Fyre Page 108


Marcia had just poured the coffee when she heard a knock at the big purple door. That night, the door was under instructions to admit any senior Wizard Tower Wizard, and Marcia heard it swing open. She braced herself for Jillie Djinn’s stare and strode through the sitting room to see who was there.

It was Dandra Draa. Marcia was pleased; she liked Dandra and right then she could do with some company. The Sick Bay Wizard was hovering uncertainly, unsure whether to come in. “I have something important, Madam Marcia,” she said.

“Oh, please, just call me Marcia,” said Marcia.

To both Marcia and Dandra’s shock, the ghost of Jillie Djinn chose that moment to speak for the first time. Her high, wavering voice poured into the room, a brittle stream of noise. “Call me Marcia . . . oh, please, call me. Oh, Marcia, call me, please.”

Dandra emitted a small shriek.

“Drat!” said Marcia. “I’d hoped for at least a couple more months’ silence.”

“A couple more . . . I’d hoped for . . .”

Marcia sighed. “Come in, Dandra,” she said. “It’s very good to see you.”

“To see you . . . too . . . see you . . . see too you too see you.”

“If she carries on like this I’m going to kill her,” muttered Marcia.

“Job done, I think,” said Dandra with a wry smile.

Marcia smiled grimly in return. She liked Dandra’s sense of humor. “Indeed. Come through to the kitchen, Dandra; have some coffee.”

“Have some coffee . . . coffee some. Have . . . the kitchen, Dandra. Come.”

Marcia thought that she would go crazy if she listened to the ghost’s jangled singsong a moment longer. She steered Dandra briskly through the room and closed the door very firmly behind her.

The ghost of Jillie Djinn sank back into the cushions of the sofa. She wore a satisfied smile. Jillie Djinn: one, Marcia Overstrand: nil. And she had nine more months to hone her skills.

As Marcia instructed the coffeepot—two cups, with sugar, and hot this time—Dandra placed a mangled band of gold on the kitchen table. “I find this,” she said. “It is the ring, I think.”

Marcia picked up the fragile gold circle with care, then got out her Enlarging Glass and inspected it. “Goodness, I do believe it is,” she said. “It shows signs of recent Darke activity. And . . . ah, yes . . . here, I can see the imprint of the heads.” She looked up and smiled for the first time that evening. “Dandra, that is wonderful. Wherever did you find it?”

Dandra smiled. “Stuck in a Wizard’s shoe.”

“Really?”

“He come to Sick Bay with sore foot. So first I look at the shoe. And this is stuck in it. There is nothing wrong with his foot.” Dandra shook her head. “He is, what you say—fusspot?”

“Yes, that is exactly what we say,” said Marcia. She smiled at the forlorn, distorted ring thinking how, according to legend, it had once been treasured by a Queen and yet had spent so long containing such evil beings. Marcia felt sad that it would have to contain them once again, but it was much safer that the Ring Wizards should be Committed to their original ring, rather than risk one of the untried Triple bowls.

“Thank you so much, Dandra. It’s so lucky you found it—and that you knew what it was.” Marcia sighed. “Right now I could do with a bit of luck.”

Dandra sipped her strong, sweet coffee, made exactly how she liked it. She took her job of being responsible for the health of all the Wizards in the Tower seriously and thought that Marcia looked in need of some support. “Your ghost, he not here? I mean nice old ghost with naughty jokes.”

“Oh, Alther. No. He’s, er, out.”

“You alone too much,” said Dandra. “Is not good.”

Marcia sighed. “It goes with the territory,” she said.

Dandra looked puzzled.

“My job. It goes with the job.”

“But you need talk. Everyone need talk.”

Marcia did not reply. It had been a long time since anyone had been concerned about her in this way and she felt quite emotional.

“You worry about Ring Wizards,” said Dandra.

Marcia nodded.

“You know how to get them come to you?”

Marcia looked interested. “Do you?” she asked.

“You find person who have last worn ring. Then you take prisoner.”

Marcia smiled. She liked Dandra’s no-nonsense approach.

“You do this, I think?” asked Dandra.

Normally Marcia would not have confided what she called sensitive information to a new Wizard, but she felt she could trust Dandra. “Yes. In fact, he is on the way here, right now.”

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