Charmed Life - Diana Wynne Jones [65]
“You have three,” said Chrestomanci. “Get that into your head. You did have nine. In some manner and by someone, they were put into that book of matches, and that book I am now going to put in my secret safe, sealed with the strong-est enchantments I know. But that will only stop people using them. It won’t stop you losing them yourself.”
Janet came hurrying in, still tearful, but very thankful to be of use. “It’s coming,” she said.
“Thank you,” said Chrestomanci, and he gave her a long, thoughtful look. Janet was sure he was going to accuse her of not being Gwendolen, but what he said was, “You may as well hear this too, in order to prevent more accidents.”
“Can I get you a towel first?” Janet said humbly. “You’re so wet.”
“I’m drying out, thank you,” he said, smiling at her. “Now listen. People with nine lives are very important and very rare. They only happen when, for one reason or another, there are no counterparts of them living in any other world. Then the lives that would have been spread out over a whole set of worlds get concentrated in one person. And so do all the talents that those other eight people might have had.”
Cat said, “But I haven’t any talents,” and Janet said at the same time, “How rare are these people?”
“Extremely rare,” said Chrestomanci. “Apart from Cat, the only other person with nine lives that I know of on this world is myself.”
“Really?” Cat was pleased and interested. “Nine?”
“I did have nine. I’ve only got two now. I was even more careless than Cat,” Chrestomanci said. He sounded a little ashamed. “Now I have to take care to keep each life separately in the safest place I can think of. I advise Cat to do the same.”
Janet’s ready brain promptly got to work on this. “Is one life here and the other downstairs having supper at this moment?”
Chrestomanci laughed. “It doesn’t work like that. I—”
To Janet’s disappointment, Euphemia hurried in with a tray and prevented Chrestomanci explaining how it did work. Mr. Saunders came in on Euphemia’s heels, still unable to find evening clothes that covered his wrists and ankles.
“Is he all right?” Euphemia asked anxiously. “My Will was uttering threats, but if it was him I’ll never speak to him again. And whatever happened to this carpet?”
Mr. Saunders was looking at the wrinkled and heaped-up carpet too. “What did it?” he said. “There were surely enough charms in this carpet to stop any kind of accident.”
“I know,” said Chrestomanci. “But this was amazingly strong.” The two of them looked at one another significantly.
Then everyone fussed over Cat. He had a most enjoyable time. Mr. Saunders sat him up on pillows, and Euphemia put him in a nightshirt and then stroked Cat’s head, just as if he had never confessed to turning her into a frog. “It wasn’t Will,” Cat said to her. “It was me.” Chrestomanci gave him a fierce swig of brandy and then made him drink a cup of sweet tea. Janet had a cup of tea too, and felt much better for it. Mr. Saunders helped Euphemia straighten the carpet, and then asked if he should strengthen the charms in it.
“Dragons’ blood might do the trick,” he suggested.
“Frankly, I don’t think anything will,” said Chrestomanci. “Leave it.” He got up and turned the mirror straight. “Do you mind sleeping tonight in Cat’s room?” he asked Janet. “I want to be able to keep an eye on Cat.”
Janet looked from the mirror to Chrestomanci, and her face became very pink. “Er,” she said. “I’ve been making faces—”
Chrestomanci laughed. Mr. Saunders was so amused that he had to sit on the blue velvet stool. “I suppose it serves me right,” said Chrestomanci. “Some of the faces were highly original.”
Janet laughed too, a little foolishly.
Cat lay, feeling comfortable and almost cheerful. For a while, everyone was there, settling him in. Then there seemed only to be Janet, talking as usual.
“I’m so glad you’re all right,” she said. “Why did I open my big mouth about those matches? I had the dreaded umjams when you suddenly flared up, and when the carpet didn’t work, the only thing I could think of