“And you waited until now to deal with this?” Leonidia Moyrvane’s expression was one of combined bafflement and exasperation as she regarded the Shire Council’s general manager. “I mean, my father did a quick and dirty fix for you the last time the dimensional wall was cracking and he died before I was born. That’s over twenty-five years…”
The man looked uncomfortable. “Well, truth be told, your father’s fix worked and, in a country Shire like ours, there’s always the ongoing costs of infrastructure, like roads, using up the rate payers’ funds. Besides, when your father died, there were people, mages, who made it their business to go around undoing everything they could that he’d done.” He shook his head. “We really didn’t want to draw their attention to our problem.”
“I can see that,” Leonidia conceded.
“And we have arranged for someone to deal with the matter, it’s just we’ve booked him for next month and now it really doesn’t look like we can wait that long.”
“He can’t come sooner?”
“Master Guidersson and his team are currently on the other side of the continent and in the middle of something else.” The general manager smiled apologetically and added, “When we asked around for someone who could help urgently, your name came up.”
“I’m flattered to be considered for a problem Aldo Guidersson is going to handle, I think,” replied Leonidia. “Just as long as you understand that I don’t have anything like his experience.”
“Yes,” the man opposite her nodded, “but we’re desperate.” He swallowed. “What are your rates?”
“Well, firstly,” Leonidia started counting off on her fingers, “you pay all ritual costs up front.”
“Secondly, I get to keep copies of the notes my father left you.” Leonidia paused and looked expectant.
“Good, that’s settled. Now, I’ll need three hundred chorus dancers and a drummer.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get them back,” Leonidia assured him with a smile, “and I can probably get the drummer.”