The Eye of Zoltar

‘Ongoing progress reports, sir.’

His eyes scanned the text.

‘I’ll take two minutes,’ he said, his voice a deep baritone that seemed to transmit confidence, awe and leadership in equal measure.

‘This is Jennifer Strange,’ said D’argento, gesturing in my direction, ‘as you requested.’

He looked across at me. He was a handsome man, tanned, appeared healthy and was imposingly large. His eyes, which regarded everything with the minutest attention to detail, appeared not to blink, and were of the brightest green, like a cat’s.

‘Miss D’argento? Make that four minutes.’

He shook my hand.

‘I’m very pleased to meet you at last. A worthy opponent is the only opponent worth opposing.’

His handshake was firm, yet cold, which is hardly surprising; a few seconds ago he had been stone.

‘You assisted the Dragons in destroying my carefully laid plans,’ he added in a quieter voice. ‘Plans four centuries in the making. All that work for nothing, and now they’re asking for a refund. Worse, you have damaged my hundred per cent wizidrical success rate and bruised my credibility as a sorcerer of considerable power.’

I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing. He had a point to make, and he’d make it soon enough.

‘For any one of those reasons I should banish you to the icy wastes of outer Finlandia.’

‘If that was your plan you would already have done so.’

‘Very true,’ he said with a half smile, ‘but I’m not into revenge. It has a nasty habit of biting you back when you least expect it. I have a feeling that punishing you would upset the delicate Good–Bad balance.’

Most sorcerers believed in what they called ‘The Balance’. Simply put, all life requires equilibrium to survive. For every death there is birth, for every light there is dark, for every ugliness there is something that shines with the greatest lustre. And for every truly heinous act, there are always multiple good acts to compensate. It’s why evil despots are always defeated, and why a truly awful reality TV show can never go on for ever.

Shandar looked at the clipboard for a moment, signed something, then continued to read while he spoke to me. Someone as powerful as Shandar would be able to read two books and converse with three people at the same time – even in different languages.

‘You seem a resourceful young lady, Jennifer. I’m not often beaten, and the experience has renewed a sense of excitement that I have not felt for a long time. You appreciate that I have almost unlimited power at my disposal?’

‘I know that, sir, yes.’

‘Are we sure about this?’ asked the Mighty Shandar, pointing to a clause in one of the notes he was looking at.

‘Yes, sir,’ replied D’argento. ‘They want the state of Hawaii moved to the middle of the Pacific.’

‘I thought it was fine between Wyoming and Arkansas.’

‘The venerable Lord Jack of Hawaii said the move is on account of the climate – and they want to retrofit the collective memory so everyone thinks it’s always been there.’

‘Standard stuff,’ said Shandar, signing the contract, ‘and they didn’t quibble over the price?’

‘Not a murmur.’

He sighed and shook his head.

‘Where have all the good negotiators gone?’

‘Two minutes gone,’ said Miss D’argento, consulting her stopwatch.

‘So with my power almost unimaginable right now,’ he continued, turning back to me, ‘your friends the Dragons are easily exterminated. Take it from me that I could – and would – destroy them in a twinkling, thus completing the contract and avoiding a refund.’

‘Then you will take on the might of Kazam as well, Mighty Shandar,’ I said, ‘for we will do anything to prevent you harming a single scale of a Dragon.’

It was a bold speech, and I felt myself shiver in fear of how he might react. He appeared not to hear me at first and spoke again to his agent.

‘We’re not doing this,’ he announced quietly as he handed an unsigned contract back to Miss D’argento. ‘There are quite enough boy bands on the planet as it is.’

He turned back to me.

‘The combined power of your sorcerers would not equal a thousandth of my power,’ he said.

‘I know that,’ I replied, ‘and so do they. But it would not stop them. They would all die defending one of their own, and the Dragons, masters of the magical arts themselves, are one of us.’

The Mighty Shandar regarded me thoughtfully. I’d not consulted the sorcerers on any of this, but I knew them well enough, and so did he.

‘Then I have a proposition for you, Miss Strange. Are you listening?’

‘I’m listening.’

‘As you can see, my time is strictly rationed. I have no spare time to search for rare and exotic trinkets to add to my collection of Wonderful Things. Miss D’argento is too busy with managing my affairs, and drones are all very well for heavy lifting and the odd senseless act of violence, but they have no finesse. So: find something for me and I’ll leave the Dragons alone and take the indignity on the chin.’

‘I’m still listening,’ I said. ‘What do you want me to find?’