Free Unexpected Magic by Diana Wynne Jones Page A

into a large receptacle near the door. “I can’t say!” I heard him say above the crash of breaking crockery.
    After that he would listen to nothing I said. His one idea was that we must go to the living room. “To sit elegantly, Lady,” he explained. “And I will bring the sweet foods and the juice to enjoy ourselves with there.”
    There seemed no stopping him. He surged out of the kitchen with an armload of peculiar receptacles and a round jug of “juice” balanced between those and his chin, weaving this way and that among the devices in the windowless room. These flared and flickered and the unsupported knife danced in the air as I pursued him. I felt as much as saw the fluted glass structure changing shape again. The sound of it dragged at the very roots of me.
    â€œEggs,” I said desperately. “How do I call the Master? Please.”
    â€œI can’t say,” he said, reeling on into the living room.
    Some enlightenment came to me. Eggs meant exactly what he said. I had noticed that when he said “I don’t not know,” this did not mean that he did not know; it usually seemed to be something he could not explain. Now I saw that when he said “I can’t say,” he meant that he was, for some reason, unable to tell me about the Master. So, I thought, struggling on against the drag of the chiming apparatus, this means I must use a little cunning to get him to tell me.
    In the living room Eggs was laying out dishes of sweets and little balls of cheese near the center of the large blue sofa-like block. I sat down—at one end of it. Eggs promptly came and sat beside me, grinning and breathing “juice” fumes. I got up and moved to the other end of the sofa. Eggs took the hint. He stayed where he was, sighing, and poured himself another papery cup of his “juice.”
    â€œEggs,” I began. Then I noticed that the wolf Hugh was crouched on the veranda facing into the room, with his brindled nose on his paws and his sharp haunches outlined against the sunset roses. Beyond him were the backs of the two others, apparently asleep. Well, wolves always leave at least one of their pack on guard when they sleep. I told myself that Hugh had drawn sentry duty and went back to thinking how I could induce Eggs to tell me how to get hold of this Master. By this time I felt I would go mad unless someone explained this situation to me.
    â€œEggs”—I began again—“when I ask you how I fetch the Master, you tell me you can’t say, isn’t that right?” He nodded eagerly, obligingly, and offered me a sweet. I took it. I was doing well so far. “That means that something’s stopping you telling me, doesn’t it?” That lost him. His eyes slid from mine. I looked where his eyes went and found that Hugh had been moving, in the unnoticed silent way a wild creature can. He was now crouched right inside the room. The light feral eyes were fixed on me. Help! I thought. But I had to go on with what I was saying before Eggs’s crazed mind lost it. “So I’m going to take it that when you say, ‘I can’t say,’ you mean ‘Yes,’ Eggs. It’s going to be like a game.”
    Eggs’s face lit up. “I like games, Lady!”
    â€œGood,” I said. “The game is called Calling-the-Master. Now I know you can’t tell me direct how to call him, but the rule is that you’re allowed to give me hints.”
    That was a mistake. “And what is the hint, Lady?” Eggs asked, in the greatest delight. “Tell me and I will give it.”
    â€œOh—I—er—” I said. And I felt something cold gently touch my hand. I looked down to find Hugh standing by my knees. Beyond him Theo was standing up, bristling. “What do you want now?” I said to Hugh. His eyes slid across the plates of sweets, and he sighed, like a dog. “Not sweets,” I