The Song of the Quarkbeast

Risk of confluence

I ran back to the bridge to find Moobin and Patrick sucking on ice cubes and trying to get their breath back. The iMagic team were still working, but without Blix they were a good four hours behind, if they could finish at all.

‘The Moose is gone,’ I said to Moobin, ‘so you’re on your own. The surge you felt was a power drain as something latched on to the ambient wizidrical energy and drew what it needed through you. Blix had a plan B in case we were to defeat him. A plan he has hatched with the help of the colonel. This is no longer a magic contest – it’s an assassination attempt!’

‘To what end?’

‘To put Blix on the throne. Legally the Court Mystician is eighth in line after the Royal Family and the Lord Chief Adviser. Everyone that stands between him and the Crown is here today, gathered conveniently in one place to suffer . . . death by Quarkbeast!’

‘A bit of a long shot,’ responded Moobin doubtfully. ‘The last incidence of a person savaged by a Quarkbeast was over a decade ago – and he did attack it first with a garden fork. I can’t see the King attacking anything with a garden fork.’

‘He’d have a footman do it for him,’ said Margaret O’Leary, who had joined us, ‘but I’m not sure a Quarkbeast would be able to make the distinction between the attacker and the person who ordered it.’

‘Not that way,’ I replied, still out of breath from the run, ‘I mean with a confluence. Place a captured Quarkbeast next to a source of heavy spelling and it will draw the vast quantity of power needed to divide. It tried earlier with Patrick when he was moving the oak, but couldn’t draw enough. The Moose gave it as much as it needed – and more.’

‘But if it is not separated after division,’ said Moobin, who knew a bit about Quarkbeasts as well, ‘then—’

‘Right,’ I said, ‘if unable to escape itself in a thousand seconds, it will recombine with enough energy to take out a third of the city.’

They stared at me, horrified at the suggestion.

‘How long is a thousand seconds?’

‘Sixteen minutes and forty seconds.’

I looked at my watch. It was eleven minutes past. If the Quarkbeast divided when the surge ended, we had less than five minutes. We looked around. Most of the south of the city would be taken out and, with it, King Snodd and all his family, half the police, most of the Imperial Guard, all the spectators – and us. Blix would be taking cover somewhere out of the blast radius.

‘No witnesses,’ said Moobin, ‘and no one to refute whatever version of events King Blix decided on – he could blame it on anything he chose.’

‘We need to find a locked room within fifty metres of the royal box,’ I muttered. ‘Wait here.’

I ran across to where Lord Tenbury was standing, presumably wondering whether the King was serious about stuffing him and Blix with sawdust if they lost. I explained as briefly as I could what was up, and Tenbury, eager to regain the King’s trust, immediately ordered the Royal Family’s evacuation, then returned to us to see how he could help. He may have been corrupt, but he was no coward.

‘Where do we start?’ asked Moobin. ‘There must be hundreds of rooms big enough to hide two equal but identically opposite Quarkbeasts.’

As we looked about, wasting time, word was getting about that something was up – the hurried way in which the Royal Family were removed most probably, and then the Imperial Guard themselves, who had a reputation for running from danger wherever it presented itself. In any event, the crowd began to grow restless, and when those in the expensive seats started to move away with their jewellery rattling in a panicked fashion, those in the cheaper seats also decided to make a run for it.

I looked around to see where a Quarkbeast might be hidden, but then a notion drifted into my head. I told Moobin straight away.

‘Perkins is imprisoned with the Quarkbeast!’

‘You know this or you think this? We don’t have time to make a mistake.’

I had to make a swift judgement call. Half of Hereford and thousands of lives depended upon it.

‘I know this,’ I said, taking a deep breath, ‘because it’s an odd notion that popped uninvited into my head. And if Perkins has any particular skill, it’s that of seeding ideas. I think he might be trying to communicate with me.’

I closed my eyes and tried to empty my mind, which was difficult as the mass exit of spectators made something of a noise as the panic increased.

‘Moobin,’ I said, ‘I need you to take out all my senses.’

He pointed his finger at me and in an instant everything went empty. It was as though I had fallen into an empty space within myself that had nothing in it but time, thoughts, smells and the deep red of the sky at dawn. It was extraordinarily peaceful, and without the distraction of overwhelming sensory input I felt unusually clear headed. At first I could sense nothing except the jumble of my own thoughts firing across my mind and the smell of bacon and Irish stew, but after a moment or two I forced these to one side and, all of a sudden, there was a small voice on the very edge of my conscious mind, where the froth of random thoughts meets free will. It was Perkins, and he was sending me ideas. But he wasn’t that good at it, and seemed to be coming across like a greetings telegram, and what’s more, one that was badly spelled.

. . . WEST OF SNOOD BLVD SELLAR ++ KWARKBEAST DIVIDED ++

EXPLOD EMMENINT ++ THREE STEPS DOUN ++ STILL WANT DATE? ++

REPEAT SNOOD BLVD SELLAR ++ KWARKBEAST . . .

And so it went on, repeating itself. I listened to it three times, each time spelt differently, until Moobin brought me back to the world of heat, light and sound just as Once Magnificent Boo and Tiger turned up in the Quarkbeast containment vehicle. I related what I’d heard as my watch passed thirteen minutes – three minutes to go.

‘Anyone who wants to head for safety has to leave now,’ I said. ‘No one will think any the worse of you for it.’

No one made a move. Not even Lord Tenbury.

‘Right,’ I said, ‘follow me.’

Snodd Boulevard ran from the cathedral to the north end of the bridge, and after a hurried search we found a house that had three steps down to a green-painted cellar door. It was locked but Patrick pulled it off its hinges with a powerful flourish of his bruised hands and we hurried in to find ourselves in a long corridor with doors on either side, all locked.

‘Where now?’ asked Tiger as our final minute began to tick away.

‘Doorknobs,’ growled Boo, ‘find the warm one.’

It was Moobin who found the correct room, and when Patrick had once again torn the door from its hinges we found a small paint store with a vaulted ceiling and a single window high up in the end wall. Perkins was lying cuffed, bound and gagged near the doorway, and at the far end of the chamber were two equal but opposite Quarkbeasts.

One of them was the one I had seen around town earlier, but the other was mine – the one I had lost up on the Dragonlands. Every detail was the same: the sixth thoracic scale slightly askew, the right front dew claw missing, and even the single white foot. My Quarkbeast was back. I took all this in on that first glance, and also noted a high-pitched hum in the air. But another and much more pertinent fact trumped all others for my attention: the Quarkbeasts were almost touching. Our thousand seconds were up.

‘Still!’ said Boo, and we all froze. The low hum rose in pitch as the Quarkbeasts moved closer to one another, increasing again to a whine as they nearly touched, then dropping again as they moved a few inches apart. This was the Song of the Quarkbeast. Those that have heard it are now little more than dust. But if I was to die, then I was glad to have heard it. It was a lonely song. One of lament, of unknown knowledge, a song of resignation, and of love and poetry given and received. The small movements that the Quarkbeasts made as they padded around one another altered the hum so subtly that it sounded like an alto bassoon, but with one single note, infinitely variable. But it wasn’t a song of peace, love or happiness; it was a requiem mass – for all of us.

We all stood stock still. No one dared move in case the Quarks became startled and recombined either through fear, mischief or boredom.

I said the first thing that came into my head.

‘Hello, boy.’

The new Quarkbeast turned to look at me and its mauve eyes flashed a sense of recognition. It looked at its partner, then at me again.

‘I still have much to do,’ I said softly. ‘Adventures. Wonderful adventures. And I’m not sure I can do them without you.’

It wagged its tail to show it understood, but remained undecided, and the low hum rose again in pitch as the other Quarkbeast paced around it.

‘Walkies,’ said Tiger, speaking from outside in the corridor. The Quarkbeast recognised his voice, too, and, eager to drag Tiger around the neighbourhood once again, it gave one final look at its partner and padded past us to where Tiger was waiting.

Almost immediately the low hum in the air stopped, and Once Magnificent Boo moved cautiously forward with some aluminium-coated zinc treats with which to tempt the other Quarkbeast.

‘Welcome back,’ I said.

‘Quark,’ said the Quarkbeast.

Within a few short moments Boo had steered the original Quarkbeast from the room and into the riveted titanium crate for onward transportation to Australia.

I untied Perkins, who gave me an awkward hug and thanked me for tuning into his thoughts.

‘Hey,’ I said with a smile, ‘what girl doesn’t like being thought about?’

I had a sudden thought.

‘By the way, did I detect you thinking about asking me out for a date while you were directing us to you?’

‘I couldn’t help it,’ said Perkins, looking somewhat embarrassed. ‘Maybe the idea of sharing a Potage Jojolie at the dreary-chic Dungeon Rooms helped me forget that I was about to be annihilated.’

‘In that case,’ I said, ‘I guess you’d better book us a table.’

We walked out into the daylight and back the short distance to the north abutment, where the unfinished bridge lay before us. The iMagic team had fled the scene, and of the crowds, only the fearless, stupid and asleep remained. The live leader board still displayed the final odds – 100:1 in favour of Kazam.

We jumped as from behind us there was an explosive report and a flaming figure was shot high in the air. It was Jimmy ‘Daredevil’ Nuttjob, performing his half-time act. He arced high above our heads trailing smoke as he went, and disappointingly managed only to get as far as ‘God save the . . .’ before landing with a splash and a hiss in the river. We clapped dutifully as he surfaced, coughing and spluttering.

We sat for a while gathering our thoughts until the Lord Chief Adviser strode up, ten minutes later.

‘Recent events have changed His Majesty’s mood,’ he said. ‘Ex-Court Mystician Blix is wanted for high treason along with his accomplice Colonel Bloch-Draine, and I am directed to proclaim in His Majesty’s name that you are the winners of the contest.’

We looked at one another. We were all tired and bruised. Somehow jumping around and punching the air seemed inappropriate, given that we had been just ten seconds from dark eternity.

‘What about the others?’ said Moobin.

The Lord Chief Adviser took a deep breath.

‘In addition, I will have the Price brothers released immediately, and all charges are to be dropped. I will be making a full and truthful account of your exploits to His Majesty forthwith, and will recommend that the position of Court Mystician be transferred from Mr Blix to a sorcerer of Kazam’s choosing. In addition, I have known His Majesty a long time, and I foresee medals. Lots of them. Probably big and very shiny.’

‘I have a better idea,’ said the Wizard Moobin. ‘We don’t want the the job of Court Mystician and we certainly don’t want medals. We want to be left alone to pursue the Great Zambini’s stated goal to use magic for the good of mankind. We don’t want special favours, we simply want justice.’

‘I’ll see that you get it.’

‘Do that. And remember: we don’t respond well to being double-crossed.’

‘We also require immunity,’ I said, always thinking of my paperwork, ‘from prosecution for all spells undertaken today, by whomsoever.’

Lord Tenbury was in no position to do deals. We could have asked for a pink elephant each – and got it.

‘Leave it with me,’ he said, and bowed low before departing.

We stood there for a moment, wondering what to do next. Blix could be anywhere by now, and although a nationwide arrest warrant would be able to bring him back to Snodd to stand trial, he wouldn’t allow himself to be found. When you’re a sorcerer of Blix’s power, staying hidden is easy.

‘How about some lunch?’ I announced in a cheery voice. ‘Once Magnificent Boo? Will you join us?’

Boo grumbled for a moment, but after I pointed out that she was one Quarkbeast closer to enlightenment thanks to us, she shrugged and agreed to come along – so long as we didn’t mention the M-word in her company.