'm pretty sure you don't, because they've all run away just like everybody else!'

  Zazoor shook his head. 'Then your god is to be pitied, Melissande, that he is worshipped by such straw men.'

  'Magnificence, the dragon has flame!' she cried. 'And its venom is instant death! Look around you at my fallen people. You'll burn in fire and acid, just like they did! Your charred remains will stink as theirs do!' 'We are Kallarapi. We will not burn.'

  'So — what? You'll stand by and watch the dragon kill anyone not lucky enough to be riding a camel?' she demanded bitterly. 'And when we're all dead, what then? You'll ransack our Treasury sofas for any spare coins you can find between the cushions then go home to Kallarap secure in the knowledge of a job well done? Is that your great gods' plan, Magnificence? Is that their vaunted justice and mercy? Because if it is — ' And she spat on the ground at his camel's feet. Gerald sighed. 'Melissande, don't!' said Monk, alarmed.

  'Steady on, ducky,' muttered Reg. 'Does the word "outnumbered" mean anything to you?'

  Ignoring them, Melissande stared up at Zazoor, all her freckles blotchy in a face gone ivory-pale with temper. Behind Zazoor a growl as his army sat a little straighter and reached for their scimitars.

  The sultan raised a finger and they subsided, reluctantly. 'Shugat?'

  'He who made the dragon must now unmake it,' the holy man pronounced. His eyes had rolled back in his head, leaving slivered crescents of white. 'So say the Three, whose words are holy and cannot be denied.' Zazoor looked at Gerald. 'You have our answer.'
<
br />   He could've screamed. He//. Were Shugat's deities deaf? 'I told you, Zazoor, I can't defeat the dragon. Not by myself. Reg, back off please.'

  With a muttered curse, she jumped from his shoulder over to Monk's. 'Gerald, what are you doing?'

  What had to be done. He stepped forward till he was close enough to touch Zazoor, then dropped to his knees and looked into the Kallarapi sultan's unforgiving face. 'Magnificence, I beg you: listen to my words. Lional knows magics far fouler than those he used on me. I have power, it is true, but I am not strong enough to defeat him or the dragon. They're no longer two creatures, but one. Help me, I implore you. And when it's done — when Lional and his dragon are dead — I'll return with you to Kallarap to face whatever judgement your gods decree I deserve.' 'No, Gerald!' idiot boy!' 'Dunnywood, you maniac — '

  Not turning, not shifting his gaze from Zazoor, he raised a hand and his friends fell silent. 'Magnificence, please, don't let more innocent people suffer because of me.'

  Zazoor considered him in silence. 'My gods' wrath is fearsome, wizard,' he said at last. 'They punish with fire and tooth and talon. They will show you no mercy. You understand this? You understand what will happen to you if I agree?'

  Gerald nodded. For what he'd done he wanted forgiveness… but he deserved retribution. 'Believe me, I understand. Magnificence — ' 'Melly! Melly! There you are!' He looked around. Rupert. Staggering towards them from behind the palace, an unhappy Boris in his arms. Covered in soot and ash, his blue velvet knickerbockers and orange silk shirt charred in a dozen places and his face streaked with sweat or tears or both. 'RupertV cried Melissande and ran to meet him.

  Flooded with relief Gerald stood and watched as brother and sister fell on each other's shoulders. Yowling Boris bolted into the nearest unsinged shrubbery. Melissande barely spared him a glance.

  'Rupes, are you all right?' she demanded tearfully.

  'I'm fine. Oh, Melly! Thank God you're unhurt, I was so frightened for you. I was frightened for me'

  'So was I, Rupert!' Her hand pressed against his grimy face. 'You're really here? I'm not imagining this?'

  'No, no, I'm really here.' He captured her hand in his and held on to it, tight. 'Melly, can you believe it? A dragon? I thought dragons were made up, I thought — '

  Melissande sighed. 'They are. It's a long story. Listen, Rupert — '

  Not paying attention, he looked at the bodies scattered around them. His dirty, foolish face crumpled. 'Oh, Melly… our people…' His breath caught on a sob and he pointed. 'That's Swifty, Mel. I can tell by his socks, I gave him those socks for his last birthday. He used to help me with the butterflies, sometimes, on his day off.'

  'I know, I know' Her voice was ragged. 'Don't look, Rupert.'

  'And that's Arabella, from the kitchens,' he continued, heedless. 'She always saved me a brown egg for breakfast. Oh, Mel — ' i'm sorry, Rupert,' said Melissande. i couldn't save them. I couldn't save anyone.'

  'Neither could I,' said Rupert, equally anguished. 'When I tried, the dragon burned down my butterfly house.' i saw.' She cupped her palm to his cheek again. 'Oh, Rupert, all your little pretties…'

  He shook his head. There were tears in his eyes, it's nothing, they weren't people…' Then his expression hardened. Abruptly he looked older and nowhere near as foolish.'This was Lional, wasn't it?' 'Yes,' she whispered. 'Rupert — '

  But he wasn't listening. He was staring past her at the mass of Kallarapi warriors. 'What's this, Melly? Why are they here? What's going on?'Without giving her a chance to answer he marched across the grass and the gravel to confront the invading Kallarapi, ignoring his sister's warning plea.

  'Greetings, Your Highness,' Zazoor said calmly as Rupert stamped to a halt before him. it is good to see you again, although the circumstances are — '

  Rupert waved away the pleasantries. 'Look, Zazoor, if you've come for a wedding I'm afraid I've bad news. It's nothing personal so don't be offended but — '

  Gerald cleared his throat, it's all right, Rupert. The sultan's not marrying Melissande.'

  All the determination drained from Rupert's face, returning it to foolish uncertainty.'He's not?' 'No.' Rupert frowned. 'Then who is he marrying?'

  'Trust me, Rupert,' said Zazoor, revealing his teeth in a smile. 'When the gods have decided you'll be the third to know' 'Then what are you doing here? With an armyV

  Before Zazoor could tell him, one of Kallarap's warriors shouted, pointing. 'Draconi! DraconiV Lional's dragon was coming.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  It danced in the distance like a butterfly, crimson and emerald scales flashing fire. Flirting with treetops, kissing their crowns with flame, it cavorted without care, its enormous wings shivering snaps of sound from the air that floated towards them, thunder on the horizon.

  As everyone else stared at the damned thing, stunned into silence, Gerald grabbed Monk's elbow and tugged him aside.

  'Listen. It'll reach us in a minute or two so there's not much time. You've got to portal back to Ottosland. Take Melissande, Rupert and Reg with you and — '

  Monk stared. 'Leave you here alone with that thing? And Lional? I don't think so!' 'Out of the question, sunshine,' Reg added.

  'What's going on?' demanded Melissande, joining them. Rupert hovered by her side, his dirty face drawn, his gaze darting between his sister and the dragon. 'Monk's getting you out of here,' he said. She snorted. 'No, he's not.' 'Who's Monk?' said Rupert. 'I am,' said Monk. 'Pleased to meet you, Your Highness.'

  Rupert looked bewildered. 'Yes. Certainly. I'm sorry, I don't understand…'

  Gerald growled. 'He'll explain it later. In Ottosland. Monk — '

  'I can't go to Ottosland, Gerald,' Rupert objected. 'There's a murderous dragon loose in my kingdom.' 'I know. And I'll take care of it.'

  'How?' demanded Melissande. 'Look at the thing, half a mile away and it's still enormous!'

  Shaking his head Rupert bleated, 'Really, Gerald, I can't leave now, I — '

  He raised his hand, fingers widespread. 'Impedimentia assolutaY

  Melissande and Rupert froze in mid-protest, voices silenced.

  'Whoops,' said Reg. 'They're not going to like that, sunshine.'

  Too had. 'So long as they're alive to not like it I really don't care!' he retorted. 'Monk, listen. You have to go. Get the Department off its backside, and the UMN. Raise merry hell till somebody does something. Melissande, Rupert and Reg can help you, foreign royalty always gets attention. Come back with help, lots of it, as fast as you can.'

  'And in the meantime?' said Monk. He'd gone very pale.

  In the meantime, I die. 'I'll do what I can to keep Lional and his dragon preoccupied. Stop them from hurting anyone else. But you'd better hurry, mate. So go. Now. Please!

  Monk pulled the portable portal out of his pocket. His hand was unsteady. 'Dunnywood, for the record, I'm telling you this is a bad idea.'

  He tried to smile and couldn't. 'Probably. Monk — '

  With a hiccuping sob Reg threw herself into his arms. 'No, no, I'm not leaving you, Gerald! You need me! I can help you!'

  Tenderly he lifted her to eye level. She felt suddenly small and fragile, a frantically beating heart inside a brittle cage of feather and bone. 'Darling Reg,' he whispered, and kissed her. i'm sorry but you can't. Not any more. Now if you love me… leave!

  'Gerald…' she protested helplessly as he returned her to Monk's shoulder. 'All set,' his friend said. 'Ready when you are.'

  He nodded. 'Take care of each other, you two. And our royal friends. Don't let them boss you. And Monk?'

  'What?' said Monk, wrapping one arm round Melissande, the other round Rupert and triggering the portal.'Gerald, what?'

  He undid the immobility incant. Dredged up a smile. 'Good luck with the princess. You're going to need it.' The portal opened and they disappeared.

  Zazoor said, 'Wizard, that was honourably done.'

  The stern voice released Gerald from his trance. He let out his pent-up breath,
the relief so great it was like a pain. They're safe, they're safe, thank God, they're safe. Whatever life was left to him now, be it hours or minutes or scant swift seconds, at least he could face it with some kind of peace. His friends wouldn't pay the price for his myriad failures.

  He turned and looked at Kallarap s sultan. 'You think I'm the kind of man who'd let one more innocent life be lost if he could prevent it?'

  Shugat fingered his staff. 'The kind of man you are is yet to be revealed,' he said before Zazoor could reply.

  The dragon was almost on top of them now, flames and smoke billowing in its wake. The clear air trembled.

  He sneered. 'What's that, Shugat? More of your gods' wisdom?' 'Yes.'

  Damn the holy man and his cryptic utterances. He took a step towards Zazoor. 'Magnificence, don't listen to him. That dragon's dangerous, you — '

  'Oh lookV cried a lilting voice, it's a party and we weren't invited. Do you know, we think our feelings are hurt'. Lional.

  Cold with inevitability, Gerald looked to Shugat and the sultan. Unmoved, they watched Lional make his suave, insinuating way through the ruined flowerbeds to the edge of the carriageway where grass met gravel.

  He turned to Zazoor, the blood pounding in his head. 'This is your last chance. Help me. Please!

  Unmoved, unmoving, Zazoor sat on his ebony war camel and stared down at his holy man. Shugat inspected the tip of his staff, leathered face creased in thought, then glanced up at Zazoor. After a moment of silent communion they closed their eyes. So. I'm alone.

  Something… some hope or belief or faith in the ultimate goodness of man… broke inside him. Bled swiftly, quietly, flooding all the cracks and chasms of his soul.

  Lional laughed. 'Gerald, Gerald. Why are you surprised? Didn't we tell you they're a dreadful bunch?'

  He snapped his fingers… and in a beating of wings, with a hissing song of welcome, the dragon touched lightly to the ground at his side. Sunlight trembled on its scarlet and emerald scales, striking sparks from the diamond-bright sheen of its spines. Poison, green and glowing, oozed from each razor-sharp tip. Dripped harmlessly down the dragon's brilliant striped hide and Lional's green silk arm. Fell to the ground… which at its touch dissolved in a cloud of noxious smoke.