Dark Lord of Derkholm by Diana Wynne Jones Read Free Book Online Page A

Half the wizards prudently ducked underneath. Several vanished. Chairs fell over, and cups and mugs. Even Mr. Addis put his hands nervously over his head. But Ringlet, still squealing mightily, struggled about in the air and managed to right herself in time to spread her stubby little white wings. Violently flapping and squealing hysterically, she got control inches from the table and flew screaming down the length of it, just rising in time to miss Mr. Chesney and then rising again to swoop up to the roof. The whole herd took off from the tiles joyfully to meet her, flapping, grunting, and bawling like a disturbed pink rookery.
    Shona dashed past Blade and fled in through the front door. He could see her there, and Elda with her, inside the hall, clutching one another and shaking with laughter. He marveled that Callette could sit there on her haunches looking so solemnly innocent. He took his hat off to her. He wanted badly to giggle himself, until he looked at Mr. Chesney. Mr. Chesney had not moved, except to wipe the blood off himself. He was just sitting there, waiting for the interruption to stop.
    â€œTake it away, and get a proper barrel of beer,” Derk told Callette. She heaved the vat up and tramped away with it without a word. “I’m sorry,” Derk said as wizards began cautiously reappearing from under the table or out of thin air and setting chairs upright again.
    â€œAccepted, but don’t let it occur again,” said Mr. Chesney. “Mr. Addis.”
    â€œRight.” Mr. Addis switched on his friendly smile again. “I’m now going on to the update of our rules, which you will find in this black book.” He passed a heavy little volume to Barnabas.
    Barnabas raised his hand. Then he paused, puffing a little from his recent dive under the table. “I think,” he said, “that as we have a new Dark Lord this year, I’d better appoint myself his Chief Minion, as the most experienced wizard here. Is that agreed?”
    A sigh ran around the table as the wizards saw the favorite job go out of their reach, but most of them nodded. “It won’t be the usual cushy post this year, anyway,” someone murmured.
    Barnabas smiled ruefully and gestured. Blade and Derk each found themselves holding a thick, shiny book labeled in gold “Wizard’s Bible.”
    â€œKeep this by you and consult it at all times,” Mr. Addis said, “and please note that the rules are here to be kept. We had a few slipups last year, which have resulted in changes. This year we require all Wizard Guides to make sure that a healer stays within a day’s trek of them. Healers have been instructed about this. And Wizard Guides are now officially required to ensure that all Pilgrims marked ‘expendable’ on their list meet with a brave and honorable end and have that end properly witnessed by other Pilgrims. Last year we had someone return home alive. And in another case, lack of witnesses caused searching inquiries from the Missing Persons Bureau. Let’s do better this year, shall we? And now I hand you over to my financial colleague, Mr. Bennet.”
    Callette came back and boomed another barrel down on the terrace. Everyone looked at it nervously, but when Blade opened the tap, it was beer.
    Mr. Bennet cleared his throat and opened his briefcase.
    It was hard to listen to Mr. Bennet. He had that boring kind of voice you shut your mind to. Derk sat leafing through the black book, wondering how he would ever learn all these rules. Ants that built real cities perhaps? Blade was busy handing out fresh beer and being surprised at how many wizards leaned forward and attended eagerly to Mr. Bennet. The word bonus seemed to interest them particularly. But all Blade gathered was that the Dark Lord was allowed a bonus if he thought up any interesting new evils, and Dad did not seem to be attending. After quite a long while Mr. Bennet was saying, “With the usual