Craig Shaw Gardner - Wuntvor 01 - A Difficulty With Dwarves

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A Difficulty With Dwarves
Verse the First in The Ballad of Wuntvor
Craig Shaw Gardner
CONTENTS
ONE.3
TWO..8
THREE.15
FOUR..24
FIVE.34
SIX..41
SEVEN..46
EIGHT.55
NINE.61
TEN..68
ELEVEN..75
TWELVE.81
THIRTEEN..86
FOURTEEN..91
FIFTEEN..96
SIXTEEN..101
SEVENTEEN..106
EIGHTEEN..111
NINETEEN..116
TWENTY..124
ONE
‘Even wizards sometimes have bad days. I shall give you an all-too-common example:
‘The magician, about to begin a spell of great importance, discovers that all his duckwort has gone bad
and he is completely out of eye of newt. And it gets no better! The sorcerer quickly dons his walking
robes and strolls down to the corner alchemist, only to discover they’ve had duckwort back ordered for
months, and what newt eyes they have in stock are far too small and altogether of the wrong color.
‘Well, the good magician is far too resourceful to let a couple of missing ingredients spoil a perfectly
good spell. The mage quickly returns to his eyrie, and attempts some prudent substitutions, say batwing
and dried salamander’s blood, with perhaps some chives tossed in to give the whole thing color. And the
potion looks correct at last! The sorcerer begins to chant the spell that will bring his day’s work to
fruition. But wait! The pot is burbling when it should be boiling! What could be wrong? (See footnote)
‘The mage quickly checks a nearby reference work, perhaps the forty-six volume Universal Guide to
Magic, or my own much more concise When Bad Spells Happen to Good Wizards. There, to his horror,
the magician sees that, through an almost infinitesimal error, he has transformed a simple
weather-predicting spell into a conjuration that will destroy himself, his loved ones, and every other living
thing in this hemisphere!
Footnote: The apt student would have known instantly that our sorcerer should have used parsley
instead of chives for coloration.
‘The wizard somehow manages to stop the spell in time, but ruins a perfectly good pair of boots in the
process. By now the wise magician will have faced up to one inevitable conclusion: That this day will be
one of misfortune, not only for the wizard, but for all those with whom he comes in contact.
‘But the resourceful mage should not despair that the fates conspire against him! Rather, the prudent
sorcerer should take what small advantage of the situation still remains available, and spend the remainder
of the day visiting one’s mother-in-law or insisting upon an immediate audit by the royal tax collectors.’
Ebenezum, greatest magician in all the Western Kingdoms
MAGIC FOR THE MILLIONS:
A HOME STUDY COURSE
(fourth edition), General Introduction
It seemed like everybody was sneezing.
‘Oh, Wuntvor,’ Norei whispered. Her beautiful green eyes looked deep into mine. ‘Isn’t it terrible?’
The sound echoed through the Great Hall in which we stood, perhaps a hundred different wizards
sneezing as one; high sneezes, low sneezes, short little shushing sounds, and huge, long nasal blasts. As
difficult as it was to tear my eyes away from the beautiful young witch by my side, this true love that I had
found at last, the nasal avalanche was far too overwhelming. With great trepidation I turned away from
my beloved and looked down to the far end of the hall.
My worst fears were confirmed. The great oak door, behind which the wizards had conferred in order
to find a cure for my master Ebenezum, had been flung open. The sorcerers, so noble and grand when
they had entered that room some hours before, now staggered out of it one by one, their once-fine robes
askew and torn.
But wait! One man strode through the wizard’s ragged ranks, a look of grim determination on his
dark-skinned face. Two arms clad in brilliant silver rose above the sneezing mass as this magnificent
wizard, this mage among mages, cried ‘Enough!’
The wizards nearby held their noses and turned to watch their fellow.
‘This will happen no more!’ The silver-clad wizard cried in a voice as deep as the farthest depths of the
Inland Sea. ‘I will banish this curse, as I call upon the spirits!’
His hands wove a pattern through the air too fast for the eye to see. ‘Come forth, oh mighty waa ...” He
paused. ‘Come forth, oh mighty waa . . . waa . . . WAAAA . . . .’ His voice seemed to rise with every
word. He stopped and swallowed, his dark brows furrowed in concentration.
‘Enough!’ he began again. ‘This will happen no . . . WAAAACHOOO!’
His sneeze tore his silver robes in half as the multitude of mages about him answered in kind. The entirety
of the Great Hall trembled with their distress. The silver wizard was soon lost beneath the sneezing mass.
Something must have gone horribly wrong. My master and I had traveled here, to far and fabled Vushta,
the city of a thousand forbidden delights, in hopes of ending our quest - a quest that began when my
master was forced into battle with the dread rhyming demon Guxx Unfufadoo! My master won that first
battle, but discovered that he suffered from a sinister aftereffect. From that moment onwards, whenever
the wizard Ebenezum was even in the presence of magic, he would begin to sneeze uncontrollably!
Now, a malady of this sort might have driven a lesser magician to despair, but not my master! Ebenezum
set out to find a cure, even if it meant traveling to far and fabled Vushta, seat of wizardly learning for all
the Western and Central Kingdoms!
So travel to Vushta we did, learning on our way of a sinister plot by the forces of the Netherhells led by
the dread rhyming Guxx! We redoubled our efforts to reach our destination, only to discover that the
demons had spirited away the very city that was our goal and hidden it deep within their dwelling place
beneath the earth, the dreaded Netherhells!
Well, there was nothing to do then but rescue Vushta as well. Since there was no legitimate hero handy,
I was sent in the hero’s stead, and with the help of good luck and noble companions, Vushta was
rescued at last. In return for my service, the greatest wizards of the greatest city on the face of the globe
had gathered together, all for the sake of Ebenezum. Now my master’s malady would be cured, and all
set right with the world.
Or would it?
Wizards were still emerging from the room at the far end of the hall, climbing over the bodies of their
fallen comrades, the latter now convulsed with sneezing fits. It was a gruesome sight. I swallowed hard
and turned back to my beloved.
‘Yes,’ I replied, looking once again deep into Norei’s eyes.
‘It is truly -‘
‘Terrible!’ The old wizard Snorphosio called as he approached us, carefully stepping around or over the
prone wizards in his path. ‘Instead of curing Ebenezum’s malady, he has given it to all of them. I knew
this would happen!’ He coughed nervously into a thin, almost birdlike hand.
‘They took too direct an approach! I knew it! Something of this magnitude needs to be studied for
weeks at least. Sometimes even years!’ Snorphosio mopped his brow with a gray scholar’s sleeve.
‘Everyone knows that sorcery is an elusive art. Well’ - he paused and took a breath - ‘perhaps everyone
doesn’t know that, but at least wizards do ... well, good wizards know the truth of what I’m saying.’ He
glanced distractedly at the roomful of sneezing sorcerers. ‘Well, good wizards should know the truth I
speak. But then again, what is the nature of truth? And how do wizards approach that nature? For that
matter, how does nature approach wizards? In fact, is there truth in natural wizardry, or is there rather -‘
‘Indeed,’ I replied in an attempt to cut short the learned sorcerer’s musings. At least Snorphosio seemed
to be calming down. Before, he had been so upset that he had actually managed to talk in short, coherent
sentences. Now, however, the never-ending theorist deep in his soul seemed to be reasserting itself.
‘Yes, you are quite right,’ Snorphosio replied to my surprise. ‘This is no time for theory. It is time for
action. I say there!’ His voice rose above the collective sneezing. ‘Fellow wizards! Can any of you catch
your breath long enough to tell me what happened in the other room?’
Half a dozen wizards tried to speak at once. None of them uttered more than a phrase before they
rejoined their sneezing comrades.
‘This is even more serious than I imagined!’ Snorphosio exclaimed. ‘But then, who is to say how truly
serious a situation can be? And who can put a limit on imagination? And exactly how serious is
imagination, anyway? Or how imaginary is the limit of seriousness -‘
The theoretical wizard’s body shook with an effort of will. ‘No! I have no time for these musings. It is
time to act!’ He paused. ‘But, is not musing in itself an action? And what if you act on musing? Is that not
-‘
Snorphosio shook himself again, clenching his fists. ‘Action!’ He looked again at the mass of ailing
wizards. ‘Colleagues!’ he called. ‘Please, hold your breath for but a moment. I will perform a short magic
eradication spell, after which we may talk in peace.’
The noise level dropped considerably as the sorcerers attempted to comply. Snorphosio got halfway
through his spell before he, too, began to sneeze.
‘Hold!’ came a clear voice from the room in which the wizards had conferred. ‘Go no further!’
Norei and I turned to look across the disabled wizards, at the meeting room where this had all begun.
One more wizard strode boldly from the room, also seemingly unaffected by the magical malady. The
large mass of sneezing wizards filling the hallway about us had raised a great deal of dust. It was difficult
to see clearly. Still, there was something familiar about the way the man carried himself, his long, white
beard, and dark blue robes.
The mage paused at the edge of the sneezing mass of sorcerers. ‘Indeed,’ he intoned.
With that word, I knew. It was my master, the greatest wizard in all the Western Kingdoms, Ebenezum!
‘Master!’ I called, delighted to see him so self-possessed in the midst of this chaos. ‘Did the wizards
succeed? Are you cured?’
The mage frowned at the mass of magicians before him. He pulled absently at his beard, then turned his
gaze from the shuddering mass to look at me.
‘Alas, no.’ He sniffed delicately into a sleeve threaded with silver. ‘I have but had the malady somewhat
longer than these others, and thus have learned to control it better.’ He shook his head. “Tis a sorry sight,
to see the amassed wisdom of Vushta brought to such a pass.’
‘Pardon me, good wizard,’ Norei interjected, ‘but how could such a thing have happened?’
‘Indeed,’ Ebenezum replied as he wove through the disabled mages. ‘Perhaps if I got a bit closer, we
would no longer need to shout.’ He moved as quickly as he could through the sneeze-wracked horde.
The very sight of the tastefully inlaid silver moons and stars on his wizard’s robe seemed to send those
crouched nearby into redoubled nasal attacks. Finally he reached the end of the hallway in which we
stood, the flagstones here still relatively free of incapacitated sorcerers.
Ebenezum looked back over the trembling sea of wizard flesh. ‘It seems that we face new difficulties. It
appears that the machinations of the Netherhells were even more insidious than we first thought. By
dragging the city of Vushta down within their noxious domain, the demons have somehow subtly changed
it. I fear this change may affect everything within the city. We have already seen how it affects the use of
magic.’
‘This is all the doing of demons?’ Norei asked. ‘Then that means we haven’t defeated them as
thoroughly as we thought!’
‘Alas, no.’ My master scratched absently at the thick white hair beneath his wizard’s cap. ‘I fear that our
victory celebrations are premature. It appears that we have won but the first battle. Vushta and the
Netherhells are still at war.’
‘But this is terrible!’ I shuddered at the very thought of these underhanded Netherhells’ schemes. ‘What
can we do?’
‘The first thing is not to panic.’ He nodded at the still sneezing mass. ‘The enemy has, temporarily, taken
us by surprise. They have a slight advantage over us now, but it will not last for long. Already the wizards
around us are learning to control their disability.’
It was true. There were far fewer sneezes than there had been but a moment before. Perhaps my master
was right. There was cause for hope after all.
‘Indeed,’ my master continued, ‘we must now plan for the long run. As long as we can keep our heads
-‘
There was an explosion in the middle of the room.
‘Hi, guys!’ a tiny voice exclaimed. ‘I’m back!’
I knew who it was even before the smoke had cleared. Only one creature I knew had a voice as
squeakily high and relentlessly cheerful as that.
‘Talk about Brownie Power!’ the voice added.
There was no doubting it now. A small, brown figure jumped merrily up and down on a pile of sneezing
wizards. It had to be Tap the Brownie.
‘Boy, is it great to be back!’ Tap continued. ‘I had a hard time leaving you before, let me tell you. I
mean, who wants to go back to making shoes when you could visit Vushta, the city of a thousand
forbidden delights! But now I can do all the visiting I want. That is, once I deliver my message!’
Tap unfolded a piece of brown parchment which had been stuck in his belt. ‘This is an official
proclamation from his Brownieship,’ he began.
Tap paused to clear his throat, then spoke in a clear, high voice above the constant sneezing: ‘Three
hundred twenty pairs of laces; two thousand two hundred four buckles; four hundred twelve yards of -‘
His tiny voice died in his throat. ‘This appears to be an inventory list,’ he remarked as he rapidly
searched beneath the rest of his belt. ‘Oh, dear, I must have left the proclamation in my other suit. Well,
never mind. We’ll get it later. Let me just say that, from what our superior Brownie Intelligence has
gathered, you folks are in a lot of trouble. Yes, even more than before!’
Only now did he seem to notice the roomful of sneezing wizards. The Brownie whistled. ‘Looks like I
didn’t get here a moment too early! With what’s going to happen, you’re going to need all the Brownie
Power you can get!’
What did this all mean? I turned to my master, to ask him what to do. But the Brownie’s arrival had
been too much for his malady. Now Ebenezum, like all the dozens of other wizards in this great hallway,
was sneezing uncontrollably.
TWO
‘The sages say that “You cannot have too many friends,” and for a change, the sages are largely correct
in their sagacity. Anyone can see, for example, that the friendlier a crowd, the better a wizard’s chances
for survival after his spell has gone seriously awry.
‘However, there are some circumstances when even friends can become burdensome to the working
sorcerer. Wizards, after all, need their privacy, especially when involved in extremely complicated and
delicate conjurations of powerful magical forces, or when dealing in spells concerning the concealment of
large sums of money.
‘But friends do form a very important part of a wizard’s life, especially when said mage must go on a
fearsome quest far from his native land and thus needs someone at home to take care of his cat.’
THE TEACHINGS OF EBENEZUM, Volume XXVII
The door that led from the Great Hall outside crashed inwards then smashed against the floor, its hinges
ripped from the wall with the force of its opening.
‘Doom!’ the immense warrior Hendrek intoned. His bulk filled the large doorway, a huge shadow that
blotted out the late summer sun. He held the doomed warclub Headbasher in one immense hand, the club
no man could own, but could only rent. The winged helmet atop his head turned as he surveyed the
room.
‘Doom!’ Hendrek repeated. ‘Something is amiss!’
‘That’s what I like about you, big fellow,’ a higher, infinitely more grating voice replied. ‘You’re always
able to point out any problem, no matter how obvious it is to those around you.’ The truth-telling demon
Snarks poked his small, green head around the warrior’s belly. ‘What have we here? It looks like an
influenza convention.’
‘It’s terrible!’ I explained. ‘Ebenezum’s malady has spread to every other wizard in Vushta!’
‘Doom!’ the warrior responded with instant understanding.
‘ ‘Tis another foul plot by the Netherhells!’
Snarks whistled. ‘It looks like they’ve come up with a winner this time.’ The demon flinched as the
warrior growled above him. ‘Okay, okay, maybe it’s inappropriate to compliment the Netherhells at a
time like this.’ Snarks got a faraway look in his eye. ‘Still, one has to have some feelings about the place
one was born. I still remember it all: The smell of the slime pits, the gooey feel of fungus on the walls of
my nursery, the special way those swamp gases would get into your eyes.’ The demon sighed. ‘It gave
one a real sense of revulsion, let me tell you.’
Allowances had to be made for Snarks. His mother had been frightened by demon politicians shortly
before he was born, a misfortune that led to Snarks growing into a demon that could tell nothing but the
truth, especially the unpleasant truth, the more unpleasant the better. This truth-telling tendency had gotten
him banished from the Netherhells, but that same extreme honesty had made him a trustworthy
companion in our battles with his former home.
‘Doom,’ Hendrek said again as the sneezing continued unabated.
‘What have we been thinking of?’ Norei demanded. ‘We have to get these wizards out in the open,
away from this sorcery-tainted air!’
My beloved was right! I fought down a momentary pang of guilt for not thinking of rescuing the wizards
myself, after all the times I had had to come to the aid of my master. There was just something
overwhelming about being in the midst of two score sneezing wizards, something - perhaps the noise level
- that made it difficult to think at all. A chill ran through my frame. Could this be yet another facet of the
Netherhells’ plot?
‘Doom,’ Hendrek muttered as he began to drag bunches of wizards outside the hall. Norei and Snarks
turned to aid those few sorcerers still able to walk.
‘That’s not what I think it is,’ Snarks whispered, his voice tinged with fear.
‘Hi, there!’ The Brownie waved from where he had been wandering among the prostrate mages. ‘How
are those shoes I made for you holding out? Talk about Brownie Power!’
Snarks groaned, his normal, sickly green face turned a sickly gray. ‘No,’ he moaned softly. ‘What have
I done to deserve this? I am banished from the Netherhells. This I accept. I am forced to wander through
a strange world, and even battle my own kind whenever I should meet them. This, too, I accept. My
human companions don’t heed the helpful advice I give them that would so much improve their lives.
Even this I accept. But the Brownie, again?’ The demon drew a ragged breath, and fell to his knees. ‘Is
there no justice?’
‘Why the sad face, friend demon?’ Tap jumped merrily to Snarks’ side. ‘You have nothing to worry
about. Now that I’m back, I’ve decided to take the time to show you the Brownie Way.’
‘The Brownie -‘ Snarks began.
‘Oh, there is no need to thank me,’ Tap interjected before the demon could finish his sentence. ‘I know
it will take great patience, but making shoes teaches great patience. And if my efforts aren’t enough to
show you the light, fear not, there are a thousand of my fellows ready to take my place. You are in good
hands with Browniedom. Soon you will know that there is justice - Brownie Justice!’ The little man did
an impromptu jig on the corner of Snarks’ robe.
The demon stared back at the Brownie. Snarks opened his mouth repeatedly, and shut it as many times.
No sound issued forth.
‘Yes, it is all a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?’ Tap laughed infectiously. ‘Come, what better time than now to
begin our first lesson?’
The Brownie looked dreamily off into the middle distance. ‘Lesson One: The Selection of Shoe Leather.
All good things must begin somewhere. Shoes are no exception, and proper raw materials are essential. .
. .’
Snarks rose unsteadily and staggered from the room. Tap paused at last and looked around, realizing
that his audience had fled. ‘Oh, how right you are!’ he cried. ‘How much better to conduct our lessons
outside, in the warm summer air! I am coming, friend demon!’
Tap romped merrily from the room.
I stopped before a sneezing mass covered in royal blue.
‘Master?’
Ebenezum looked up and nodded. ‘Too much,’ he managed. ‘Outside -‘
I helped the mighty wizard out onto the lawn that fronted the building. The grass was already crowded
with prostrate mages. We had to walk some distance before we could find a place Ebenezum might sit
undisturbed. He slid onto the grass with a groan. At least, I reflected, it wasn’t a sneeze. In fact, the air
out here on the lawn was remarkably sneeze-free.
‘Thank you, ‘prentice,’ my master said after he had regained his breath. ‘ ‘Twas an unhealthy situation in
there. Too many magicians per square foot. The residual sorcery alone was enough to trigger the malady
in all of us. And then, with the arrival of the Brownie, not to mention Snarks, and Hendrek’s warclub . . .’
Ebenezum shook his head. ‘We will have to make plans’ - the wizard stroked his beard contemplatively
- ‘but never again in such a large group.’
I did not say aloud what I thought; that the Netherhells had won a considerable victory if they could
prevent the wizards of Vushta from ever using their collective magic against demonkind. The situation
looked grimmer with every passing moment.
‘Indeed,’ Ebenezum replied to my glum expression. ‘This proliferation of my malady is a serious
setback. But we have faced other trials before, and triumphed.’
Snarks walked rapidly past us, a haunted look in his eyes. Tap was right on his heels. ‘Now that we
know all about the leather,’ he called after the fleeing demon, ‘just what do we do with it? This brings us
to the second part of our lesson: Rudimentary Shoe Design!’
Ebenezum stroked his mustache as the Brownie also disappeared into the crowd of slowly recovering
wizards. ‘In fact,’ he added, ‘methinks I see the beginning of a plan.’ He turned to me, an edge of
excitement to his voice. ‘Wunt!
Gather all our compatriots together and tell them to meet us at yon willow tree an hour hence.’
I glanced at the tree my master had indicated, a huge weeping willow at the far end of the courtyard
from the Great Hall.
‘All our compatriots?’ I inquired.
The wizard nodded. ‘Every single one. Meanwhile, I need to confer with one or two of my fellow
wizards. By the time we meet, I will have put the final touches on our counterstrategy.’
I nodded and rushed away. We had made quite a few allies in our numerous adventures; I imagined
them scattered all over Vushta by now. I somehow had to find all our compatriots in under an hour.
I found Snarks busily conversing with Hendrek directly around the corner of the building. The Brownie
stood a few feet away, discoursing to no one in particular about the proper space one should put
between eyelets. Here were three of these whom I sought. Perhaps this wouldn’t be as difficult as I first
had thought.
‘Doom,’ Hendrek remarked.
‘Please!’ Snarks pleaded. ‘For the sake of all we’ve been through together! Only one tiny little blow
from your warclub, and we’ll never have to hear about eyelets again!’
‘Doom!’ Hendrek insisted. ‘The Brownie has done nothing wrong!’
‘Nothing wrong?’ The demon groaned. ‘The Brownie’s very existence is an affront to demonkind! Just
look at that little fellow, bopping up and down, talking about shoes as if they were the most important
thing in the world. How can something that - that cute be allowed to live!’
Tap was indeed jumping up and down at this very moment, waving his hands and shouting at the top of
his voice: ‘You put one here, and you put one there! Shoe eyelets, shoe eyelets, everywhere!’
I had to admit that Snarks was at least partially right. Even lecturing about shoe eyelet placement, Tap
the Brownie was adorable.
‘Give me an S!’ Tap continued. ‘Give me an H! Give me an O! Give me -‘
‘Doom.’ The large warrior shook his head. ‘I couldn’t do it. Violence is not always the answer, friend
demon. Have you tried reasoning with the little fellow?’ He turned to the Brownie, who was now leaping
about in circles.
‘What’s that spell?’ Tap cried. ‘Shoe! What’s that spell? Shoe! What’s that spell? Shoe!’
‘Doom,’ Hendrek repeated. Snarks began to shiver.
‘Hold, friends!’ I called to the three of them. I had seen enough. If I was to accomplish my master’s
wishes, I would have to speak to them quickly and be on my way. ‘Does there seem to be some
problem?’
‘No problem at all!’ the Brownie piped up. ‘We’re talking about Brownie Power!’
‘Whether we want to or not,’ Snarks added quickly. He tugged nervously at my sleeve. ‘You’ll talk to
him, won’t you? My mother didn’t raise me to be Brownie fodder.’
‘Brownie fodder?’ Tap replied. ‘Brownie fodder? Sir, I want you to know that, to my knowledge,
Brownies have never eaten demons for dinner. Or for lunch or breakfast either. Actually, we prefer to eat
tiny cakes, baked to resemble boots, and even smaller sandal-shaped sugar cookies. Of course, when
we are really hungry -‘
‘Doom,’ Hendrek interjected. ‘I believe the demon was speaking metaphorically.’
‘Really?’ Tap seemed taken aback. ‘You’ll have to excuse me. We in the shoe trade were never very
good at metaphors. Similes are more our style! You know, like: “As industrious as a Brownie” or “As
well made as a Brownie shoe.” Now those are comparisons that mean something!’
The Brownie hesitated, doubt creeping into his enthusiasm. ‘But metaphorical Brownie fodder? I had no
idea you felt that way about the lessons. Perhaps His Brownieship is right. I do have a tendency to be too
direct. Go for the gold, you know. That’s a saying we wee folk have. I apologize if I have shocked you,
friend demon.’
‘Shocked?’ Snarks replied, obviously startled by Tap’s abrupt about-face. ‘Someone who grew up in
the Netherhells cannot be shocked. Being stunned by an excess of Brownie prattle, however, is another
matter.’ The demon took a deep breath, warming to his subject. ‘And yet, you have apologized. Perhaps
there is some hope for you little people after all. I could give you some advice on proper deportment. I’m
sure if we worked on it long enough, we might find something for you to do that might even make a
Brownie’s life worthwhile!’
The Brownie nodded. ‘It’s obvious where I have gone wrong. I was too direct, too overwhelmed by
Brownie Power! I must take a much more subtle approach, working by this deluded demon’s side,
showing him the truth in little ways every day, even though it may take weeks or months -‘
‘Months?’ Snarks wailed, his rebuilt confidence evaporating at the very suggestion. ‘Months?’
Tap nodded again. ‘Perhaps even years. We Brownies have time. That’s the joy of Brownie Power!’
‘Joy?’ Snarks’ mouth began to work in a manner unnatural even for a demon. ‘I’ll give you joy!’
I restrained the demon’s lunge with my stout oak staff and turned to Tap.
‘Pardon me, but didn’t you have a message to deliver?’ I inquired.
摘要：

ADifficultyWithDwarvesVersetheFirstinTheBalladofWuntvorCraigShawGardnerCONTENTSONE.3TWO..8THREE.15FOUR..24FIVE.34SIX..41SEVEN..46EIGHT.55NINE.61TEN..68ELEVEN..75TWELVE.81THIRTEEN..86FOURTEEN..91FIFTEEN..96SIXTEEN..101SEVENTEEN..106EIGHTEEN..111NINETEEN..116TWENTY..124 ONE‘Evenwizardssometimeshavebad...

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