reposed form of Tehol Beddict for a moment, then he collected the netting and draped it over his master.
Eyes, one brown, the other blue, blinked up at him. 'Shouldn't there be a frame or something? I feel I am being readied for my own funeral here.'
'We used the frame for this morning's fire.'
'Ah. Well, is this going to keep me from being bitten?'
'Probably not, but it looks rather fetching.'
Tehol closed his blue eye. 'I see . . .'
Bugg sighed. 'Gallows humour, Master.'
'My, you are in a state, aren't you?'
'I am undecided,' Bugg said, nodding. 'Yes I know, one of my eternal flaws.'
'What you require, old friend, is a mortal's perspective on things. So let's hear it. Lay out the dilemma for me, Bugg, so that I might provide you with a properly pithy solution.'
'The Errant follows the Warlock King, to see what he plans. The Warlock King meddles with nefarious rituals set in place by another ascendant, who in turn leaves off eating a freshly killed corpse and makes for an unexpected rendezvous with said Warlock King, where they will probably make each other's acquaintance then bargain to mutual benefit over the crumbling chains binding another ascendant – one soon to be freed, which will perturb someone far to the north, although that one is probably not yet ready to act. In the meantime, the long-departed Edur fleet skirts the Draconean Sea and shall soon enter the river mouth on its fated return to our fair city, and with it are two fell champions, neither of whom is likely to do what is expected of them. Now, to add spice to all of that, the secret that is the soul of one Scabandari Bloodeye will, in a depressingly short time, cease to be a secret, and consequently and in addition to and concomitant with, we are in for an interesting summer.'
'Is that all?'
'Not in the least, but one mouthful at a time, I always say.'
'No you don't. Shurq Elalle is the one always saying that.'
'Your penchant for disgusting images, Master, is as ever poorly timed and thoroughly inappropriate. Now, about that pithy solution of yours . . .'
'Well, I admit to disappointment. You didn't even mention my grand scheme to bankrupt the empire.'
'The Invigilator now hunts for you in earnest.'
'Karos Invictad? No wonder you put me under a shroud. I shall endeavour to be close to the roof 's edge the day he clambers into view with his drooling henchmen, so that I can fling myself over the side, which, you'll agree, is far preferable to even one bell's worth of his infamous, ghastly inquisition. In the meantime, what's for supper?'
'Vinik eggs – I found a somewhat broken nest washed up under a dock.'
'But vinik eggs are poisonous, hence the clouds of complaining gulls constantly circling over every nasty little floating island.'
'It's a matter of proper cooking, Master, and the addition of a few essential herbs that serve to negate most of the ill effects.'
'Most?'
'Yes.'
'And do you have in your possession those life-sustaining herbs?'
'Well, no, but I thought I'd improvise.'
'There you have it.'
'There I have what, Master?'
'Why, my pithy reply, of course.'
Bugg squinted at Tehol Beddict, who winked, this time closing his brown eye. The Elder God scowled, then said, 'Thank you, Master. What would I ever do without you?'
'Scant little, I'd wager.'
* * *
Tanal Yathvanar set the package down on the Invigilator's desk. 'Delivered by a rat-faced urchin this morning. Sir, I expect it will prove no particular challenge. In any case,' he continued as he began unwrapping the package, 'I was instructed to treat it delicately, and to keep it upright. And you will, in moments, see why.'
Karos Invictad watched with heavy-lidded eyes as the grease-stained, poor quality ragweed wrapping was delicately pulled away, revealing a small, open-topped wooden box that seemed to possess layered sides. The Invigilator leaned forward to peer inside.
And saw a two-headed insect, such as were now appearing down by the river. Its legs were moving precisely, carrying it round . . . and round. The insides of the box were each of coloured, polished tiles, and it appeared that the tiles could be slid free, or rearranged, if one so chose.
'What were the instructions, Tanal?'
'The challenge is to halt the insect's motion. It will, apparently, continue walking in a circle, in the same place, until it dies of starvation – which, incidentally, is the fail point for the puzzle . . . approximately four months. While the creature rotates in place, it will