Me? Wliat the hell? The tightness in his chest increased almost to suffocation point. 'Forgive me, Your Majesty. I'm afraid I don't follow you. I am but one man. I can't defeat an army.'
Lional stopped walking and skewered him with a stare.'But you're not a man, Gerald. You're a wizard]
Oh… bugger. Of course. Of course. 'Actually, Your Majesty, I'm both.'
A heartbeat's pause, then Lional started circling again. 'I'm only interested in the wizard. Take my advice, Gerald: put the man in a box, lock it and throw away the key. He'll only get in our way'
He took a deep, painful breath and let it out slowly.' Our way, sir?' 'Yes, Gerald. I'm asking you to join me.' 'Join you? In… conquering Kallarap?'
'In creating a kingdom the likes of which this world has never seen,' said Lional. 'In driving New Ottosland to the very pinnacle of international power and prestige where she has always deserved to be! Every king of New Ottosland before me was a weakling, a coward, a slave to tiny dreams! Not I! This Lional is a visionary. This Lional has greatness. This Lional is man to be reckoned with!'
As his voice rose higher and louder, the panting black and tan hounds surged to their teet and howled, refusing to lie down again until he kicked them into cowering submission.
'Well, Gerald?' he demanded, once the hounds were subdued around him. 'Will you join me? I know you possess the ambition, I can see it in your eyes! You think you hide it but you're mistaken, my friend! We're cut from the same cloth, we hunger for the same things. You're no more for a small life than I am, Professor! You have dreams too, of glory, of greatness! Don't dare to deny it for I'll know you're lying!'
Gerald felt his face heat. Ambition wasn't a crime… so why did it sound shameful when Lional talked of it?
Because his ambition demands the subjugation — the destruction — of anyone or anything standing in his way.
He looked at the forest floor, afraid Lional would read the thought in his eyes, where he'd already read too much for comfort or safety.
'Well, Gerald?' Lional said softly. 'What do you say?'
/ say you're mad, you're crazy, you're stark staring bonkers. He kept his gaze lowered, hoping Lional would take it for humility. 'Your Majesty, speech is almost beyond me. The honour — the trust — where do I begin?'
'By saying yes, Gerald. Say yes and I'll make you the most powerful man in New Ottosland after myself. No pitiful rules. No pathetic regulations. Your word will be law. And the Scunthorpes of this world will be as dust beneath your feet.' His head snapped up. 'Scunthorpes?'
Now Lional's smile was wicked with mischief. 'Foolish fellow. Did you think I'd grant you access to my court without knowing exactly who you are? An hour after our first meeting I knew everything about you, Gerald. Where you were born. Went to school. Qualified as a wizard. Your first job. Your second job. Your disaster at Stuttley's. None of it matters. You made me a lion]
And see where that pride, that folly, had led him. When he could trust his voice he said, 'Your Majesty is too kind.'
More laughter. 'Kind? Kings can't afford to be kind. Now answer my question.'
Will you join me? How could he possibly join Lional? Help him force Melissande into an unwanted marriage — conspire with him to destroy the Kallarapi — and after that, who knew?
But I started this, God help me, and then I kept it going. So if the only way to heat Lional is to join him…
He bowed, so deeply his nose nearly touched his knees. 'I would be honoured to join you, Your Majesty.'
'How honoured?' said Lional, regarding him playfully. Now what? 'Your Majesty?' 'Honoured enough to make me a dragon?'
'A dragon,' he said blankly, after a long pause. 'Your Majesty, dragons don't exist.'
'Ah, but Gerald, they doV replied Lional, exultant. 'They exist in our imaginations. And what can be imagined can be created. After all, you turned my cat into a lion. Now you can turn a lizard into a dragon. I have the perfect specimen, as it happens, all ready and waiting.' 'Your Majesty — '
'Now, now, don't go getting coy on me, Gerald! And don't try telling me you can't do it, either, for I shan't believe you.' A dragon? Why the hell would Lional want a -
Oh hell. Oh no. The third and final deity of Kallarap, mightier than the other two put together. Grimthak, whose earthly form manifested as a dragon. What have I done?
This was his fault, all of it. If he hadn't been so desperate to stay in New Ottosland, to prove he was brilliant, if he hadn't turned Tavistock into a lion then Lional would never have hatched this plan. Or even if he did, without Tavistock-the-lion, without Reg at his fingertips, he could never put it into action. If one person dies over this I'll be a murderer.
No matter what happened he must never give Lional what he wanted. He must never turn anything into a dragon.
'I'm sorry, Your Majesty,' he said, pouring as much regret into his voice as he could muster. 'I'm afraid I'm not good enough for that kind of magic'
Lional slid a hand into his breeches pocket. 'On the contrary, Gerald. I'm afraid you're far too good.'
He frowned. There was a note in Lional's voice that he'd never heard before. Gone was the petulance. The peevishness. The volatile good humour. The handsome face was suddenly older. Grimmer. Suddenly Lional's face was frightening.
He felt himself take an unintended step backwards. His heart was beating so hard he felt sick. 'You knew all along I had no intention of joining you.'
Lional laughed. At his feet his hunting hounds whimpered. 'Of course. It's true you have ambition — just not enough. Or the right kind. But it was amusing watching you try to pretend. A piece of advice, Gerald: don't go on the stage. I'm afraid as an actor you make a very fine wizard.'
His heart pounded brutally against his ribs. 'Are you mad, then? Or are you evil?'
Lional shrugged. 'I'm both. Or neither. It's not significant. They're just words, Gerald. Hot air. Blah blah blah.' 'You must know I'm oath-bound to stop you.'
Another shrug. 'You're oath-bound to fry.' Lional's lip curled, sneering. 'You orthodox wizards, you're all the same. Cowards. Hidebound by rules and regulations. Rigidly unadventurous. Suffering from a catastrophic failure of imagination. Incapable of seeing past your oaths and your artificially imposed boundaries to what is possible. Just once I wish I could meet a wizard who — '
Without warning and with blinding speed he pulled his hand from his pocket and threw something, very hard and very fast.
Gerald flinched. Pure, unthinking reflex raised his hand, outstretched his fingers, curled them around the flying missile… Oh my God!
… and he was caught, trapped in a web with strands of metaphysical steel. He could breathe, move his eyes, but that was all. He couldn't run. He felt his fingers convulse around the thrown lump of rock… and then he cried out, assaulted by a tornado of dreadful images and excruciating pain. Faces screaming. Flame-licked bodies writhing. Greasy smoke spiralling into the air. And Lional, his golden face a glowing mask of power…
'I must say, Gerald, it's rather a pity you have to die,' said Lional, plucking the rock from his nerveless grasp. 'There are a number of incantations requiring the involvement of two wizards that I'd really like to try and you're the first wizard I've met who could manage them. Ah well. Life is full of small disappointments. I'll just have to console myself with the taking of your formidable powers.' A gentle hand reached out and patted him on the cheek. 'I expect you're wishing you'd made me that dragon now, aren't you?'
Speech was beyond him, his mind and will held as fast as his body. But inside the confines of his skull he was screaming.
/'// kill you… I'll kill you… you bastard, I'll kill you…
'Useful little gadget, this, don't you think?' Lional said brightly, tossing the rock from hand to elegant hand. 'It's called a Wizard Trap. An appropriate title, don't you agree? I made it courtesy of an interesting little book I — well, let's just say I inherited it.'