Free The Last Days Of The Edge Of The World by Brian Stableford

appearances, not with real things at all. Haven’t you ever seen a conjurer at work?”
    This remark had a slight hint of insult about it, but Coronado diplomatically let it go.
    “I told the king where you’d been and what you’d done,” mused Coronado. “He wasn’t very happy about it. I didn’t tell him about the rest of the verses. It didn’t seem to be the right time. Deep down, you know, I’m not at all sure that he wants this to go through. I almost think that he’d like to find a legitimate excuse to call it off. The battle of conscious desires and unconscious prejudices, you know.”
    “I know,” said Ewan. “Only too well. My conscious desire tells me to get out of this now, and never mind the consequences. But there’s something inside me that won’t let it go. This is important. I think it’s one of those things that once you’re involved with it you can’t back out. Do you see what I mean?”
    “Certainly. It’s like being prime minister of Caramorn. I have to save the kingdom, if only to protect my reputation. It’s difficult to get another job if the last one ended in total disaster. I don’t think I’m ready to retire yet, and the government couldn’t pay my pension anyway.”
    “It’s a hard life,” commented Ewan, in a voice not overburdened with sympathy.
    “It certainly is,” said the elder statesman, shuffling away towards the door. As he went into the corridor he was desperately trying to think of another way—preferably an easier one. It was nice, he thought, to be a man with power—a man steering his own course through life towards a self-selected destiny. But it took a great deal of effort to steer, and the sea of life seemed full of the most wicked rocks and reefs.
    This kingdom, he thought, doesn’t deserve a man like me. And I certainly don’t deserve a kingdom like this. Why, oh why, couldn’t I have gone west years ago?
    He realized that in his inmost thoughts he didn’t really believe that a marriage between Damian and Helen would ever take place, or that it could save the kingdom if it did.
    “No good will come of it all,” he muttered beneath his breath. “No good at all. But when your back’s to the wall, you have to try, haven’t you?”
    In the council chamber he found Alcover practising dealing cards from the bottom of a deck and Hallowbrand earnestly studying a cookery book in lieu of food.
    “Where’s Bellegrande?” he asked.
    “Set out for Heliopolis this morning,” grunted Alcover. “Said he was going to try to negotiate some foreign aid. If you ask me he’s trying to get a job as a translator or something.”
    Coronado groaned as things began to seem even blacker.
    It looked as though the rats were about to start leaving the sinking ship.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Unlike Moonmansion, which was only a fake, Castle Mirasol had a moat, and also a great wooden drawbridge to span it. The moat had long ago dried up, but it still represented a barrier. The drawbridge was up and could only be let down from the inside.
    Helen sat down at the edge of the moat and looked up at the ivied grey walls, whose worn battlements loomed high above her. The day was sullen and overcast, with rainclouds gathering ominously overhead. It was not the kind of day one would normally choose for a pleasant walk—or, for that matter, a heroic adventure—but Helen had not had the opportunity to pick and choose.
    She wore a heavy jacket, denim jeans and pair of sensible shoes, so she wasn’t unduly worried about the weather, but she was apprehensive lest her father should wonder why she had come out on such a day. He had ways of finding such things out. She was also worried about the problem of getting into Castle Mirasol. She wasn’t afraid. She knew the castle was haunted, but she was too familiar with ghosts to let that worry her. Her anxiety was simply caused by the practical difficulties of getting in.
    Had she been possessed of a more powerful species of magic there