Hugh Cook: The Wishstone and the Wonderworkers

‘Falamantatha!’ he said, in high amazement.

Then amazement gave way to anger. Who had staged this obscene and vicious joke? He immediately suspected his feckless gossoon. But his bedroom door was still barred from the inside. The boy could not have entered while Odolo slept. Nobody could have got in during the night.

‘Some work of the wonderworkers!’ said Odolo. ‘That’s what it is!’

But which of Untunchilamon’s sorcerers would have done such a thing? And why? Was it a threat? A message? A warning? Had he offended one of the island’s mages by his agile conjuring and his lighthearted jokes about magic and its practitioners? If so, then who precisely had he offended? And how could he make amends?

‘Varazchavardan,’ said Odolo slowly. ‘Maybe that’s who it is.’

Odolo was cursed with incurable levity, which had got him into trouble many times in the past. Maybe his wit had once again landed him ‘upside down in boiling dung’ as the local expression so nicely put it. Maybe he had finally told one albino joke too many.

‘Well,’ said Odolo, ‘Varazchavardan forgets. The Empress Justina likes me very well.’

The thought gave him confidence, but the confidence was misplaced. For the blood was but a token of horrors greater yet to come, and the Empress was to prove powerless to protect him from those horrors.

A little later, Odolo descended to Ganthorgruk’s dining room. He slapped a damn on to the chef’s counter and breakfast was served to him. It was a mess of something grey and brown with bits of wiggly stuff poking out of it.

‘Gods!’ said Odolo, swilling it round in his bowl. ‘Is there a doctor in the house?’

‘Enough of your cheap cracks,’ said Jarry the chef, who had a hangover. ‘If you don’t like it, don’t buy it.’

‘Cheap?’ said Odolo. ‘No joke is cheap if loss of life be its inspiration. Unless the life in question was yours, dear Jarry. A joke would be a bargain if that were its price.’ Jarry hawked and spat, missing Odolo by a fmgerlength. The conjurer retreated, bearing his breakfast away to a table out of spitting range. Then he began to eat.

Usually, part of Odolo’s daily routine was to play animal-vegetable- mineral with his breakfast, to the general amusement of all in earshot. But this morning he slopped down the food without comment, scarcely tasting it. He was still thinking about the jug of blood.

He finished his breakfast, pushed the bowl away from him, and paid out another damn to buy himself a cup of cinnamon-flavoured coffee, which he took to his favourite window. From here, one could look over the roofs of Lubos to the waters of the Laitemata, to the island of Jod, to the island of Scimitar which lay yet further south, to the lagoon beyond Scimitar, to the Outer Reef and then to the scintillating immensity of the open sea.

Odolo loved that view.

As he sipped his coffee, he thought of all the things he had to do that day. By rights he should go to the Vidal mansion to make a formal apology for the joke he had made at the funeral of Old Redlegs. He had to placate his bank manager, and try to convince the old monster that the overdraft was not nearly as large as it seemed. Since there was to be a Petitions Session on the morrow, he should drop by at the treasury to clean the Imperial Sceptre. It would only take a few moments. Then he had some tricks to rehearse for his performance at the banquet which would follow the Petitions Session.

Okay. And what else? The room, of course! Have to get someone to clean that bloody room.

As Odolo was so thinking, the clearing maid screamed. Moments later, he knew why. Miniature rainbows were dancing above the breakfast bowl which he had so lately emptied, and the bowl itself was boiling with frenzied blue scorpions.

The island of Jod.

What and where?

‘What’ is easy enough. It was the home of the Hermit Crab and also of the marvellous building of imported white marble which housed the Analytical Institute. ‘Where’ is equally easy. The island of Jod lay — and lies still, one presumes — in the middle of the Laitemata Harbour. To the north, the mainland of Untunchilamon and the city of Injiltaprajura. To the south, the minor island of Scimitar, then the Outer Lagoon, the last reef rocks and the limitless blue sea beyond.

What and where are accounted for. So what about why? The hell with why! This is a history book, not a treatise on philosophy. If the island of Jod had, in any sense, a ‘why’, it is not for us to enquire into it.

Who, then.

A question more worth asking.

There were many people on Jod. There was, for example, Ivan Pokrov, head of the Analytical Institute. Then there were algorithmists, mechanics, kitchen hands and others. But let us start at the bottom. Let us start with the lowest of the low, which must mean, of course, that we find ourselves starting with an Ebrell Islander.

With, to be precise, young Chegory Guy.

When do we start with him?

In the morning. Not the early morning, where we left the conjurer Odolo staring aghast at a bowl full of scorpions. Not the mid-morning, either, for we have passed over that in silence. No, we start with Chegory Guy in the late morning, at the tail end of istarlat.

It was late morning on the island of Jod, and, as per usual, Chegory Guy at work on the rock gardens. He was proud of his job, and of his reputation as a good, reliable worker who needed no supervision. Stupid Ebby! His pride was grossly misplaced. Despite all his endeavours, no rock under his care ever enlarged itself by so much as a fingerlength. His rocks were sterile, and did not multiply. Barren were his labours, and bitter were the fruits thereof.

[It is doubtful that this criticism is seriously intended. While the Originator doubtless hates and despises Ebbies (and who can blame him?) he here appears to be making an ill-advised attempt to indulge in humour. Unlike market gardeners, rock gardeners are neither required nor expected to fecundate the earth. Habble Skim argues that crystal flowers are known to grow in deep desert, and that the rocks of Untunchilamon may possess a similar potential for enlargement. They do not. Here I speak from personal knowledge. An alternative theory has been advanced by Gin Anvil, who claims that insanity is here in evidence. But is it? While that is a possibility, it is hard to locate another passage where the Originator deviates even slightly from accepted dogma regarding the nature and potential of the physical universe. Therefore, while I do not claim to understand the attraction of ‘humour’ (and would regard any insinuation that I am a ‘humorist’ as being libellous) I nevertheless believe that all evidence and research supports my contention that we are here in the presence of a joke. Drax Lira, Redactor Major.]

Nevertheless, Chegory was happy in his work, even though his pride in his labours was fatuous. However, he was scarcely going to get rich through such employment, since his job paid him but five damns a day.

Untunchilamon still used the official currency of the Izdimir Empire, in which there are forty damns to a single dalmoon and ten dalmoons to a dragon, with each dragon containing one standard pearlweight of basilisk-grade gold. Note that the dalmoon herementioned is not to be confused with the coin of identical name which is used in Dalar ken Halvar solely for the ritual purchase of aborted foetuses. Note also that in the Malud of Asral, ‘dalmoon’ denotes a gaff-rigged boat rather than an item of coinage.

Things are unlikely to have changed since my departure from Injiltaprajura, so a traveller planning a visit to Untunchilamon should be able to rely on the imperial coinage. However, if one is starting out from Obooloo, please note that the turquoise strings so often used as a medium of exchange in the markets of Ang find scant acceptance on Untunchilamon, where money-changers will give you naught but ten per cent of their customary value. The money-changers are also highly suspicious of the spings, flothens, ems and zeals issued by Obooloo’s Bondsman’s Guild. On the other hand, saladin rings are treated as cash, just as they are in the imperial heartland, and have a similar purchasing power.