The Song of the Quarkbeast

Mother Zenobia

As I drove to Clifford to see Mother Zenobia, I wasn’t very hopeful that I would have much luck recruiting her to our cause. She was old, tired and for almost 75 per cent of the day a form of limestone. What wizidrical powers she had available to her were most likely limited, and I knew for a fact that she hadn’t been out of the convent for years. But I wasn’t the only person who wanted to see Mother Zenobia that afternoon, and their presence was neither welcome, nor, as I considered it later, surprising.

It was none other than Conrad Blix, and I met him walking out of the Sisterhood of the Blessed Lady of the Lobster as I was walking in.

‘Jennifer!’ he said with a mockingly pleasant demeanour. ‘How is the team bearing up?’

‘You know well enough,’ I replied coldly. ‘What are you doing here?’

He leaned closer.

‘Dealing with a few flies in this particular ointment, Miss Strange. This morning Norton and Villiers were merely assuring our victory. Just now I was guaranteeing it.’

I didn’t like the sound of this.

‘What have you done to her?’

He smiled.

‘I will get so much satisfaction watching you work for me as a parlourmaid for the next two years. And for your complete and utter humiliation, I will insist you wear the uniform.’

‘You’re a coward to use such underhand means to win the most noble of contests, Blix.’

He narrowed his eyes.

‘And you’re very impertinent considering you’re nothing but a foundling who lucked out in your work allocation.’

‘On the contrary,’ I replied evenly, ‘foundlings are always impertinent – it’s because we’ve nothing to lose. I’m actually one of the politer ones.’

‘You’ll regret your words, Jennifer.’

‘And you your actions,’ I replied, ‘and even if you do win, none of us will ever work for you.’

‘I wouldn’t expect you to,’ he said. ‘All I need is control of Kazam and with it a monopoly on magic – surely that’s obvious?’

‘To reanimate the mobile phone network?’

He grinned.

‘That’s just for starters. You have no idea how much a wise investor can make by exploiting the crackle. The licensing deals on electromagical devices will make a fortune – millions alone for something as simple as a pocket calculator. And all that work you’re doing to reanimate medical scanners for free – deluded. How much do you think people will pay to detect an early tumour?’

I clenched and unclenched my fists.

‘Magic is not for the one,’ I said through gritted teeth, ‘it’s for the many.’

‘I agree wholeheartedly. But in this particular instance, “many” means only myself, Lord Tenbury, the King and his Useless Brother. Oh, and good move with Zambini Towers and the “infinite thinness” enchantment. Lady Mawgon, was it?’

He didn’t know she was stone, which was a small plus in our favour.

‘She’s very talented, if a little severe. We’ll defeat you tomorrow, have no fear of that.’

He laughed.

‘With who? A cranky washed-up old has-been and a winsome newbie who can barely levitate a brick? No. You’ll be thrashed. Why don’t you concede now and save the magic industry a lot of embarrassment?’

‘The future of magic is not negotiable.’

‘You’re wrong, and what’s more, it’s not your decision to make. Here’s the deal for you to take back to Kazam: concede before midnight tonight, and I will ensure that all those hopeless ex-sorcerers at Zambini – I mean, “all those venerable past masters” – are looked after in a five-star nursing home until they croak. I will offer every licensed practitioner a job under my leadership or, failing that, two million moolah cash in return for surrendering their magic licences. What’s more, you and Tiger will be paid to do nothing until your indentured servitude is finished, at which point you will be granted full citizenship. Do we have a deal?’

‘Go to hell.’

‘Almost certainly,’ he replied with a smile, ‘but I’ll go there wealthy. I’ll expect an answer by midnight, yes?’

He smiled at me in a smug and triumphant manner, but something didn’t quite ring true.

‘That’s a very generous offer,’ I said, ‘for someone so utterly sure they will win. If you can thrash us as you claim, you can take what you want from the wreckage without spending a bean. Do we worry you, Blix?’

He smiled again, but not with quite so much confidence. He was scared of us.

‘Let’s just say,’ he added, recovering his composure, ‘that the magic industry has enough bad PR at present without petty infighting. If we’re to start selling magic as a benevolent force for good – as essential to daily life as the water in the tap and electricity in the plug – then we need to show we are responsible and upright citizens. Take the offer, Strange.’

I had no intention of accepting his offer.

‘We’ll see you at the bridge site tomorrow morning for the contest. Nine on the dot, wasn’t it?’

‘Nine it is. Sandop kale n’baaa, Miss Strange.’

‘Sandop kale n’baaa, Amazing Blix.’

And after staring at me for a moment, he turned on his heel and left. I walked into the convent and soon found what Blix had been up to. Mother Zenobia was sitting in her chair, stony features looking straight ahead. She had changed to stone for her afternoon nap, and Blix, presumably, had blocked her return. I was too late. Blix had won this round, too. I took a deep breath and prepared to leave.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ asked a tearful Sister Agrippa, who was Mother Zenobia’s attendant.

‘Put a sheet over her and give her the once-over with a feather duster every fortnight. Don’t use a vacuum cleaner in case you knock something off – she’d never forgive you when we get her back.’

I walked out of the convent with the saddening realisation that we were pretty much stuffed. With one potential sorcerer crossed from my list, my last hope was a woman who won an unprecedented six golds in the sorcery events at the 1974 Olympics. She was a sorcerer of undisputed skills, but also secretive, obstinate and prickly beyond measure. She was the Once Magnificent Boo.