FORTY-SIX

We Became Sisters

The half-track had cooled down enough to be started once we’d cut the clothes from the tracks, so we moved off and didn’t stop until we reached the cave where we’d spent the night before. It was late when we arrived, and, too tired to bother hiding the half-track or posting one of us as sentry, we all fell fast asleep.

I was awakened by a faint noise from outside the cave. I looked at my watch only to discover that a sword cut had removed its face and hands. I nudged the princess, who mumbled something like “No, no, nursey, a pedicure at ten, I said,” before turning over and going back to sleep. Addie’s bedroll was empty, and I found her crouching silently at the cave entrance, watching. It was painful to move, as all my cuts and nicks stung horribly.

I crouched near Addie. “Who’s outside?” I whispered.

“The Mountain Silurians,” she whispered back.

“Let’s see what they want,” I said, standing up. “They know we’re here, and after yesterday, I’m not sure much really scares me anymore.”

We stepped out from behind the rhododendrons to find three warriors astride Buzonjis silently waiting for us.

“Greetings on this day,” I said, “and all respects be upon you. But if you mean to kill us, then be quick about it. We have faced more death in the past twenty-four hours than we would care to see in a lifetime, so do it now or go about your business and leave us to ours.”

“We’re not here to kill you,” said the middle warrior and the largest of the three. “We are here to bring Geraint the Great’s word of congratulations. He salutes the brave warriors who have faced the Cavi homini and returned, and also thanks you for the goat thing, which looks like sound financial advice. He deems you worthy of calling you his sisters, and grants you free access upon our lands and the full protection of the Mountain Silurians, wherever you might be.”

“Oh,” I said, “good.”

“Then you accept?” asked the warrior.

“Do we?” I asked Addie.

“Hell, yes!” said Addie enthusiastically. “An honorary sister of Geraint the Great? You’ll never have to line up at the grocery store again. And that’s just for starters. Never mind all the other fringe benefits of being affiliated with the most terrifying warrior tribe in the whole of the kingdoms.”

“I don’t shop at the grocery store,” said the princess, who had come up behind us. “In fact, I don’t think I shop at all.”

“Laura Scrubb will have all the benefits when you return her body,” I said. “Perhaps it might make up for the lost hand.”

“You’re right,” said the princess. “I’m totally in.”

The warrior on the left slipped expertly from his Buzonji and asked us to sit down. An induction into the Mountain Silurians’ affiliation was designated by a tattoo of a small blue star on the right temple. It took about twenty minutes each, and after presenting us with an elegantly bound book of eligible bachelors within the tribe and three offers of marriage for the Fearless Tour Guide Addie Powell, the warriors remounted their Buzonjis and were gone.

“Mother will be furious I got a tattoo,” said the princess, looking at the livid mark in the half-track’s side mirror. “Yes, I know it’s technically not on me. It’s just that I’ve become so used to this body, I’m not really sensing much of a difference. In a strange way, I’m actually enjoying being Laura Scrubb.”

We had a good wash in the waterfall, then took a half hour to tension the half-track’s tracks, as was insisted upon in the rental agreement. I even checked the oil and refilled the radiator with water.

We repacked, climbed in, checked that Rubber Colin’s straps were still secure, and headed off down the Llangurig road.

“Do you think Laura has had as interesting a time in my body as I have in hers?” said the princess, who had been thoughtful for some time.

“I’m thinking almost certainly,” I replied.

“I’m going to free her,” she said, “with a generous pension. In fact, I’m going to free all the orphans working in the palace. And when I become queen, I’m abolishing this whole ridiculous orphan-based economy. The trade in orphans ends under me. The fast food joints and hotel industry will just have to figure it out another way.”

I smiled. Things were looking good for the Kingdom of Snodd, and for orphans in general. Queen Mimosa had been right to send her daughter out with us, even if by every other measure, the trip had been an abject failure.

“Maybe that’s why we have the Troll Wars,” mused the princess, “to supply the orphan-based economy with orphans.”

“It’s crossed my mind many times,” I said.

We came within sight of Llangurig, and I was suddenly aware that the past few days, adventurous as they were, had not helped us one atom in our fight against the Mighty Shandar. In fact, since we’d lost Perkins and Colin was still rubber, we were worse off. The only upside of the not-finding-the-Eye issue was that things hadn’t gotten worse—just stayed the same.

We found Llangurig a ghost town. The arrival of the railroad had made it irrelevant; the handful of residents who remained were there only because they loved it, and none of us had any issue with that.

We had lunch at the Bluebell and each ate two main courses, with sponge pudding for dessert. Cadir Idris had given us an appetite.

“So who did take the Eye of Zoltar?” asked Addie, calling for more custard.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “but whoever did has had six years to unlock its power, and I’m figuring they haven’t. We’d certainly have heard about it.”

“Tell me if I’m pointing out the obvious,” said the princess, “but when did Able Quizzler die from that fall?”

“It was . . . six years ago,” I murmured.

“And when did Pirate Wolff get changed to lead, did you say?”

“Six years ago.”

“Is that important?” asked Addie.

The princess didn’t need to answer. I knew precisely what she was getting at. I got up and placed some money on the table.

“Where are we going?” asked Addie.

“We’re going to find some shovels,” I said, “because the princess just picked up on something we all missed.”

“And then,” added the princess, “we’re going to the cemetery.”

I had no difficulty finding Able Quizzler’s grave again, and started to dig immediately, much to the outrage of Dirk the gravedigger.

“You can’t be doing tha’!” he said. “We only ’cept deposits, not withdrawals!”

We ignored him, so after waving his arms at us for a while, he shambled off about as fast as he could go.

The ground was waterlogged and heavy, but we eventually unearthed a leaden foot, twisted and mildly flattened by the impact, about two feet beneath the surface.

“Kevin Zipp might have been right after all,” I said as we continued to dig, “and this is my theory: Able Quizzler found his way to Pirate Wolff’s lair, and as soon as the Eye was shown to him, he used the most easily accessible magic within the Eye to make his escape, in this case, a Turning to Lead Gatekeeper. He pried the Eye from Pirate Wolff’s hand, then killed every pirate in his way using the Eye’s magic before escaping on a Leviathan. But the Eye’s Gatekeeper spell did what Gatekeeper spells are meant to do: protect the jewel. Quizzler himself was turned to lead soon after, and fell from the Leviathan.”

“And landed here, while still—we hope—clutching the Eye,” said the princess.

“Fingers crossed.”

We uncovered Quizzler’s torso, also deformed with the impact, and then finally his leaden face, still fixed with the triumphant grin he’d worn six years before and ten thousand feet up. I knew then that my theory was sound. Quizzler had been killed by the Eye’s malevolence just as he had achieved his lifelong quest.

“There!” said Addie as we brushed more dirt off the body.

Able Quizzler’s leaden hand was clenched around a large, pink jewel. Despite the ground being wet and muddy, the jewel seemed to repel the dirt and shone with a brightness that almost invited avariciousness. It was actually, I think, even bigger than a goose’s egg, and from somewhere deep inside the jewel, there was a light—a pulsating glow, like that of a human pulse. It seemed that Zoltar’s evil will, the guiding force of the gem’s power, was still in residence.

We’d found the Eye of Zoltar. But we were going to have to be very, very careful unless we wanted to end up like Quizzler—lead, and very dead.

We all stared at the jewel, hardly daring to breathe.

“I’ve got no magic in me,” said the princess, “but even I can feel it—a sort of dark wickedness.”

“I feel it too,” said Addie, “and I’m also thinking that no one should touch it.”

I agreed with this, and after a brief discussion I had the princess go into town to buy an iron cooking pot, several large balls of twine, and as many candles as she could carry. And then, without touching the massive jewel, we pried it from Quizzler’s grasp and placed it in the pot surrounded by clay we had dug up from the grave. We bound the lid of the pot closed with twine, then poured molten candle wax over the string to seal it tight.

We carried our treasure gently to the half-track, where we lashed it securely to the floor in the back of the vehicle next to Rubber Colin. It was the most dangerous magical artifact that I had ever handled, and I wondered then about the wisdom of giving it to Shandar, even if it would save the lives of the dragons. But I would consult with Moobin and the others at Kazam about that.

“Okay, then,” I said, “just one more thing to do and we’re heading home.”

“I really hope it doesn’t involve going back into the Empty Quarter,” said the princess.

“No, we’re going to Cambrianopolis—to negotiate for Once Magnificent Boo’s release.”