Read Year of the Griffin Online

Authors: Diana Wynne Jones

Year of the Griffin

DEDICATION

F
OR
S
USAN
H
IRSCHMAN

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Excerpt from
Howl's Moving Castle

Chapter One: In which Sophie talks to hats

Excerpt from
The Merlin Conspiracy

Chapter One

Excerpt from
Dark Lord of Derkholm

Chapter One

Excerpt from
Archer's Goon

Chapter One

About the Author

Credits

Copyright

About the Publisher

ONE

N
OTHING WAS GOING
right with the Wizards' University. When High Chancellor Querida decided that she could not change the world and run the University as well, she took herself and her three cats off to a cottage beside the Waste, leaving the older wizards in charge. The older wizards seized the opportunity to retire. Now, eight years after the tours ended, the University was run by a committee of rather younger wizards, and it was steadily losing money.

For forty years before that, the University had been forced to provide for Mr. Chesney's offworld Pilgrim Parties. Wizards had also been made to provide magical events for the tours. Tourists from the next universe had come in droves every year, expecting to have adventures with elves, dwarfs, dragons, and the powers of darkness, and most years this left the world laid waste. The wizards then had to put it straight for the next year. Mr. Chesney, whose orders were backed by a powerful demon, had been very strict in his requirements, and he had paid for this service in gold. When almost everyone in the world united to put a stop to the Pilgrim Parties, the payments naturally stopped, so it was small wonder that the University was short of funds.

“We need to make the place
pay
somehow,” the Chairman, Wizard Corkoran, said anxiously at the beginning-of-term meeting. “We've raised the student fees again—”

“And got fewer students than ever,” Wizard Finn pointed out, although to hear the shouts and the bang and scrape of luggage from the courtyard outside, you would have thought most of the world was currently arriving there.

“Fewer, yes,” Corkoran said, looking at the list by his elbow, “but the ones we
have
got must all come from very rich families, or they couldn't afford the fees. It stands to reason. I propose we ask these families for money; we could put up a plaque with their names on. People like that.”

Wizard Finn shot a look at the lovely Wizard Myrna, who turned down the corners of her shapely mouth. The rest of the committee simply stared at Corkoran with different sorts of blankness. Corkoran was always having ideas, and none of them worked. The students thought Corkoran was wonderful. Many of them imitated his style of wearing an offworld necktie over an offworld T-shirt—both with pictures on—and did their hair like Corkoran in a wavy blond puff brushed back from the forehead. Quite a few of the girl students were in love with him. But then they were only
taught
by him, Finn thought gloomily. They didn't have to wrestle with his ideas of how to run a university.

“We can't afford a plaque,” said Wizard Dench, the Bursar. “Even with all the fees paid, we can only just afford to pay the staff and buy food. We can't afford to mend the roofs.”

Wizard Corkoran was used to Dench saying they couldn't afford things. He waved this away. “Then I'll float a commemorating spell,” he said. “We can have it circling the Spellman Building or the Observatory tower—transparently, of course, so it won't get in the way.” When nobody said anything to this, he added, “I can maintain it in my spare time.”

Nobody said anything to this either. They all knew Corkoran never had any spare time. All the time he could spare from teaching—and much that he couldn't spare, too—went to his research on how to get to the moon. The moon was his passion. He wanted to be the first man to walk on it.

“That's settled then,” said Corkoran. “Money's bound to pour in. If you just take my first-year tutorial group, you can see the possibilities. Look.” He ran a finger down the list beside him. “There's King Luther's eldest son—he's Crown Prince of Luteria, and he'll own all sorts of land—Prince Lukin. And the next one's the sister of Emperor Titus. At least I believe she's his half sister, but I'm sure we can prevail on the Empire to make a large donation. Then there's a dwarf. We've never had a dwarf before, but they all come from fastnesses stuffed with treasure. And there's this girl Elda. She's the daughter of Wizard Derk, who—”

“Er—” began Finn, who knew Elda quite well.

“Wizard Derk is a wealthy and important man,” Corkoran continued. “Did you say something, Finn?”

“Only that Derk doesn't approve of the University,” Finn said. It was not what he had been going to say.

“Obviously he changed his mind when he found his daughter had talent,” Corkoran said, “or he wouldn't be paying for her to come here. All right. That's agreed then. Myrna, you're married to a bard. You know how to use Powers of Persuasion. You're in charge of sending a letter to the parents of all students who—”

“I, er, have another idea,” Wizard Umberto put in from the end of the conference table. Everyone turned to him hopefully. Umberto was quite young, rather fat, and almost never said anything. The general belief was that Umberto was a brilliant astrologer, except that he never said anything about his work. He went pink, seeing them all looking at him, and stammered, “Oh. Er. I think we should, well, you know, be able to set up a scheme to let people pay for magical information. You know, come from miles away to be told secrets.”

“Oh, don't be silly, Umberto,” said Wizard Wermacht. Wermacht was the youngest wizard there, and very proud of the fact. “You're describing just what we do, anyway.”

“But only for students, Wermacht,” Umberto stammered shyly. “I thought we could, er, sell everyone horoscopes and so forth.”

“But then they wouldn't be secrets!” Wermacht said scornfully. “Your usual muddled thinking. I suggest—”

“Umberto and Wermacht,” Corkoran said, “you are interrupting the Chair.”

At this Umberto went pinker still, and Wermacht said, “I'm
so
sorry, Corkoran. Please do go on.”

“I'd nearly finished,” Corkoran said. “Myrna is going to send out a letter to the parents of all students, asking for the largest possible donation and telling them their names will go up in a spell with the ones who give most in big letters at the top. We're bound to get a good response. That's it. Now forgive me if I rush away. My latest moon studies are very delicate and need watching all the time.” He gathered up his lists and stormed out of the Council Hall, with his tie flapping over his shoulder.

“I hate these meetings,” Finn said to Myrna as they walked out into the stone foyer together, where the shouts and rumbles from the arriving students echoed louder than ever.

“So do I,” Myrna said dourly. “Why do I always end up doing the work for Corkoran?”

Finn found Myrna the most ravishing woman he knew. She had brains and beauty. He was always hoping she might be persuaded to give up her bardic husband and turn to him instead. “It's too bad,” he said. “Umberto just sits there like Humpty-Dumpty, and Wermacht throws his weight about and then crawls to Corkoran. Dench is useless. It's no wonder Corkoran's relying on you.”

“Of course he does,” said Myrna. “His head's in the moon. And I didn't notice
you
offering to do anything.”

“Well,” said Finn. “My schedule—”

“As if I hadn't enough to do!” Myrna went on. “I've seen to all the students' rooms, and the college staff, and the kitchens, and the bedding, and there's probably going to be an outcry when someone realizes that I had to give Derk's daughter the concert hall to sleep in. She's too big for anywhere else. How is it, anyway, that Corkoran's teaching her? Why does he always grab the most interesting students?”

“That's just what I was going to say!” Finn cried out, seeing his chance to be truly sympathetic to Myrna. “I've met most of those students. I knew them as kids when I was Wizard Guide on the tours, and I tell you it's going to serve Corkoran right for hogging the ones he thinks are best, or richest, or whatever he thinks they are.”

“They probably
are
best,” Myrna said, barely listening. “I did the admissions, too. The University secretaries nearly went mad over that, and they'll go mad again now they have to get this letter out. And on top of it all, I've just discovered I'm pregnant!”

“Oh,” said Finn. There, he thought, went his hopes of Myrna's leaving her bard. All he could think of was to say lamely, “Well, anyway, Corkoran's in for a shock when he sees one of his new students.”

Finn was right. Next morning Corkoran hurried into the tall stone tutorial chamber and only just managed not to stand stock-still, gaping. He bit his teeth together. He knew better than anyone that his fine, fair good looks caused most students to hang adoringly on his words. He thought of his face as his best teaching aid and was well aware that letting his jaw hang spoiled the effect. So he plastered a smile across it. But he still stood rooted to the spot.

Blazing out of the decidedly motley set of young people in the room—like a sunburst, Corkoran thought dazedly—was a huge golden griffin. He was not sure he was safe. Not exactly a
huge
griffin, he told himself hastily. He had heard that some griffins were about twice the size of an elephant. This one was only as large as an extra-big plow horse. But she—he could somehow tell it was a
she
; there was an enormous, emphatic
she
ness to this griffin—she was so brightly golden in fur and crest and feathers, so sharply curved of beak, and so fiercely alert in her round orange eyes that at first sight she seemed to fill the room. He noticed a dwarf somewhere down by her great front talons—and noticed with irritation that the fellow was in full war gear—but that was all. He very nearly turned and ran away.

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