The Accidental sorcerer

He retreated to the bedroom armchair and threw himself into it.'What about him?' 'He's missing.' 'No, he's not!'

'That Markham boy says no-one's heard from him in months,' she retorted. 'In my book that's called missing.' She sniffed. 'But in yours, apparently, it's called wilfully disregarding the facts.'

'What facts? There are no facts! There's just you having some kind of mid-life crisis!'

She fixed him with a gimlet glare. 'Trust me, sunshine, when I'm having a crisis you'll be the first to know. Now wake up your crystal ball and call that Markham boy. Tell him what's happened around here in the last day and see if he doesn't agree with me. And while you're at it, see if he knows how many more of Lional's ex-court wizards have disappeared.'

He drummed his heels into the carpet. 'Reg…' But it was depressingly clear from the look on her face that she'd give him no rest until he indulged her, so he stamped to the workshop, activated the crystal ball… and completely failed to get a call through to Monk.

'Did you get the address right?' said Reg, flapping from the bench to Gerald's shoulder. 'Try the wretched thing again.' 'Yes of course I got the address right,' he said, teeth gritted.'And I was just about to try again.' He did. Still nothing.

'Maybe it's the ball,' said Reg. There was just the faintest hint of panic in her voice. 'It's an old ball, Gerald, it was fourth or fifth hand when you got it and it's taken a bashing in the last few years. Try it again.Third time lucky'

'Or unlucky, as the case may be,' he said a moment later, staring at the inert lump of crystal in front of him.'Now what?'

Reg clattered her beak. 'Now we sneak into Madam Fashion Plate's office and use her crystal ball.'

'Why sneak? Why don't I just go and ask Melissande — '

'Because she's being guarded under lock and key, remember? We don't have time to fart about with all that. Being underhand is faster.' 'What about my breakfast?'

'Bugger your breakfast, Gerald!' snapped Reg, launching herself into the air. 'We have to get cracking. I've got a very bad feeling about this!'

Groaning, he followed her out of the workshop. 'Wait, Reg, I really need my breakfast!'

But she was already on her way to the foyer, so he shoved his sockless feet into his shoes and hurried to join her. 'You'll have to pick the lock,' said Reg, as he rattled Melissande's office door-handle. 'Quick, before a lackey comes along.'

Gerald rolled his eyes. 'A lackey would be useful, Reg. I could ask them to let us in.'

'At this hour of the morning?' she snapped. 'Go on, you know how to diddle it. Stop dithering and get us inside!'

He turned his head to stare at her nose to beak. ' What has gotten into you?' 'I told you. I've got a very bad feeling.'

'So have I,' he muttered, and sprung the lock with a word and snap of his fingers.'Doctors call it dangerously low blood sugar.'They slipped into the office. 'So where's the crystal ball?' he whispered, staring at Melissandes desk. 'It was right there, she was using it as a paperweight.'

'Search me,' said Reg. 'She must've had an unexpected fit of tidiness and put it away somewhere. Start looking.'

If Melissande finds out about this she's going to kill me. He hunted in the cupboards, behind the books in the bookcases and in the filing cabinets. Opened all the desk drawers, including the ones that were locked, and nearly bit his tongue at what he found in the last. 'Reg!' 'You've found it? Excellent!'

'No,' he said, and held up a book bound in dimpled red leather.'But I found this!'

'Gerald,' said Reg severely. 'We don't have time for reading!'

'It's a textbook,' he said, flipping open the cover. 'Monk's sister Emmerabiblia's got the same one. Melissande's been studying witchcraft!'

'So she's got a hobby! At least it's not butterflies! Now is that crystal ball in here or not?'

'Not,' he said, tucking the textbook under his arm.

'Maybe she took it with her when Lional locked her in her apartments,' said Reg. 'We'd better go and ask her.'

'How can we ask her? Guard, lock and key, remember?'

'So we get rid of the guard, unlock the doors and then we ask her.' 'I don't know which part of the palace she lives in.'

Reg groaned. 'That bang on the head really rattled your marbles, didn't it? You've got her textbook, haven't you? Use it!'

Oh. Right. Feeling like an idiot he spread his fingers flat against the book's cover and closed his eyes.'Locatio Melissande anuxi.' An answering tingle of energy ran through his hand. The book quivered and tugged. 'All set,' he said, and headed for the door. 'Let's go.'

Melissande's suite of rooms was four staircases and three corridors away from her office. The good news was that only one guard stood sentinel. The bad news was that he was young and athletic. But if the expression on his face was anything to go by he was also bored to sobs and therefore not inclined to be a martyr to his job. Back to good again.

Reg nipped Gerald's ear. 'Come on, then. Get rid of him.'

Ducking back around the corner before the guard noticed them, Gerald shoved the book under one arm and wrestled with his conscience. He wasn't going to hurt the man, not really. Creating an illusion of discomfort wasn't the same as actually hurting someone. And it was in a good cause. An excellent cause. If the guard knew how he was helping his kingdom he'd probably volunteer.

Reg bounced on his shoulder. 'Gerald] What are you waiting for?'

He took a deep breath and peered around the corner. The guard was still there, scratching his armpit. Softly, Gerald let out his held breath and with it the hex a very tipsy Monk had once invented as a practical joke.

'What's happening, what's happening?' Reg demanded. 'Shh,' he hissed. 'Any second now…'

The guard, who had short black hair, pimples and an impressive pair of biceps, stopped looking bored and started looking puzzled. After a moment puzzlement grew to unease. He began to shift himself from one foot to the other and back again as his brows knitted tighter and his hands bunched into fists.

Half a minute later he was trying to cross his legs without falling over. Half a minute after that he uttered an anguished moan and fled.

'Right!' With Reg clinging to his shoulder Gerald rushed to the double doors of Melissande's apartments, opened them, eased through the gap and locked them again. Then he turned to see exactly where they were.

Reg groaned. 'Oh my deary gracious me. What is this, a boudoir or a second-hand bookshop?'

'Well technically, Reg, it's a foyer… but I know what you mean. Blimey!'

Floor to ceiling, from one side of the room to the other, the walls were lined with bookshelves, and the bookshelves were crammed with books. Thick books, thin books, yellow and red and brown and blue books, old books and new. They were piled on the floor as well, little towers of books listing alarmingly to port and starboard. Somewhere beneath all the clutter were a few scattered rugs, faded and threadbare. Reg sneezed. 'That girl is beyond redemption!'

The girl in question walked through an open doorway on the far side of the foyer, head down and nose in a book as she came.

Reg sneezed again. 'You really weren't joking when you said you didn't want to get married! Well I don't think you've got too much to worry about, ducky.This lot's better than a chastity belt!'

Melissande's head snapped up and she froze mid-stride. ' Youl How did you two get in? You didn't do something awful to Ronnie, did you?'

Gerald hid the textbook behind his back. If she'd just turn around for a moment he could stick it on a pile with some others and she'd never know he'd had it… 'Ronnie? You mean the guard?'

'No, the pot plant in the corner. Of course the guard. What have you done with him?' 'You're on first-name terms with your guard?'

'Please. He's two months younger than I am and we've known each other all our lives. Now stop trying to weasel out of answering the question! Did you do something awful to him?'