Jinx On The Divide (28 page)

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not have my wand, but I think I could just about strangle you if I put my mind to it. You're fairly securely trussed-up."

He had a point. "OK," said Grimspite. "I'm listening."

"When you jerked me out of my coma with that power-word," said Snakeweed, "I felt absolutely ghastly. It was the middle of the night, and I was completely alone. After a while I managed to crawl out of the four-poster bed and look around. They'd turned me into an
exhibit."
He looked disgusted.

"I know," said Grimspite.

"Posters on the walls, a glass case full of Global Panaceas' products, some imitation sinistrom stones, and a very good painting of you."

"I never visited."

"Wouldn't have expected you to. Anyway, I tottered downstairs, intending to look at the fire-breather timetable and see when the next one left for Tiratattle. That's when I started to cough -- coughed so much I threw up -- and I knew I was really sick."

The cage shuddered and clanked, and Grimspite felt queasy enough to empathize more strongly than he might otherwise have done.

"This tangle-person came over," Snakeweed continued. "Fully qualified wisewoman, examined me there and then. Told me she was sorry, but I didn't have long to live."

"Ah," said Grimspite. News like that could be just as life-changing as losing your pebble.

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"There was nothing she could prescribe, either. I sat there for a long time, until the sun rose, thinking. There wasn't a direct fire-breather to Tiratattle, but there was one to Andria, so I caught that, intending to change and get the express. But when I read the in-flight magazine, I realized that the true seat of power had shifted to Yergud, so I switched nights. Imagine my surprise when you turned out to be one of the passengers."

"You had the chance to kill me when we crash-landed. Why didn't you?"

"Because I'm not the same person anymore. It wasn't a you-or-me situation, either, the way it was down in the cave. You see, I started to see things differently. When you don't have a future, power becomes rather pointless -- and you look at what you're going to leave behind instead. In my case, it was a pile of misery. I started to wonder whether it would be possible to do something about it."

"That's the way I felt," said Grimspite. "I decided to write a book to show that not all sinistroms were monsters."

There was a moment of silence.

Then Snakeweed said, "I'd better untie you," and he removed the wire muzzle. The hobbles were a bit trickier because of the dark, but Grimspite could now help things along with his teeth. Any lingering doubts he had about Snakeweed's intentions toward himself had now gone -- although Snakeweed's intentions toward the rest of the world might be more questionable. Presumably, any doubts

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Snakeweed had about Grimspite would go the same way when Grimspite didn't disembowel him.

There was a pause, during which no one disemboweled anyone.

"Someone recited another powerword yesterday," said Snakeweed.

Oh, dear. "That'd be Felix."

"He's over here again?"

"Yes. He's got a jinx box -- the one that was used to store the Common Language. He was supposed to destroy it, though."

"Good intentions, but
so
naive when it comes to magic," said Snakeweed. "There is something useful
we
could do, though."

"What?" asked Grimspite. He thought he could see a faint glimmer of gray above. He was desperate to get out of the elevator; he hated it.

"Make those rock paintings public knowledge. Turn the caves into a major attraction. Show everyone that japegrins and tangle-folk and diggelucks and lickits are related."

"And ragamuckies." It was definitely getting lighter. Grimspite felt his spirits lift slightly.

"Are you with me?" asked Snakeweed. "I imagine you're going straight back to the library. You could publicize it. The library has the right sort of prestige."

Grimspite could see Snakeweed's face now. He didn't look very well. "Yes, all right," said Grimspite, and he transformed

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himself back into a lickit -- and just in time, too, for daylight flooded the cage and they found themselves aboveground.

The guard was standing at the pit head, accompanied by another japegrin, wands at the ready.

"You don't need those," said Snakeweed.

"That's a sinistrom," said the guard, aiming his wand at Grimspite.

"No, it's not," said Snakeweed. "There's another entrance. The sinistrom escaped. This is a famous cookbook author.
Dining Out on Mythical Beasts?"

The japegrins looked at each other.

"That pomegranate sauce recipe?" queried the guard.

"First, disembowel your cluck-bird," said Grimspite, quoting his most famous dish, "and hack it into four pieces ..."

"That's the one," said the guard. "Substituted a lesser spotted tease for the cluck-bird, but it was still delicious." He gave a tentative sniff, but the wind was blowing the wrong way, and Grimspite's shadow-reek didn't reach him.

"What was he doing down in the mine, then?" asked the second japegrin.

"He's going to be my restaurant adviser," said Snakeweed. "You see, we're going to turn this place into a theme park, just like the castle in the forest."

Not
just
like the castle in the forest,
thought Grimspite.
This is going to be educational, not profit-oriented.

The japegrins looked at each other again.

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"There are some wonderful rock paintings down there," enthused Snakeweed. "Everyone should be able to see them. And there's this other opening, farther down the mountain, that would make access a lot easier. It needs a proper entrance. I'm on my way to Yergud now, to get hold of some diggelucks to get things moving. Wand," he added, snapping his fingers at the guard. "I lost mine down below. Thanks. Fire-breather saddled and ready to go?"

The japegrins nodded.

"You can drop me off on the other side of the hedge," said Grimspite to Snakeweed, as they climbed aboard. "Ironclaw's waiting for me. Nice idea, by the way. The theme-park thingy."

"I thought so," said Snakeweed.

"You ought to find yourself a fish supplier for the restaurant while you're in the area. Vattan's world famous for it."

Snakeweed nodded, and coughed again.

"I don't quite know how to put this," said Grimspite. "But ... er ... how long do you have?"

"No idea," said Snakeweed. "That's why I want to get on with the theme-park idea as fast as possible."

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***

16

***

Scoffit landed in the main square in Kaflabad, outside Ziggurat Three, and looked around in astonishment. The buildings were totally different from anything she'd ever seen before. Tier after tier, placed on top of one another in descending size. Then a balcony, or a ledge -- wide enough to accommodate fruit trees and flowering shrubs and the occasional restaurant -- until you reached the main building, which was perched at the top, like a nest.

"It's nice here," said Scoffit. She breathed in the scent of the waxy orange flowers that tumbled down in extravagant clusters from the first balcony. Underlying this was a faint reek of decay, which pleased her to no end. It was so hot here that waste disposal would be a well-respected profession.

"It's a long way up," said Goodbody, clutching his lamp in one hand and shading his eyes with the other as he looked up at the headquarters of K'Faddle & Offspring, eight stories above him.

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There was a notice at the foot of the first set of stairs that read: no triple-heads, magic carpets, brazzles, or carrionwings beyond this point.

"I'll wait for you," said Scoffit. There was a fountain a little way off that had a drinking trough at its base, in some nice dappled shade beneath a stand of palm trees.

By the time Brad Goodbody had climbed the steps to the first story, he could see that Scoffit had her head under her wing. By the time he climbed to the second level, he could swear that he could hear her snoring. He carried on toward the third set of stairs, passed the time of day with a couple of fruit trees, and shared a rather good joke about turning over a new leaf with a succulent that bore a strong resemblance to one in his greenhouse.

When he reached the third level, he passed a nomad, coming down the other way. The nomad was holding a crystal ball, and he looked absolutely furious. He glanced at Goodbody's magic lamp and said, "If you think they'll give you a refund, you've got another think coming."

Goodbody pointed to the crystal ball and said, "Problems?"

"Shows what's happening on the other side of the world instead of the future," said the nomad. "What's the use of that? I wanted to place a bet on next week's Textile Trophy. There's a couple of magic carpets that have caught my eye, but they're not sure things." And he stalked off.

Something that showed what was happening elsewhere would be extremely useful, you fool,
thought Goodbody, remembering the

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television news broadcasts Rhino had boasted about in the other world. Television had a lot in common with crystal balls, now that he thought about it. Television predicted the weather and told people whether to take their raincoats with them.

He continued climbing but, to his horror, he found himself out of breath. He stood there, his ribs heaving, absolutely terrified. Just how long was this body going to last? It wasn't until someone else stopped from a similar cause and smiled at him that he realized panting was a normal reaction.

Another level up and another dissatisfied customer, carrying a cracked scrying bowl. He glanced at Goodbody's lamp. "Brandee been giving you trouble, has he?" he inquired.

"He's disappeared," said Goodbody uncomfortably, unable to think of anything else to say on the spur of the moment.

"There's been a lot of that the last couple of days. There's a rumor that someone somewhere used a powerword, though that bunch ..." He jerked his thumb at the building at the top of the ziggurat. "That bunch is denying it. Naturally." He then called K'Faddle & Offspring something unprintable, and went on his way.

Goodbody continued up the staircase. Two more people passed him, both carrying lamps not dissimilar to his own. By the time he reached the top, he had encountered no fewer than nine angry customers.

The building that was the company's headquarters looked as though it was made of the same material as a jinx box --

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the watered-silk effect was impressive, and the colors changed as you approached it. Goodbody pulled the tail of the alarm-bell-bird, and was surprised to hear his favorite bangithard soloist executing a complicated but catchy riff.
Of course,
he thought,
you hear what you want to hear.
The place is a showcase for magic of every sort.

The silken wall split open like a ripe fruit, and he entered the building. A creature with an orange carapace and five sets of pincers turned its stalked eyes toward him and said, "Welcome to K'Faddle and Offspring. How can I help you?"

The brandee-that-was suddenly realized that telling the truth would be most unwise: He had developed free will, so he would be instantly fumigated. He noticed a state-of-the-art wand stuck in the creature's belt, and a couple of feelers of uncertain function on its forehead. He told the receptionist that he had bought the lamp at an auction and been cheated. The brandee had vanished, but the paperwork that had come with the lamp spoke of a library and a greenhouse. Could these, at least, be redeemed?

The receptionist nodded, and agreed to have the lamp gutted as long as the shell remained with the makers for refurbishment afterward and Goodbody gave up all claim to it.

Goodbody agreed. The whole procedure would take several days, during which time he needed to buy a house with sufficient space for all his books and plants -- not to mention a nice hollow tree trunk, suitable for a carrionwing. Feeling

286

pleased with the outcome, he left the building and went back to Scoffit. "We're going house hunting," he said.

After a few disappointments, they found a courtyard house built around just the right kind of garden for Goodbody's plants. The hollow tree would have to be imported, but that wasn't a problem -- there was quite a wide choice in the catalogue. There was space for a large library, and a first-class restaurant was a short stroll away. Goodbody intended to make up for lost time as far as food and drink were concerned.

"It's all turned out rather well, hasn't it?" he said to the carrionwing.

"I think we should drink a toast," said Scoffit. "I thought you ate toast?"

"Not this toast," said Scoffit, pouring two large fermented fertle juices.

When Felix woke up the next morning, he forgot where he was for a moment. He was warm and comfortable, and the Pink Harpoon's feather mattress was surprisingly soft -- so soft he felt as though he were floating. He could have stayed in bed for a lot longer, but he knew there was something important he had to do.... He opened his eyes.

"Morning, Felix," said Nimby, sounding far too bright and lively. "Fuzzy's gone off on an early morning hunt, but she shouldn't be too long. I'm just about to pop out for a