The Last Dragonslayer Read Free Page A

they can be quite sweet, too.’
    ‘Is that the speech?’
    I stared at him for a moment. His lips were pursed and he was staring up at me indignantly. I’d been angry my first day, too. But probably not this cheeky.
    ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘that’s the speech.’
    He took a deep breath, and looked around. I think he wanted me to yell at him so he could yell back. The phone rang again.
    ‘It’s Kevin.’
    ‘Hello, Kevin,’ I replied cautiously, ‘what’s up?’
    ‘Can you get back to the Towers?’
    I glanced up at the three sorcerers, who were concentrating hard on doing nothing.
    ‘Not really. Why?’
    ‘I’ve had a premonition.’
    I was about to say it was about time too, as a soothsayer who can’t see the future is about as useless as a Buzonji with only four legs, but I didn’t.
    ‘What kind of premonition?’
    ‘A biggie. Full colour, stereo and 3D. I’ve not had one of those for years. I need to tell you about it.’
    And the phone went dead.
    ‘So, listen—’
    I stopped because Tiger had tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t look the weepy sort, but looks can be deceptive. I had cried when I arrived at Kazam, but never in front of anyone, not even the fifth foundling, the one we don’t talk about.
    ‘Hey,’ I said, ‘don’t worry. Everything will be fine. The enchanters are a quirky bunch but you’ll get to love them like family – as I do.’
    ‘It’s not that,’ he said, holding up a trembling finger. ‘I’ve just seen something so terrifyingly hideous that I am inclined to start crying, quite against my will.’
    I followed his trembling finger.
    ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘that’s the Quarkbeast. He may look like an open knife drawer on legs and just one step away from tearing you to shreds, but he’s actually a sweetie and rarely, if ever, eats cats. Isn’t that so, Quarkbeast?’
    ‘Quark,’ said the Quarkbeast.
    ‘He’ll not harm a hair on your head,’ I said, and the Quarkbeast, to show friendly intent, elected to perform his second-best trick: he picked up a concrete garden gnome in his teeth and ground it with his powerful jaws until it was powder. He then blew it into the air as a dust-ring which he then jumped through. Tiger gave a half-smile and the Quarkbeast wagged his weighted tail, which was sadly a little too close to the Volkswagen, and added one more dent to the already badly dented front wing.
    Tiger wiped his eyes with my handkerchief and patted the Quarkbeast, who kept his mouth closed in order not to frighten him further.
    ‘I hate it here already,’ said Tiger, ‘so I already like it twice as much as the Sisterhood. Did Sister Assumpta beat you when you were there?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Me neither. But I was always frightened that she would.’
    And he gave a nervous laugh. There was a pause, and he thought for a moment. I could see there were hundreds of questions going around in his head, and he really didn’t know where to start.
    ‘What happened to the Great Zambini?’
    ‘It’s plain “Mr Zambini” these days,’ I told him, ‘he hasn’t carried the accolade “Great” for over ten years.’
    ‘You don’t have it for life?’
    ‘It’s based on power. See the one dressed in black over there?’
    ‘The grumpy-looking one?’
    ‘The dignified -looking one. Sixty years ago she was Master Sorceress the Lady Mawgon, She-Who-the-Winds-Obey. Now she’s just plain Lady Mawgon. If the background wizidrical power falls any farther, she’ll be plain Daphne Mawgon and no different to you or me. Watch and learn.’
    We stood there for a moment.
    ‘The fat one looks as though he’s playing a harp,’ said Tiger, with a lot less respect than he should have shown.
    ‘He’s the once-venerable Dennis Price,’ I told him testily, ‘and you should learn to hold your tongue. Price’s nickname is “Full”. He has a brother called David, but we all call him “Half”.’
    ‘Whatever his name, he still looks like he’s playing an invisible