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Pixies
you'll get one," said Fleabane. "The more witnesses there are the better. Now then. Tell me how that vehicle works."
"No idea," said Snakeweed.
"Take him away," said Fleabane to a japegrin with a thick, ugly wand. "And make sure the closing spell on the door of his room is word perfect."
The white-robed lickit started to sidle away.
"Hey!" yelled Snakeweed. "You're in this with me, Archie! Don't you dare slink off!"
"Not so fast, lickit," said Fleabane. Then a strange expression crossed his face, as though he'd just smelled something unpleasant. The japegrin next to him seemed to have smelled something, too. It wouldn't be long before someone put two and two together and came up with sinistrom stench.
The lickit glanced around. There were far too many japegrins
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for even the most energetic of killing sprees; he'd be better off out of it. He switched to his four-legged sinistrom form, banking on the surprise element to give him enough time to complete his transformation. Then he legged it, hoping that no one would have the presence of mind to aim their wand at him. He was nearly at the road when a shower of sparks singed his coat. But the main strike had been somewhere to his right; he took evasive action, and the next hail of sparks landed to his left. Then he was on the main highway and out of range.
Fleabane signaled to two of his militia. "After him," he said.
The two japegrins looked at each other. It was clear that neither of them fancied in the slightest the idea of hunting down a sinistrom.
"Now, not next week!" shouted Fleabane.
The japegrins looked sheepish and ran off toward the road.
Pignut laughed. "They'll find the nearest bar and down a flagon of fertle-juice," he said to Felix. "Who'd want to come face-to-face with a sinistrom? They've got the most powerful jaws of any living creature, and they don't mind if their food isn't quite dead when they start to eat it. First one I've seen, I'll be honest about it. What a morning. And to think we were here, on the spot! Just wait till I tell my kid."
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***
4
***
If Felix hadn't been so nervous about singing the anthem to Fleabane, he would have found the next hour's wait quite amusing. A japegrin had been instructed to move the Land Rover, but he didn't have a clue how to go about it. The headlights came on and went off again. The windows went up and down a few times, the turn signal flashed, the windshield wipers zipped from side to side, and the washer sent up a jet of water. When the engine finally roared into life it became apparent that the vehicle had been left in gear, as it leaped forward like a startled gazelle and then stalled. The japegrin punched the steering wheel in fury, and the sudden blare of the horn made everyone nearly jump out of their skins.
Eventually Felix and Pignut were allowed into the palace, although the wise-hoof was told to remain outside.
"Right," barked Fleabane. "What's your petition? You get three minutes, and then I see the next in line."
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Pignut handed him the sheet of paper with the words on it and said, "The anthem, Your Excellency. Turpsik the one-eye thought you might like to hear it sung."
Fleabane leaned back in his chair, rested his hands on his portly stomach, and said, "Go ahead."
"Sam's going to do it," said Fleabane. "He's a song merchant."
Once again Felix wondered who Sam was for a moment before he remembered. He took a deep breath and went for the first note. Nothing happened. He cleared his throat and tried again. This time his voice obeyed him, but he was glad he knew the words by heart -- if he'd had to refer to the song sheet, his shaking hands would have betrayed his lack of professionalism. He managed to finish the anthem without making any mistakes and heaved a silent sigh of relief.
"Like it," said Fleabane. "Nice undercurrent of violence. It's arrived just in time for Snakeweed's trial, as well. Tell you what, why don't I give you free tickets for the front row, and then you can
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