There was a bright flash behind her.
‘Whoops, there goes another one. I must just see if we can ask a grieving relative how they feel...’
I switched off the television and looked at my watch.
‘It’s time for you to go home.’
‘I am home.’
‘Me too,’ I replied. ‘I mean it’s time to stop work.’
‘I knew what you meant, it’s just that even with everyone in the building except you hating me—’
‘Quark.’
‘Sorry, everyone except you and the Quarkbeast hating me, I just wanted you to know that I’ve never been happier. But can I ask you something?’
‘Sure.’
‘What did happen to Mr Zambini?’
I looked across at him. If I couldn’t trust him now, I couldn’t trust him ever.
‘Okay, here it is, but you must promise not to tell any of the others. You should know that the Great Zambini was once one of the best. I use his redundant accolade out of respect. When he was young and powerful he held the magicians’ world teleport record of eighty-five miles, although unofficially he had managed well over a hundred. He could conjure up showers of fish, and manipulate matter to a level that would make Moobin’s lead-into-gold escapade seem like kitchen chemistry. He paid for the Towers personally, and gathered together the sorcerers within to try to keep the spirit of the Mystical Arts alive, even when he knew that wizidrical powers were fading. He gave everything he had to Kazam. He would work every hour of the day and night, and I with him. He was like a father to me. Kind, generous, hard working, and utterly committed not just to his calling, but to protecting and supporting those within it.’
‘It sounds like he was an honourable man.’
‘He was. But still money was short, and he was forced to do the one thing that sorcerers should never do. An act of such gross betrayal of his art that if it was made common knowledge his reputation would be destroyed for ever and he would die a broken man, humiliated and shunned by his peers.’
‘You mean—?’
‘Right. He did children’s parties.’
Tiger put his hand over his mouth.
‘He lowered himself, for them? For Lady Mawgon and Moobin and those batty sisters whose name I can’t remember?’
‘All of them. He used to do the events out of town, of course, and in disguise. Simple stuff: rabbits out of hats, card tricks, minor levitation. But one afternoon he must have had a surge. He vanished in a puff of green smoke during his finale. Hasn’t come back.’
‘So when you said he’d disappeared, you really meant it.’
‘Totally. He’ll spontaneously reappear eventually, but I have no idea where, or when. I can’t get the others to help because I’d have to reveal what he’d been up to, and I can’t see the old man humiliated. On the plus side, the kids thought he was great, and a standing ovation from five-year-olds is not to be sniffed at.’
‘But that’s not the whole story, is it?’ said Tiger, holding up a battered copy of Simpkin’s Foundling Law.
‘No,’ I replied. ‘Until he comes back or is declared dead or lost, he can’t sign us out of our indentured servitude. Technically speaking, we’re here until we die.’
Tiger closed the book.
‘That’s what I thought.’
‘He’ll come back,’ I assured him, ‘or failing that, I’ll confess everything and we’ll have him declared lost. In any event, I’ve still got four years to run, and you’ve got nine. Lots can happen.’
I smiled at him and he smiled back. It was my way of telling him not to worry, and his way of agreeing that he shouldn’t.
‘I’m going to go and see Moobin,’ I told him. ‘I need to know how the wizards are feeling. Keep well away from Lady Mawgon and I’ll see you later.’
Big Magic
I found Wizard Moobin in his room. He had repaired the door, but was still busy tidying up his room after the explosion. There was almost nothing unbroken. The power of magic can be devastating when uncontrolled. He was there with Half Price, Full Price’s very similar little brother. They were so similar, in fact, that I often wondered about the fact that you never saw them together. There was someone else in the room, too, someone I didn’t recognise.
‘Ah,’ said Moobin when he saw me, ‘it’s you. This is Mr Stamford, a lapsed sorcerer from Mercia. He’ll be staying with me for a few days. Mr Stamford, this is Jennifer Strange.’
Stamford was a sallow man with greasy hair. He peered at me cautiously and shook my hand.
‘You’re here because of the Dragondeath?’ I asked.
‘I think so,’ he replied after a moment’s thought. ‘You know that feeling when you go into a room and then can’t remember what it is you’re there for?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s exactly like that. I don’t know why I’m here, I just feel that I should be.’
And he fell silent.
‘He’s the third to arrive since this morning,’ said Wizard Moobin. He paused for a moment. ‘Tiger Prawns was out of order doing what he did, you know.’
‘I know. He was doing it to stop me resigning.’
‘It was noble, I grant you that. We respect honour. Sadly, Lady Mawgon doesn’t. She wanted to have you both replaced and asked Mother Zenobia to send a shortlist of new foundlings so we could start interviewing.’
‘That’s not how it works.’
‘It’s how Lady Mawgon works.’
‘What happened?’
‘Mother Zenobia told her they’d run out.’
I smiled. Mother Zenobia had hundreds of foundlings, but she was supporting Tiger and myself by telling Lady Mawgon there weren’t any. It must have made Mawgon even more angry.
‘So what’s she doing now?’
‘Lady Mawgon? Marching around the corridors gnashing her teeth, I expect. If ever there was a time to go and hide, this might be it.’
It seemed a good time to tell Moobin what had happened. He was, after all, the sorcerer I got on best with, and Mr Zambini’s successor, if there was one.
‘I’m the last Dragonslayer.’
‘Yes,’ said Moobin, ‘I saw it on the news. You’re no longer a bystander, Jennifer, you’re a player.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed, ‘but how?’
Moobin took out his Shandarmeter and turned it on. I looked over his shoulder as the small needle bobbed against the scale.
‘The background wizidrical radiation has risen almost tenfold since yesterday,’ he mused. ‘I’ve never seen anything quite like it.’
‘Is that why you’re here?’ I asked Brother Stamford. ‘Like moths to a light?’
Stamford answered by firing a shimmering globe from his fingertip that buzzed round the room before vanishing.
‘I couldn’t do that yesterday,’ he announced. ‘You may joke about Big Magic, but it’s real and it’s true and it’s going to happen very soon.’
‘But what is it?’ I asked.
They both looked at one another. Wizard Moobin was the one who answered.
‘There was a time before magic, and there will be a time when magic has gone. In between those times the power of magic will ebb and flow like the tide. But like it or not there will come a day when the tide will recede and never return—the power of magic will vanish for ever.’
‘But that’s unthinkable!’
‘It’s not all bad. There is always an opportunity to rekindle that spark and bring the tide of power back into flood—and with the flood bring on renewal. Renewal of the power of magic.’