Foster, Dean - Spellsinger 04 - The Moment Of The Magician

every time you transpose, too. At least let me out o'

these blasted ropes!"

"Yes, I believe 1 can do that, now that you have

calmed down somewhat and decided to act halfway

civilized. All that screaming and cursing, tch." He

mumbled something under his breath.

Nothing happened. "Well," Mudge asked, "is that

it?"

"Not quite. You have to sneeze."

"Oi, I do, do I? Just like that? You think sneezin*

on cue's as simple as talkin'? As simple as drawin* to

twelve of a kind? Right then!" He inhaled sharply,

tickled his nose with a whisker, and blew messily in

Jon-Tom's direction. No question but that his aim

was deliberate.

The ropes turned to dust at his feet. He stood and

rubbed his arms to restore the circulation.

Same old Mudge, Jon-Tom mused, cleaning him-

self up as he inspected his old friend. The otter

boasted a new vest of gray shot through with silver

thread together with matching silver-and-black shorts.

Alan Dean Foster

72

His new boots were bright metallic blue. The famil-

iar longbow and quiver of arrows were slung across

his back. On his head rode the same battered green

felt cap. New feather, though.

"That's an improvement, guv'nor. Now 'ow about

this bloomin' cage?"

"What cage?" asked Clothahump with a half smile.

"There is nothing barring your path save a few

flimsy threads."

"Few they may be but flimsy they ain't. Don't think

I 'aven't tried." He pushed out with a hand, casually,

and several of the threads snapped. He had to rush

to jump clear as the wooden roof started to collapse

on top of him. Then he was standing unrestrained

on the kitchen floor staring at what up until a

moment ago had been an impenetrable prison but

was now nothing more than a couple of blocks of

wood lightly linked together by a few cloth threads.

"The only thing worse than a bloody wizard," he

mumbled, "is a bloody wizard who likes to play

jokes."

"I do not play jokes," declaimed Clothahump with

dignity. "Such mundane exercises in plebeian amuse-

ment are beneath my stature." He coughed lighdy. "I

do admit to some slight subtle sense of humor,

however. At my age you pass up no opportunity for

some mild amusement.

"As for your late lamented twelve of a kind, for

that 1 am sorry. I have reason to believe that the

wizard Opiode the Sly, whom you travel to visit, will

be willing to reimburse you fully."

"Yeah, that's wot you always say, guv."

"In any case, you will surely have the run of lovely,

exotic Quasequa, whose climate and virtues the poets

extol beyond—"

"Oh, come off it, guv'nor, I've 'eard all this before."

He sniffled once. "Twelve of a kind." A glance up at

TBC MOMENT OF THE MAGICIAN

73

jon-Tbm. "You know 'ow long a player waits for a

'and like that, mate?"

"No, I don't. I thought the most you could get in a

game was four of a kind."

Mudge mulled this over. "I can see we're talkin'

different games 'ere, mate. You wouldn't understand,

then." He turned to face Clothahump. "Right then;

this brotherly dabbler in the back o' beyond may or

may not pay me for me time and trouble, but wot

about me own 'ard-earned money I put on the table?

Wot about the loss o' me gamblin' stake? Or don't

you think you're responsible for me losin* that?"

"I am not responsible for your gambling debts,"

said the turtle slowly, "but I agree it would be wrong

were you to suffer the loss of your own money on my

account."

"Well now, that's more like it." Mudge looked sur-

prised and somewhat mollified. "You know, guv, if

you wouldn't treat me like an old 'ammer and saw all

the time, I might be a mite more inclined to partici-

pate willingly in these charmin' little diversions you

and the 'airless one 'ere come up with. Quasequa,

wot? Never been there, 'tis true. Wot is it we're

supposed to do there?"

"Check out a new chief advisor to the local rulers,

a newly arrived wizard who calls himself Markus the

Ineluctable," Jen-Torn told him.

"Sounds straightforward enough to me." His gaze

narrowed and darted back and forth between Jon-

Tom and Clothahump. "You're sure that's all, now?

You two wouldn't be concealin* somethin' from old

-Mudge, now would you?"

"Certainly not," said Clothahump, obviously insulted.

"Would I do something like that, Mudge?"

"I don't like it. You two are too chummy. I feel

safer when you're arguin'." He focused on the turtle.

Alan Dean Foster

74

"Wot's the land like between 'ere and this -Quasequa

place?"

"Tropical, friendly, largely uninhabited and un-

spoiled. I would be coming along myself if my arthri-

tis were not acting up. That, and the fact that this is

really a minor business, precludes my accompanying

you"

"There's something else." Jon-Tom put a comradely

hand on Mudge's shoulder. The otter moved out

from under it, but at least he didn't try to bite. "This

Markus the Ineluctable claims to have come from

another world. If he comes from my world and the

two of us strike up a friendship, it's a chance for me

to get home. Maybe for both of us to get home."

"Well now, that would be worth the journey, to see

the last of you, mate, though I don't know as 'ow I

could stand more than one of you otherworldly twits

in the same place at the same time. Nothin' personal,

but if you get back to your 'ome, maybe I can get

back to 'aving a normal life o' me own."

"A normal life," said Clothahump dryly, "rich with

thieving, fighting, wenching, and being in a condi-

tion verging on permanent inebriation all the time."

"Yes, that's wot I said," agreed the otter blithely,

missing the wizard's sarcasm entirely.

Clothahump eyed him sadly. "I fear there is no

hope for you, water rat." He looked suddenly

thoughtful. "I was led to believe that the most you

could hold in a game of artimum was eleven of a

kind."

"I thought artimum was a spice," said Jon-Tom.

"A spicy game of chance, my boy. Spices are in-

volved as well as dice and cards." He gave the otter a

shrewd look. "You didn't, by any chance, cardamom

your hand?"

"Oh, wonderful!" Mudge threw up his hands and

beseeched the heavens for understanding. "I'm snatched

Tas MOMENT w THE MAGJCIAJV

7S

r T

; ?

away from the biggest winnings of me ^hort life so's I

can be accused o' cheatin' by someone who wasn't

even there."

"Did you cardamom your cards?" Clothahump

persisted.

Shaking his head, Mudge turned to Jon-Tom, put

a hand around his waist. "Right then, mate. Long as

our course 'as been determined, we might as well be

on our way. Sooner we gets there the sooner we can

start *ome, right?"

"Might as well wait another day, since I've saved so

much time what with Clothahump bringing you

straight here. We can leave tomorrow morning." He

was taken aback by the otter's sudden enthusiasm.

"Let's 'ave a chat then, must be a lot you 'ave to tell

me, and I've plenty to tell you." He eased Jon-Tom

toward the doorway.

"Twelve of a kind." Clothahump was rubbing his

lower jaw and gazing speculatively after the hurried-

ly departing otter.

Mudge made sure to close the door behind him.

v

It was raining when they departed the following

morning. Mudge appeared to have undergone a