The Great Troll War

‘Agreed,’ I said almost immediately, as hesitation suggests indecision. If you’re going to lie, don’t dither for a second – and make it a whopper. The bigger the fib, the greater the chance that people will believe it.

‘I will supply both to you,’ I continued, ‘just as soon as the last Troll hoof is off the nation’s soil. We also want the Great Zambini returned to us, intact, now, as a sign of goodwill.’

The Mighty Shandar stared at me for a moment, impressed. Few, if any, would have dared to speak to him like this, but growing up in an orphanage under Mother Zenobia’s often tyrannical method of child-rearing toughened you up.

‘That any of you are alive at all is the mark of my supreme benevolence,’ he said slowly. ‘The magpies that helped fill the Button Trench – that was me. I have spared you once, but you will not always find me so magnanimous.’

‘Zambini stays vanished,’ added Miss D’Argento. ‘You will give His Mightiness the Eye and the Quarkbeast right now, and the Trolls will be gone in a month.’

‘The Mighty Shandar said he could get rid of them by Monday teatime,’ said Tiger, who had been brought up in the same orphanage as me, and it showed. The Mighty Shandar turned to glare at Tiger, who didn’t seem fussed at all.

‘His Mightiness merely meant,’ said D’Argento in a testy manner, ‘that he can start to get rid of them by Monday morning.’

‘He should have been clearer.’

‘Put the little twit on the Troll Eat List,’ said Shandar, ‘and have him fast-tracked to the head of the banquet for his impertinence – on a large platter, covered in glaze and with an apple in his mouth. That’ll shut him up.’

D’Argento made a hurried note and I smiled inwardly. Tiger was trying to distract him. Zambini had told me that when negotiating, keep negotiating, keep engaging, and even if you’re making little headway, find some small concession. Come away from the first stage of a negotiation empty handed, and you’ll always come away empty handed.

‘We will consider your offer and let you know on Monday,’ I said, trying to buy some time over the weekend, ‘so long as we can see a reduction in Troll numbers at the Button Trench.’

‘His Mightiness is the one dictating terms,’ D’Argento said. ‘I thought that was obvious.’

Shandar looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

‘But,’ she added, taking it down a notch, ‘since His Mightiness has more pressing matters to occupy his time, you may give us the Eye of Zoltar now, and as soon as we take possession of the Quarkbeast on Monday morning the Trolls will be instantly transported to beyond the Troll Wall, which will then be sealed. We do not know where Zambini is.’

‘Take the deal,’ added Shandar, ‘or the next thing you will be wearing is garnish.’

There was a long pause.

‘Jennifer,’ said Boo, ‘we should give His Mightiness the Eye of Zoltar.’

I wasn’t sure about this, but trusted Boo implicitly, so nodded my assent.

‘I’ll get it,’ said Monty Vanguard. As he hurried off, the Mighty Shandar looked around.

‘So that’s what Maltcassion25 became, is it?’ he said. ‘Not much to look at, are you?’

This was kind of true. Both Feldspar and Colin were only young, and looked like baby birds just coming into feather – sort of untidy, with feathers and scales pointing out in all directions.

‘The name’s Colin,’ said Colin, ‘and I will have my vengeance upon you for destroying so many of my kind.’

‘I’m quaking in my boots already,’ said Shandar. ‘I’ll deal with you and your silly brother in due course, have no fear of that.’

‘Here it is,’ said Monty, walking back in with a galvanised pail. We kept the Eye in a bucket of water, which is a good moderator26 of wizidrical energy. But even so we had to change the water every week as the magic the Eye attracted turned the water first to Ribena, then to rose petals, then butterflies. It pays to be cautious. To expel energy in a focused beam, the Eye had also to be able to absorb it. Shandar delicately took the large and fiery jewel from the bucket, stared at it and smiled. We’d thought he’d sent us to find the Eye as something of a wild goose chase, but from the look on his face, it was an integral part of his plans.

‘You have until dawn on Monday to deliver the Quarkbeast,’ said Miss D’Argento. ‘If you fail to do so, His Mightiness will undertake some instant bridge-building across the trench, and then set out deckchairs for us both to watch the invasion of your pitiful little safe haven in comfort, and the devouring of all those within.’

‘Well,’ said Shandar, clapping his hands and giving us all a smile, ‘this has been a lot of fun and I think we understand each other. Good day.’

And he vanished in another overly dramatic pillar of fire.

Oddly, Miss D’Argento didn’t; she was left standing in the middle of the ballroom very much on her own. She looked at her watch, then the clipboard, then found an invisible piece of fluff on her lapel.

‘He’s forgotten you, hasn’t he?’ said Tiger after an awkward few seconds.