Open Sesame by Tom Holt Read Free Book Online

the stitching under his left ear began to creak. ‘Valuable tip I could give you, if you made it worth my while.’
    ‘Go away.’
    The bear blinked. ‘You what?’
    ‘I said go away. Scram. I’ve got enough problems of my own without being hassled by cheap hustlers with stuffing coming out of their ribs. Go on, shoo.’
    ‘Jussa minute.’ The bear gestured feebly. ‘Don’ be like that, I’m only trying to help. But a bear’s gotta look after himself, right?’
    ‘You’ll be a bear with a sore head in a minute. Get lost.’
    ‘Look.’ The bear laid a huge, rather threadbare paw over Akram’s hand. ‘Come with me and see this guy, and then we’ll talk turkey. Can’t say fairer than that.’
    ‘Not without slurring your words you can’t. Sorry, but my mother told me never to go with strange bears.’
    The bear scowled; that is, its button eyes glared, and the three strands of cotton that served it for a mouth twitched downwards. ‘The hell with you, then,’ it said. ‘What’s the matter with you, anyhow? What’ve you got to lose?’
    He’s right, Akram thought. Apart from my seat at this bar, absolutely nothing. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘There’s a saying in my part of the world, never look a rat-arsed soft toy in the mouth.’ Not unless, the proverb goes on, you like the sight of nicotine-stained teeth; but he left that bit out. ‘I was being churlish. Lead on.’
    ‘Not sure I want to now.’ Akram suppressed an impatient remark. ‘Let’s see if another drink’ll help. Excuse me, miss!’
    Three large whiskies later, the bear slid off its stool, slithered on the worn-out felt pads that served it for feet and wobbled towards the door, with Akram following self-consciously behind. He had absolutely no idea what to expect - except maybe several hundred thousand sozzled bears, if they’d managed to find an off-licence by now; when not on duty, teddy-bears supplement their income by sitting outside shops with hats lying beside them until the shopkeepers pay them to go away - but he no longer cared particularly much.
    The bear staggered on for about a quarter of an hour, stopping from time to time behind bushes and large rocks. Occasionally he sang. Akram was just beginning to wish he was back inside his nice snug oil-jar when he found himself outside a pair of impressive-looking gates, through which he could see a long drive, a wide lawn and several large, striped tents. There was a band playing in the distance; a lively, bouncy tune with lots for the trumpets to do. People were dancing. It all looked rather jolly, until a huge man in a black suit with dark glasses appeared out of nowhere and stood in front of the gates.
    ‘What you want?’ he growled.
    ‘Invited,’ mumbled the bear. ‘To the wedding.’
    ‘You?’
    ‘Bride’s bear,’ said the bear portentously. ‘An’ guest.’
    The guard thought for a moment, muttered something into a radio, shrugged and jerked his head. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘You’re expected.’
    The gates opened, and the bear staggered through, with Akram trotting behind. He was beginning to have his doubts about all this, and said as much to the bear.
    ‘You wanna get out, right?’
    ‘Right. Very much so. But… ‘
    ‘So. Ask the Man. If anybody can fix it, he can.’
    Akram frowned. ‘What man?’
    ‘The Man.’ The bear shook his head, apparently astounded to discover that there was still such ignorance in the world. ‘And today’s his daughter’s wedding day. Man, you sure got lucky.’
    ‘I did?’ Akram glanced back at the guard, and the closing gates. He couldn’t see what made them open and close, but it surely was very strong. ‘Oh good,’ he said.
    If you want a wish granted, ask a fairy.
    There are, of course, fairies and fairies. The wish-granting side of the business is looked after by the fairy godparents. Of these, the fairy godmothers are generally no bother at all, provided you’re home on time and don’t mind travelling by