The Spell of Undoing Read Online Free Page A

touch it you have five minutes to get out of the building.’
    ‘What happens after that?’
    ‘That's when the billing begins.’ Fontagu didn't meet her eyes as he said this.
    Tab was having serious second thoughts. ‘Maybe we should employ a professional thief,’ she said. Now her voice was sounding squeaky. ‘Crocodile Sal's still around. She's –’
    ‘Ten silver moons,’ hissed Fontagu. ‘Besides, you owe me. Rescue from that gutter. Protection against one seriously ugly troll. And you told me you are the best thief around!’
    ‘Yeah, but … ’
    ‘No time for buts,’ said Fontagu. ‘And this Sal girl isn't here and most of her thieving friends followed the army. No, we've got to move now. Here, let me hoist you up.’
    Tab found herself placing a foot in Fontagu's cupped hands. ‘I still think –’
    ‘Allow me to do the thinking, Tab. On the count of three, then,’ said Fontagu. ‘One, two, three!’
    Tab catapulted up. She clung to the edge of the drainpipe then swung her legs up to gain a better purchase. Straddling the pipe she regained her breath. ‘It doesn't half stink up here,’ she said. ‘You sure it's rain water?’ The colour of it turned her stomach. Although she'd swept muck from the streets, she never wanted to crawl through it.
    ‘Time is of the essence, remember!’ Fontagu called cheerily.
    Tab scowled. Fontagu hadn't mentioned anything about squeezing through narrow pipes that dripped sewage. Still, there were ten silver moons to consider. She slid one foot then the other into the pipe, took a deep breath, and began crawling backwards along its length. It was a tight squeeze. Anyone even slightly bigger would never have managed it.
    She'd learnt that breathing through the mouth was much better than through the nose when shovelling muck. This helped her reach the kitchen without losing her pie. She forced open a rusted grille and wriggled from the pipe, sprawling onto a cold flagstone floor. No alarms had sounded, and she blinked back sudden tears.
    An angry buzzing sound filled the room. Stepping carefully, she crept past the stoves and stopped at the sight of a pot of rancid dripping. It was crawling with flies, and this was the source of the buzzing.
    Used as she was to sickening smells, this one still managed to make her feel queasy. She hurried over to what looked like the door to a pantry and swung it open. Nothing looked remotely like a grinder. She snuck over to another door and easing it open she stifled her elation.
    Tab reached for the grinder handle, then suddenly stopped. Did she really know what she was doing? There was something fishy about Fontagu. How did he really know where to find the icefire gem? She didn't buy the bit about the Archon's spies. If they knew where it was, they would have stolen it back themselves. And was it really a coincidence that he had been passing the drain hole just as she got stuck? Had Mrs Figgin set her up? If so, it had been a rather elaborate way to press-gang her …
    Tab was furious with herself. But she was here now, and whatever else might or might not be true, she needed the money. On top of all this, a terrible loss burned deep inside her. There had been no alarms. And that meant that either Fontagu's bronze bracelet really did work, or she had no magic in her, not even the tiniest bit.
    ‘I don't care,’ she muttered to herself. She wiped away angry tears then yanked savagely on the lever. A wall laden with shelves of jars and bottles slid aside and a startled rat scampered out of view.

    Tab froze.
    The icefire gem was a crystal the size of an orange. It glowed with a beautiful bluish light, but that wasn't what bedazzled her. Deep inside it, burnt a living flame. And suddenly, it flared.
    Tab felt a blinding shaft of pain in her head. ‘Eek!’ she yelped, staggering sideways, groping blindly to steady herself.
    She took a deep breath then, and forced the pain away, squinting at the icefire gem. Was this some magical