“He would be a poor sort of assassin if he did not try again, since it is common knowledge that I am still alive,” said Zacharias irritably. “There has been nothing worth mentioning, however: an asp disguised as a sausage at my dinner; invisible obstacles magicked onto my staircase, in the hope that I may trip and break my neck. I assure you”—this to Lady Wythe—“there is no need for concern. Considering the extreme tension that has subsisted within the Society since my investiture, it was only a matter of time before something of the sort happened. I consider myself fortunate that my enemy has so far been easily dealt with.”
“But is it truly Geoffrey Midsomer who has been conspiring against you?” said Lady Wythe. “He must be denounced to the Presiding Committee—put away in a gaol. I shall speak to Lord Burrow, and demand that he put a stop to these tricks—”
“By speaking to his nephew?” said Zacharias. Lady Wythe fell silent.
“Besides,” said Zacharias, into a depressed silence, “I do not know for certain that Midsomer is behind the attacks.”
“It does not seem unreasonable to suspect Midsomer of having something to do with them, however,” said Damerell, examining his fingernails with a contemplative air. “Rollo and I will investigate his goings-on. It is clear an eye ought to be kept on the fellow, and Rollo has a remarkable nose for secrets, though you might not think it.”
This generosity embarrassed Zacharias, and he spoke with rather more impatience than he intended in trying to disguise this. “I do not see that there is any need for you or Rollo to trouble yourselves with my affairs. It is absurd! As if I needed to employ a troop of intelligence agents on my behalf!”
“On the contrary,” said Damerell coolly, “it is tradition. Every Sorcerer Royal who survived more than a few months in office achieved his longevity by the judicious employment of spies.”
Chastened, Zacharias said, “I am conscious of your goodness, andI know you receive little enough reward for it. But then your kindness to me has always exceeded anything I could return.”
“If you wish to thank me, you would oblige me by leaving off such talk,” said Damerell crossly. “You need not flatter yourself that I am helping you on your own account. How could I do less for the connection of an old friend?” He bowed to Lady Wythe.
“It is not very civil of you to call Lady Wythe old,” said Prunella.
“Oh, Damerell may take any liberties he desires, you know.Hecan never be uncivil,” said Lady Wythe. She tried to smile through her distress. “It is a great comfort to me that you and dear Robert are taking up Zacharias’s cause.”
“We will do our best by him,” promised Damerell. “We shall be unflagging in our endeavours, despite ingratitude, mutterings, complaints. Never let it be said that Zacharias Wythe wanted friends in this world or any other.”
•••
THEREwas still work to be done, even when the threat of being sacrificed upon the altar of a rival’s ambition hung over one’s head. Zacharias returned to his study at the end of the day determined to continue his work. He thought he should make a start on a report to the Society of his audience with the Fairy King, though he felt hardly equal to the task. He sat chewing on his quill, various anxieties tumbling tiredly about in his head.
He did not yet know what he ought to tell, and what he should withhold. Prunella had not known where Mak Genggang had gone, though she had promised to send a message. If only he could contrive to come to an understanding with Mak Genggang, perhaps—
He had not completed the thought when the window shattered. With an energy Zacharias had not known he still possessed, he vaulted across the room, snatching his staff out of the umbrella stand. Butwhat came through the window was no monster or assassin. It was Mak Genggang.
She had returned to her ordinary size, but retained the bat-wings she had invented to enable her escape from the Society. She fluttered into the room and landed on the floor, folding her wings up behind her.
“Good day, ma’am,” said Zacharias, after a pause.
He could not decide whether to thank her for coming, or upbraid her for ruining his windows. The former would be more politic, of course, but the latter would be such a satisfaction to his feelings. Whether he intended courtesy or reproach, however, he was prevented from continuing by Mak Genggang.
“So much for the soft words of the foreign sorcerer!” she cried, trembling with passion. “I will say nothing of ingratitude. It is the deception, the cowardly dishonesty in seeking to put a frail old woman off her guard, which is what I cannot endure. You will regret your mistake, however. You will find it is a fool who seeks to impose upon Mak Genggang!”
Zacharias was alarmed by the furious resentment in her voice.
“Mak Genggang—” he began, but she cut him off.
“Do the British think us children, to be daunted by shadows and smoke?” she said. “We have sought only to live in peace, and you have sent an army into our country. Very well! If you wish us to believe you are ready to attack, we shall take you at your word. We may not be experts in war, but you have not heard, perhaps, of the venom of a woman’s curse. Our enmity, once earned, survives even death.”
In the same bitter voice, the matriarch began reciting a curse. The language was unfamiliar, but the syllables dropping like poison from her lips were pregnant with a tremendous evil power. The wood of Zacharias’s desk warped and turned black. A noxious miasma rose from her person, and the floorboards shuddered beneath Zacharias’s feet.
“Ma’am, I beg that you will not be rash,” cried Zacharias. “I assure you, whatever offence has been perpetrated, I have no knowledge of it. I would be very anxious to remedy any wrong committed against your people.”
“You regret your perfidy now that you see the extent of my power, but you ought to have considered it before you betrayed Janda Baik!” snapped Mak Genggang.
“I beg you will believe I have no knowledge of this betrayal,” said Zacharias. “I have been quarrelling with my Government to stay out of the affairs of your island. My first wish is to prevent magical conflict, which would be so detrimental to both our nations.”
“Of course you deny your wickedness,” said Mak Genggang. “The British are all alike—cheats, traitors, villainous blackguards!”
She looked uncertain, however, and Zacharias sought to press his advantage.
“Did not I defend you from my colleagues when they wished to punish you after the Spring Ball? Was it not my apprentice who then freed you from your imprisonment?” he said. “Till now I was not aware of anything that might endanger the accord between our nations. I would regret anything of the sort extremely.”
