An excerpt from the third in the bestselling
Harry Politicker
series by J.K. Goreng.
Harry gazed at the wizened form of Chiya Typo, half hidden in the shadows.
Evidently, he had managed the impossible: escape from the dread prison
isle of Sentosa.
"How did you do
it?" asked Harry in a querulous voice. "Sentosa is guarded by
a fiery-eyed merlion! And how did you manage to get past the savage
marine inhabitants?"
"That's not important,
Harry. I'm here to pass you an important message..." Typo said, his voice a
hoarse whisper. "I've been unjustly imprisoned! Whatever they've told you... it's not true!"
Harry backed away, his hands trembling.
Ominously, the
birthmark on his
forehead, in the shape of a lightning bolt enclosed by a circle, also began tingling
wildly.
The young political wizard lifted his wand and pointed it at Typo. He
could utter the magic words, "Blumos!" and bury the fugitive under a shower of
baggy women's underpants, but for some reason he found himself holding back.
"Did you really think that someone as small as me,"
Typo wheezed, the
strain of the many years of imprisonment
showing, "could pose such a huge
threat?"
Harry winced. Typo was a small man, but something in his gut told him
that physical size was no measure of a person's threat.
"I was shackled for my beliefs, Harry! Opinions! It's
wrong to imprison people for not thinking like you!" Typo's voice
became more pleading. "You're a wizard of rare ability, Harry.
Please... take the right path!"
Suddenly, there was a violent clap of thunder and
a burst of smoke, which caused both Harry and Typo to whirl round. Framed
in the doorway was a tall, skeletal figure, at first obscured by a plume of
green mist, but whose identity was soon revealed.
"No!" trembled Typo. "It's
You-Know-Who!"
"Lord Votekannot!" exclaimed Harry.
"Very astute, young wizard," hissed the
dark lord, his reptilian eyes gleaming. "I see the fugitive has been trying
to persuade you to subscribe to the pernicious teachings of that heretic, Demok
Rassy."
Demok Rassy, thought Harry. He had heard Marshull
Davidore, the principal of
Hogwash, the school for young political wizards that Harry attended,
mention that name during class. Rassy was a powerful wizard, who taught a form of
magic that empowered individuals, but was difficult to control, and sometimes
led to chaos. Still, Davidore thought it was worth it for
everyone to learn.
"Do not stray down that path, young
Harry," said Votekannot as he strode over in the direction of the quivering
form of Typo. "While it will endear you to people, it also erodes your
power. And in the business of wizardry, power is all! It's amazing that that
naive old fool Davidore still espouses it!"
In a blur, Votekannot
reached out and grasped Typo's throat in his taloned fingers. "As
for you, I'm beginning to think your time in prison was nothing more
than a stint on an island resort!"
"Harry," choked
Typo as he resisted the dark wizard's slow, crushing grip.
"Don't... give... in...!"
Votekannot merely smiled
at this last, desperate outburst, before speaking. "Well, it looks
like we need more drastic measures to rehabilitate you, Typo... perhaps
a session with the great sorceress Mareva? Or... I know! Even better! A
couple of hours with the Conditioners!"
Harry gasped. The
Conditioners were the elite, and terrifying, arm of Votekannot's
forces. An encounter with these silent warriors was
likened to being stripped naked and placed in a freezing room. Harry
glanced quickly out the window and saw the Conditioners massing in the
grounds below. He suppressed a shiver just thinking about them.
"Now pay attention,
Harry," said Votekannot. "You may find this exercise rather
useful to you in the future. After all, you do want to become the top
wizard in the land, do you not?"
Harry gulped. He did not
know why, but there was something hypnotic in Votekannot's voice...
somehow, it made so much sense...
J.K. Goreng's other
books in the bestselling Harry Politicker series are also available from
Sospastic Press:
