up, Loitus,’ Tick Raw said. ‘We don’t want the Autarch’s heel sliding in shite now, do we?’
The two parties then went their separate ways, Tick Raw leading Pie and Gentle off through the labyrinth.
‘We want to thank you,’ Gentle said.
‘What for?’ Tick Raw asked him, aiming a kick at a goat that wandered across his path.
Talking us out of trouble,’ Gentle replied. ‘We’ll be on our way now.’
‘But you’ve got to come back with me,’ Tick Raw said.
There’s no need.’
‘Need? There’s every need! Have I got this right?’ he said to Pie. ‘Is there need or isn’t there?’
‘We’d certainly like the benefit of your insights,’ Pie said. ‘We’re strangers here. Both of us.’ The mystif spoke in an oddly stilted fashion, as if it wanted to say more, but couldn’t. ‘We need re-educating,’ it said.
‘Oh?’ said Tick Raw. ‘Really?’
‘Who is this Autarch?’ Gentle asked.
‘He rules the Reconciled Dominions, from Yzordderrex. He’s the greatest power in the Imajica.’
‘And he’s coming here?’
‘That’s the rumour. He’s losing his grip in the Fourth, and he knows it. So he’s decided to put in a personal appearance. Officially, he’s visiting Patashoqua, but this is where the trouble’s brewing.’
‘Do you think he’ll definitely come?’ Pie asked.
‘If he doesn’t the whole of the Imajica’s going to know he’s afraid to show his face. Of course that’s always been a part of his fascination, hasn’t it? All these years he’s ruled the Dominions without anybody really knowing what he looks like. But the glamour’s worn off. If he wants to avoid revolution he’s going to have to prove he’s a charismatic.’
‘Are you going to get blamed for telling Hammeryock we were your friends?’ Gentle asked.
‘Probably, but I’ve been accused of worse. Besides, it’s almost true. Any stranger here’s a friend of mine.’ He cast a glance at Pie. ‘Even a mystif,’ he said. ‘The people in this dungheap have no poetry in them. I know I should be more sympathetic. They’re refugees, most of them. They’ve lost their lands, their houses, their tribes. But they’re so concerned with their itsy-bitsy little sorrows they don’t see the broader picture.’
‘And what is the broader picture?’ Gentle asked.
‘I think that’s better discussed behind closed doors,’ Tick Raw said, and would not be drawn any further on the subject until they were secure in his hut.
The hut was spartan in the extreme. Blankets on a board for a bed; another board for a table; some moth-eaten pillows to squat on.
‘This is what I’m reduced to,’ Tick Raw said to Pie, as though the mystif understood, perhaps even shared, his sense of humiliation. ‘If I’d moved on it might have been different. But I couldn’t of course.’
‘Why not?’ Gentle asked.
Tick Raw gave him a quizzical look, glancing over at Pie, then looking back at Gentle again.
‘I’d have thought that was obvious,’ he said. ‘I’ve kept my post. I’m here until a better day dawns.’
‘And when will that be?’ Gentle enquired.
‘You tell me,’ Tick Raw replied, a certain bitterness entering his voice. ‘Tomorrow wouldn’t be too soon. This is no frigging life for a great sway-worker. I mean, look at it!’ He cast his eyes around the room. ‘And let me tell you, this is the lap of luxury compared with some of the hovels I could show you. People living in their own excrement, grubbing around for food. And all in sight of one of the richest cities in the Dominions. It’s obscene. At least I’ve got food in my belly. And I get some respect, you know. Nobody crosses me. They know I’m an evocator, and they keep their distance. Even Hammeryock. He hates me with a passion, but he’d never dare send the Nullianac to kill me in case it failed, and I came after him. Which I would. Oh yes. Gladly. Pompous little fuck.’
‘You should just leave,’ Gentle said. ‘Go and live in Patashoqua.’
‘Please,’ Tick Raw said, his tone vaguely pained. ‘Must we play games? Haven’t I proved my integrity? I saved your lives.’
‘And we’re grateful,’ Gentle said.
‘I don’t want gratitude,’ Tick Raw said.
‘What do you want then? Money?’
At this, Tick Raw rose from his cushion, his face reddening, not with blushes but with rage.
‘I don’t deserve this,’ he said.
‘Deserve what?’ said Gentle.
‘I’ve lived in shite,’ Tick Raw said, ‘but I’m damned if I’m going to eat it! All right, so I’m not a great Maestro. I wish I were! I wish Uter Musky was still alive, and he could have waited here all these years instead of me. But he’s gone, and I’m all that’s left! Take me or leave me!’
The outburst completely befuddled Gentle. He glanced across at Pie, looking for some guidance, but the mystif had hung its head.
‘Maybe we’d better leave,’ Gentle said.
‘Yes! Why don’t you do that?’ Tick Raw yelled. Get the fuck out of here. Maybe you can find Musky’s grave, and resurrect him. He’s out there on the Mount. I buried him with these two hands!’ His voice was close to cracking now. There was grief in it as well as rage. ‘You can dig him up the same way!’
Gentle started to get to his feet, sensing that any further words from him would only push Tick Raw closer to an eruption or a breakdown, neither of which he wanted to witness. But the mystif reached up and took hold of Gentle’s arm.
‘Wait,’ Pie said.
‘The man wants us out,’ Gentle replied.
‘Let me talk to Tick for a few moments.’
The evocator glared fiercely at the mystif.
‘I’m in no mood for seductions,’ he warned.
Pie shook his head. ‘Neither am I,’ it said, glancing at Gentle.
‘You want me out of here?’ he said.
‘Not for long.’
Gentle shrugged, though he felt rather less easy with the idea of leaving Pie in Tick Raw’s company than his manner suggested. There was something about the way the two of them stared and studied each other that made him think there was some hidden agenda
