The Eye of Zoltar

‘Risky?’ said Addie. ‘Put it this way: statistically speaking, you’re dead already, your bones gnawed by wild animals and now bleached in the sun, your life only fractured lost moments, memories in those who knew you best.’

‘Very … jolly,’ I said.

Addie shrugged.

‘There are many dangers and I don’t want you to start whining when someone gets eaten or drowned or something. But here’s the deal: a Golden Moolarine each for wherever you want to go for the next week, and for that I can promise you a fifty per cent survival rate.’

‘I thought the official Fatality Index was eighty-six per cent?’

Addie smiled.

‘I can offer better odds than the official rate. It is a gift passed down from one tour operator to the next – a sixth sense that tells me how many we will lose. I am never wrong. But let’s be clear on this: half of your party will die, or be lost or eaten. Are you sure you want to shoulder that responsibility?’

I looked at Perkins, who nodded.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Then we have a deal,’ said Addie, and we shook on it.

At that moment an ex-military half-track turned up in a cloud of yellow Marzoleum fumes. I’d not seen one of these up close before. The front two wheels were for steering, and at the rear there were caterpillar tracks, like on a landship. It was also protected by a quarter-inch of armour plate on the sides and bottom, but not the top, which was open, but could be covered by a canvas tarpaulin. Perkins and I looked at it doubtfully.

‘Where we’re going, there are no roads,’ said Addie. ‘This was a good call. We leave in half an hour. Wait here.’

‘Fifty per cent casualties?’ said Perkins as soon as Addie had gone and we had signed the half-track’s rental agreement. ‘That’s …’

‘… one and a half of us, plus two and a half fingers if you count the Helping Hand^™,’ said the Princess. ‘Bags I not be the one half-dead, especially in Laura’s body.’

‘You should be more serious, Princess,’ said Perkins.

‘And you should hold your tongue when talking impertinently to royalty, Mr Porkins.’

‘It’s Perkins.’

‘Perkins, Porkins, Twitkins – like I give a monkey’s.’

‘No one is dying or losing fingers,’ I said, ‘and we’ve got a few magical moves that should help us get home safely. And Princess, hold your tongue. You’re Laura Scrubb right now, and will be until we get you back to the palace.’

We chucked our baggage inside the half-track and I climbed into the driver’s seat to figure out how to drive the vehicle. It didn’t seem much different to the Bugatti, in fact, and I was just reading the bit in the instruction manual about track maintenance procedures when a voice made me look up.

‘Hey!’

It was Curtis and two others. All young, all dressed kind of hip, all looking a bit smug, confident and stupid.

‘Hey, Dragonslayer dude,’ said Curtis, grinning at me, ‘heard you were heading off through the Empty Quarter towards Cadair Idris to do some Cloud Leviathan spotting. Sounds dangerous, and well, we’re like totally up for it.’

‘This is a private expedition,’ I said sharply, ‘you’re not coming.’

‘Too late,’ he said, ‘we’ve already okayed it with your tour guide, and she’s taken our money.’

‘Is that right?’ I asked Addie, who was walking up with a bedroll on her shoulder.

‘Yes indeed,’ she said, ‘a larger party fares better for all manner of reasons, and if it comes to a scrap, seven people are better than four.’

‘I really don’t think—’

‘I’d like you to trust my judgement on this one, Miss Strange.’

We stared at one another for a moment. There was something she wasn’t telling me, but I had to trust her – only a fool ignores a local guide.

‘Okay,’ I said, ‘welcome aboard.’

‘Awesome,’ said Curtis, readying himself for introductions. ‘These are my buddies. Meet Ignatius Catflap.’

He indicated the shorter of the two. Ignatius had a shock of black hair and seemed to be trying a little too hard to grow a beard. He was chewing gum and his red-rimmed hungover eyes blinked stupidly as he was introduced.

‘Hi,’ he said. ‘This is just like going on a trip to some weird and awesome dangerous place.’

‘It’s not like it, you dope,’ said the Princess, ‘it is.’

Ignatius stared at her in surprise.

‘A little bit forward for a handmaiden, aren’t you?’

‘She’s kind of a bodyguard as well,’ I said. ‘Try and be nice to the morons, Laura.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Ignatius’ family own the Catflap Corporation,’ piped up Curtis, as though it were exciting and relevant. ‘They make novelty placemats.’

‘They do what?’ I asked.

‘Placemats,’ said Ignatius, ‘mats to put your plates on at mealtimes. I’m here doing research into our planned “Extreme Jeopardy Range”. Each mat will depict a frightful end suffered by someone here in the Cambrian Empire. What do you think?’

‘I’ll tell you what I think: that “tasteless” was a word invented just for you.’

‘… and over here is Ralph,’ said Curtis, eager to move on and indicating the second of his friends, ‘another of my old school chums.’