Limpit Muskin & Company

'No, they're not, say the Fairies.'

'The article below it, you idiot!'

'Beaumont Suspects Foul Play,' Morgan tried again.

No sooner had he said those words than he turned deathly pale, and licked his lips nervously. He grabbed hold of the paper.

'All efforts to find the missing Earl of Beaumont's niece, Ophelia, have drawn a blank,' Morgan continued, 'and the finger of suspicion falls once more on the recently sacked 137 year-old Spellreader-cum-Court Joker, Margo the Miser.'

Morgan threw down the paper in disgust.

'Have you read how they described me?!' he said, outraged.

'Yes, I know,' Limpit said, 'they've called you a Spellreader! That's positively slanderous! You should write in and complain,' he chuckled to himself.

'Not that, Muskin, and you know it! They couldn't even get my bloody name and age right!'

'They never do!' Limpit said with a shrug. 'At least they only under-estimated your actual age.'

'Yes, I kn-' Morgan began to say, before stopping in mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open, and his grey tongue gradually rolling to a saliva-filled halt. He eyed the Halfman menacingly.

A moment of silence passed between the old acquaintances. They had never really been what you could call friends. Morgan would never have socialised with a Halfman, while Limpit, too, preferred the more useful company of the predictable.

Morgan sprang into life.

'You've got to do something, Limpit!'

'Me??' Limpit said, in mock disbelief.

'Yes, you! You've got to sort something out, and permanently this time.'

'It's cost me enough already to bail you out! I'm not made of money! And it's not as if I owe you anything, either!'

'I know!' whined Morgan, 'but pleeeeeeeeeeease!'

Morgan was now down on his knees.

'Get off my leg, Margo!'

'If you don't help me, Limpit, I swear I'll tell the Earl that it was all your doing that his niece disappeared, and that you sold her off to some gambling-addicted, moustachioed foreign race-horse owner for the price of five camels!'

Morgan tightened his grip on the Halfman.

'Relax, Morgan,' said Limpit, 'I've already been thinking about it.'

'You have??' exclaimed Morgan in delighted surprise.

He let go of Limpit and returned to his seat.

'Yes, and that's why I called both you and Butwin here tonight, to discuss our next plan of action.'

'Which is?'

'Wait until Butwin's here and I'll tell you it in full.'

The Spellreader jumped up and down in his seat in excitement.

'Oh, come on, tell me now!' he said childishly.

'Shut up and sit still,' Limpit ordered. 'I'm not going to waste my breath repeating it all over again to Butwin. You'll just have to wait until he gets here.'

'And when will that be?' Morgan complained.

'Well, like you,' Limpit said pointedly, 'he was supposed to be here half an hour ago.'

'Can't you just tell me now, and I'll tell Butwin so you won't have to?' Morgan persisted.

'No, I can't! You'll forget most of the plan, make up some rubbish, and Butwin will then wander off and rob a pig farm, or something!'

'Look, I'll write it down,' Morgan said, rummaging in his robes again.

'By the time you finish writing it down Butwin will probably have arrived, would want to know what we were talking about, and I'd have to start all over again. Be patient, and put your energies to something more useful, like thinking up ideas to help me make lots of money. If it wasn't for your antics I wouldn't be in this position, so I think it's the least you could do.'

Bailing out Morgan had cost Limpit a considerable sum, not to mention the amounts involved manufacturing enough evidence to convince the Earl that his niece was still alive.