Pure Dead Magic

Chapter 7 The Wager "Titus, I'm in deep poo." Pandora collapsed on her brother's bed with a small wail. Titus didn' t respond, unless a grunt counted as an expression of brotherly concern. "Listen up, Titus, I need your help." "I'm busy," came the reply. Pandora unfolded herself from the bed and came to stand by her brother. Titus muttered and tapped on a keyboard, seemingly oblivious to the presence of his sister. "I can't tell where that stupid computer ends and you begin. Titus, if you don't stop and listen to me, I'm going to see if it likes Coke as much as you do." Titus unglued his eyeballs from the screen and looked up. Pandora was unscrewing the cap from a vast bottle of brown fizz. He sighed. "Ah! Eyeball contact," gloated Pandora. "Is there intelligent life on Planet Titus? Yes, there appears to be large amoebathing with an open hole in the middle of its head, but we are experiencing some difficulty in establishing communication." Titus sighed again. "What is it?" he said. "I've lost Multitudina." "Big deal," said Titus, "plenty more rats where she came from." Pandora glared at her brother. "And all her babies, Titus-all thirteen of them." "They'll turn up," said Titus philosophically. "Floating in the soup, down the toilet, hot-wired to the back of the fridge . . ." "Titus. I shut them in here. Before breakfast. And when I came back upstairs with their bacon rinds, they were gone." "What did you do with the bacon rinds?" asked Titus irrelevantly. "Damp probably ate them. But that's not the point, the point is-" "The point is, " said Titus, -that this is my bedroom, and you introduced fourteen free-range rats several bits of dead pig, and one incontinent baby into my space. Without my permission. That's the point." "Your Highness. Accept my humble apologies. Entering your Royal Bedchamber without permission is a crime punishable by death, but, sire, I can account for said bits of bacon and smelly baby-one is inside the other, and both are in the nursery-but where are Multitudina and her tribe?" "You're toast, Pandora," said Titus. "Mum'll be back tonight and when she finds out "Titus. . . " groaned Pandora. "Please. "I don't like rats, remember? Frankly, I'm delighted that your disgusting rodent's done a runner." "She's not disgusting." "She's a foul-mouthed, yellow-fanged, smelly bit of vermin that's probably into cannibalism." "She did not eat her babies, Titus. You've got to help me find them." "If you're so brilliant, you find them." "Bet I can," said Pandora. "Bet you can't." "How much?" "A game of Monopoly?" said Titus with faint hope. "NEVER," yelled Pandora. "Frankly, I'd rather swim a lap across the moat than play with you." " Big words, big deal, Pandora. You're all talk and no action. Inside you're just a fluff-brained girl. You'd never dare." Livid with rage, Pandora forgot to engage her brain before opening her mouth. "I bet I CAN find them," she shrieked. "AND I WOULD, TOO, DARE! AND I'M NOT JUST TALKING!" "No," agreed Titus, "you're shouting. And your eyes have gone all funny." "I'm not SHOUTING," Pandora insisted. "I'll find the rat babies or I'll swim the moat. Done. Satisfied?" "You're kidding," gasped Titus. "You can hardly swim, let alone fight off crocodiles." "You're the one who needs water wings and an inner tube, TGliori, Debi is the author of 'Pure Dead Magic' with ISBN 9780375814105 and ISBN 0375814108.