Free The Questory of Root Karbunkulus - Quill by Kamilla Reid

been
detailing the behaviour of the HaloEm for the past half hour. It
seems quite clear to me where one might begin to look.”
    No one messed with Lord Blick. He had a
daunting way of ensuring that. And though most times his own son,
Lian detested this about him, in this moment Lian was rather
pleased that his father had the same effect on bullies like Kor
whose shoulders now hunched.
    “Ahem…will there be anything else, Master
Ibbbs?” Studaben Picklepug had decided that he should intervene. It
was getting late and he had yet to speak with Baron Valteez who had
recently come into a substantial inheritance by way of his mother,
estate tycoon Empranza Valteez. The Guardian was eager to offer
condolences, which had an uncanny resemblance to tax incentives. He
shook Milwart’s hand and resumed his position at the podium.
    “And now we have a very special treat for you
this evening…all the way from…”
    A whisper from behind the curtain said
    “Edmonville!”
    “From Edmonville…here for your entertaining
pleasure, I am pleased to introduce the talented troupe of the Lord
Sclerous Players!”
     
    When the last line was uttered and the Silken
Oxback crowned, the audience blinked, then applauded. It was over,
thank goodness!
    “Actually it wasn’t that bad” said Dwyn. “It
was just the Oxback. He stunk. The rest were okay.”
    The Oxback took his bows longer than anyone
else. Even as the lights were dimming, and the applause had been
spent he held out for an encore. Master Hillywur Gub finally forced
him off.
    “Well now.” The Guardian reclaimed his
spotlight. “It seems we have come to the end of our festivities
this evening. Thank you, fellow supporters, friends and families.
Thank you all for sharing this momentous occasion. I will be on
hand for your inquiries and or interviews for the remainder of the
evening. And to the teams, if you have any questions, your new
guides will be happy to…”
    Suddenly. the massive stained glass doors
swung open and there he was, as if by some special arrangement with
the stars, arriving perfectly on cue.
    Ernest Skubblenob was muttering to himself. A
huge blinking contraption was on top of his head, practically
burying it, and his fingers were spidering over some sort of remote
control. When the startled room went silent, his words were given
clarity.
    “Valadors” he said and at once Root’s face
turned the color of a beet. A mortified beet.
    The old inventor, quite familiar to most in
the room, held out his remote and fumbled along, walking into
chairs, knocking off hats and unknowingly inciting a chorus of
amused laughter. He stopped at Kor’s table.
    “Valadors?”
    Kor scoffed. “Don’t look at me, old man.” He
pointed at Root’s table and as Skubblenob walked away he added.
“What? Did you lose them with your pants?”
    Snorts of laughter. Root slunk lower in her
chair.
    Ernest Skubblenob would not look up. He
hadn’t heard the ‘pants’ remark; being too focused on the
Tempometre’s readings. Though Tamik Chillenly helped him turn in
the right direction he continued to trip over everything in his
path. Eventually people would grab hold of his shoulders and guide
him along or simply move out of his way or tip the remote away from
them.
    At last Ernest Skubblenob’s burning hand
pointed directly at the Valadors, now hidden under their table.
When they had no choice but to reappear it was only to see Ernest
Skubblenob suddenly fling the red-hot remote control from his
burning hands.
    No one, not even Root could find pleasure in
what happened next. The scream was far too piercing, the tension
too taut. The embarrassment too fresh.
    Hyvis Punyun leapt from her seat. Her throat
opened with such fury that the deadly shriek of a Pistol Crab lay
humbled. Upon her glittering, lavender haute couture gown there now
lay a searing burn mark the shape of a rectangle. Smoke was still
rising along its edges.
    Ernest Skubblenob had retrieved his
Tempometre using