Out popped the salamander’s head. “Who’d do your books?” it demanded. “A stupid lazy feline? Ha! Think a cat could cover your accounts payable like an octopus with your accounts receivable like a clam?”
“I know, I know,” growled Magrit. “That’s why you aren’t a wallet.”
The squabble apparently over, the creature slithered out of the mousehole and returned to the table.
Zulkeh cleared his throat. “Madame, let us leave aside for the moment our differing views on the capacities of Wolfgang Laebmauntsforscynneweëld. The question of consulting with him remains moot in any event. For, do I not mistake me, he has been for some time now incarcerated in the world-famed asylum for the insane in Begfat. Under lock and key, so I am told.”
“He escaped.”
Zulkeh gasped. “Escaped? From the asylum at Begfat? Surely you jest! The institution is noted for its rigorous security, its—”
“Wolfgang escapes whenever he wants to,” countered Magrit. “Not hard for him. After all, he owns the place.”
“What?”
“You didn’t know? Wolfgang founded the asylum. Said he needed a home of his own. He’s its main patient.” She chuckled. “He’s also the head psychiatrist, the chief tester as well as testee of experimental drugs, and the captain of the security guard.”
A loud knocking sounded from the floor below.
“That’ll be him,” said Magrit. She headed toward the stairs, giving the wizard a sneer as she passed. “Some people use the front door.”
“Madame!” exclaimed Zulkeh. “This is preposterous! I have no time to fiddle away doing some ‘job’ for you—certainly not a task which involves such a mountebank as—”
The witch paused at the head of the stairs. “Fuck you,” she snarled. “You came here looking for my help. You can’t pay anything, except in that dwarf gold I wouldn’t touch in a minute. It’s like they say: ‘no freebies from Magrit.’ If you want my help, you’ve got to do me a service—and the service I need will require Wolfgang. So! There it is—you want my help finding your enemies, stay and wait. You don’t need my help, after all? No problem—get lost!”
When Magrit reappeared, climbing the stairs, the wizard was still protesting volubly. His voice was stilled by the sight of the figure who followed, a gigantic man who was only able to negotiate the staircase in a stoop.
“He’s even bigger than I remembered,” muttered Greyboar.
“Disgusting, the way he drools like that,” whispered Ignace.
Once at the top of the landing, the giant straightened up slightly, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.
“I do wish you’d raise this ceiling a bit, dear,” he said. “Last time I was here I couldn’t ever stand up straight.” A grotesque leer came upon his face. “Not that I spent much time in a vertical position.” He reached out a huge hand and patted the witch’s ample posterior. Magrit squawked with laughter and slapped the hand away.
Still stooped, the giant turned to the wizard.
“Zulkeh!” he boomed. “Have you led me a merry chase! Been following you ever since you left Goimr!”
“Following me?” demanded the mage. “For what reason? And by what right?”
The giant giggled. “By the right of lunatics to do anything that crosses their silly minds, of course! As for the reason, you’re about to hear it.”
Wolfgang spread his hands, still giggling. “I now declare this council of war open!” Then, slapping his head. “Oh, but wait! I’m so forgetful! The others!”
He leaned over the railing and emitted a piercing whistle. “Come on up, boys!”
There came the tramp of heavy feet. Then, appearing in a row up the stairs, came six wide grins on six lumpy faces.
PART XV
In Which the Mage Agrees,
Though With Profound Misgivings,
to the Proposal of the Witch and Her
Vile Accomplices, Producing Those Results
Which Reverberate About the World To This Very Day,
Not the Least of These Being the Earliest
Manifestation of The Horror Henceforth
Known, To Friend and Foe Alike,
As The Rebel.
CHAPTER XX.
A Notorious Council Convenes. A Wizard’s Objections. A Theft Proposed. A Wizard’s Objections. Motives Revealed. A Wizard’s Objections. Particulars Explained. A Wizard’s Objections. A Plot Set Afoot!
And so was convened the later-notorious First Magrite Council. The date: October 30, Year of the Jackal.