I smiled at him and he smiled back. It was my way of telling him not to worry, and his way of agreeing that he shouldn’t.

‘I’m going to go and see Moobin,’ I told him. ‘I need to know how the wizards are feeling. Keep well away from Lady Mawgon and I’ll see you later.’

Big Magic

Big Magic

I found Wizard Moobin in his room. He had repaired the door, but was still busy tidying up his room after the explosion. There was almost nothing unbroken. The power of magic can be devastating when uncontrolled. He was there with Half Price, Full Price’s very similar little brother. They were so similar, in fact, that I often wondered about the fact that you never saw them together. There was someone else in the room, too, someone I didn’t recognise.

‘Ah,’ said Moobin when he saw me, ‘it’s you. This is Mr Stamford, a lapsed sorcerer from Mercia. He’ll be staying with me for a few days. Mr Stamford, this is Jennifer Strange.’

Stamford was a sallow man with greasy hair. He peered at me cautiously and shook my hand.

‘You’re here because of the Dragondeath?’ I asked.

‘I think so,’ he replied after a moment’s thought. ‘You know that feeling when you go into a room and then can’t remember what it is you’re there for?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s exactly like that. I don’t know why I’m here, I just feel that I should be.’

And he fell silent.

‘He’s the third to arrive since this morning,’ said Wizard Moobin. He paused for a moment. ‘Tiger Prawns was out of order doing what he did, you know.’

‘I know. He was doing it to stop me resigning.’

‘It was noble, I grant you that. We respect honour. Sadly, Lady Mawgon doesn’t. She wanted to have you both replaced and asked Mother Zenobia to send a shortlist of new foundlings so we could start interviewing.’

‘That’s not how it works.’

‘It’s how Lady Mawgon works.’

‘What happened?’

‘Mother Zenobia told her they’d run out.’

I smiled. Mother Zenobia had hundreds of foundlings, but she was supporting Tiger and myself by telling Lady Mawgon there weren’t any. It must have made Mawgon even more angry.

‘So what’s she doing now?’

‘Lady Mawgon? Marching around the corridors gnashing her teeth, I expect. If ever there was a time to go and hide, this might be it.’

It seemed a good time to tell Moobin what had happened. He was, after all, the sorcerer I got on best with, and Mr Zambini’s successor, if there was one.

‘I’m the last Dragonslayer.’

‘Yes,’ said Moobin, ‘I saw it on the news. You’re no longer a bystander, Jennifer, you’re a player.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed, ‘but how?’