Darren Craske - The Eleventh Plague

Faroud seethed. 'If the council only knew-'

'What could they do now that he has might on his side?' Joyce laughed.

The Aksak looked to Quaint. 'Cornelius, help me make sense of this. You know the Hades Consortium better than me. What would compel them to aid Nastasi in such a manner?'

'The question is, Aksak: what lengths would the Hades Consortium go to, to ensure their plan to poison the Nile is a success? The answer: just about anything. I assume that they require Nastasi – and the remainder of your clan – for something connected to their plot…something that uses intimidation as its fuel,' Quaint explained. 'This is an odd play for them though, I agree. I would have thought unification of the Scarabs would be the last thing they wanted. They would surely have to oust him at some point if they wished to regain a semblance of control in Egypt. Giving arms to the Scarabs, giving them even more power…it's tantamount to suicide.'

'It's obvious that you're not a man of politics, Mr Quaint,' Joyce laughed. 'The perception of power is all relative to what you have power over. Whatever the Hades Consortium has given Nastasi in return for his services, it is nothing that cannot be taken away again whenever they feel like it! Lady Jocasta is a fiendishly calculating young bitch, but you can't deny her skill – she knows just what carrots to dangle in front of your nose!'

'Lady Jocasta?' asked Quaint. 'Who is she?'

'She's in charge of the show! Everything that has transpired has been according to her design. The poison, the plan for the Nile – even Nastasi's coup! Whilst she sits at the top of her tree, there's nothing you can do to stop her.' Joyce fixed his gaze directly upon Faroud. 'You have been reunited with your little brother, Aksak…but I would make the most of it if I were you. Do you really think that Nastasi will let his biggest detractor just walk away? His only opposition? Oh, no! He's scared stiff that you'll try to rally your troops into a counter-revolt. Now he's got the Hades Consortium at his side, he'll stop at nothing to wipe you off the face of this earth!'

'I have no interest in your words, Joyce. Keep your mouth shut or I will ask my men to show you how we Scarabs deal with traitors,' snapped Faroud.

Joyce snorted like a pig. 'Don't waste your time trying to frighten me, Faroud; we both know you can't kill me.'

'Oh? You sound very sure about that,' said Faroud.

'I am,' replied Joyce smugly. 'You need me.'

'A scurrilous slime such as you?' countered Faroud. 'For what reason?'

A devilish smile seeped onto Joyce's taut lips, and he delivered his answer slowly and deliberately. 'Because, my dear Faroud, only the Hades Consortium's base of operations in Fantoma holds the answers that you and your little band of thugs seek – and I'm the only one that can get you inside.'

The Unstable Alliance

'YOU EXPECT US to go walking into the Hades Consortium's den with only your word as protection?' asked Cornelius Quaint, as he towered over Joyce. 'You must think us fools!'

'Well, if you want to put an end to Lady Jocasta's plot, then you don't have much choice, do you?' retorted Joyce. 'The Consortium has guards posted in a three-mile radius of their sanctorum. They will cut you and your brave little band to pieces the moment you set foot on their territory…but not me. They know me…they trust me. I can get you past their defences, right into the lion's den.'

'Don't make me laugh!' snapped Quaint. 'If you had that kind of pull, you wouldn't be out here in the desert; you'd be holed up in their secret HQ in Bombay.'

'Rome, actually,' said Joyce.

Quaint smiled. 'Rome, eh? I shall have to remember that.'

'Whether you like it or not, right now I'm the only hope you've got of stopping this plot, not to mention getting your fortunetelling friend out of Fantoma alive.'

'So why the change of heart?' asked Quaint. 'Why are you in such a hurry to betray the Hades Consortium all of a sudden? Back in your embassy you were dead against it.'

Joyce pushed his tongue into his cheek coyly. 'Well…you know how this game works, Quaint. I've been trying for years to gain a better standing in the Hades Consortium…all to no avail. They kept me on their leash as I fed them what I learned from the Embassy, and then a whole load of them turned up…in my territory! Before that harpy Jocasta arrived, I was top dog.'

Quaint stroked his jaw. 'So…by getting us into the Consortium's heart we can disrupt this Lady Jocasta's plans…which makes her look bad, and sets you up for bigger and better things, right? You shovel manure in her direction and manage to come out smelling of roses?'

'Vulgarly put, but yes,' said Joyce. 'I'm going nowhere in this backwater country, I know that. I'm no fool. If I want to make a name for myself, I won't do that sitting behind a desk in the bloody British Embassy!'

Aksak Faroud scoured the conjuror's face intently, trying to decipher what might be going on in his head. 'Cornelius, can I have a word with you…in private?'

'What's on your mind?' Quaint asked, once they were out of Joyce's earshot.

'Him! He is on my mind. He captured my brother and forced me to become his personal slave. Are you seriously thinking about allying our band with him? He is nothing but a lying, deceitful snake!'

Quaint smiled. 'I seem to remember Professor North saying the same about you.'

'And she had good reason – as do I,' said Faroud. 'I know this man, remember? He will betray us at the soonest opportunity. It is too simple…it is a trap!'

'Of course it's a bloody trap! Frankly, I'd be offended if it weren't,' replied Quaint with an unyielding glare.

Faroud took a step back. 'And…you are going through with it anyway?'

'Remember the plan,' Quaint said, shifting his voice from a whisper to a clipped snarl. 'Right now we're running out of both time and options, Aksak. I want to get into the Consortium's base, and his way works just as well as mine.'

'As contagious as your bravado is, my friend, perhaps you should have second thoughts about such rashness?' advised Faroud.

'Heavens, no, man!' Quaint said, slapping Faroud on the back. 'I had second thoughts ages ago; I must be on at least double figures by now. Here's what I think we should do…'

Five minutes later, Faroud kicked a cloud of sand into the air and cursed madly.

'That is the most foolhardy plan I have ever heard in my entire life! Even coming from you!' he raged, walking away from the conjuror at a pace as Quaint followed in his wake. 'You wish us to disguise ourselves as Hades Consortium guards whilst two of my Scarabs pose as you and me – acting as Joyce's prisoners – and then we simply walk into the base through the front door?'

Quaint smiled. 'Brilliant, isn't it.'

'No, it is not,' disagreed Faroud. 'I will tell what it is – it is utter madness!'

'It has to be, don't you see? It's the only weapon we've got!'

Faroud looked moonward. 'Then we really are in trouble.'

The Measure of Evil

LADY JOCASTA BLAZED through the stone corridors of the Fantoma sanctorum with intentional haste. She reached Sir George Dray's quarters, and raised her hand to tear back the thin curtain dividing his room from the low-ceilinged tunnel – but then something made her halt. Anxiety was an emotion that she was feeling more and more often since her superior had arrived in Egypt, and it buzzed around her stomach like a swarm of hornets. She shook the apprehension away, and cleared her throat to announce her presence.

Sir George bade her to enter.

The old man was sitting at a writing bureau. The waning light from a paraffin lamp burrowed deep shadows into the wrinkles on his craggy face. He held up his hand, ordering Jocasta to wait, and continued scribbling away into a leatherbound journal.