"How are we going to stop Thom returning with Roger and Delia?" asked Jon. (Faithful's spell to stop them being drunk had not worked very well. By this point Jon was feeling rather woozy and light headed. But then feeling light headed was not an uncommon feeling for Jon for reasons that we have already gone in to).

We are going to find out where he has gone and send him back to the realms of the dead, Faithful replied.

"I don't remember Faithful being this bossy." Jon muttered mutinously, kicking the floor in a childish way. He stubbed his toe and squealed.

"Oooh! My poor little tootsie!" he wailed. "Alanna! As king Jonathan the 2nd- or is it the 3rd?- I demand you to use you healing gift to heal my poor little tootsie!"

Alanna raised her eyebrows to heaven and healed Jon's 'tootsie'.

"As I said," Jon continued in a voice of bravado (an admittedly bad attempt to make up for his momentary lapse of dignity), "I don't remember Faithful being this bossy."

I don't remember you being this stupid, the cat replied.

"That's not fair!" wailed Jon. "I'm the king!"

I'm a god, reminded the cat.

"I HATE YOU!" bawled Jon.

"Stop it, boys!" said Alanna sharply.

"He started it." said Jon sulkily.

Faithful purred in a satisfied sort of way, mentally tooting up this exchange in his mind as a point scored of the king.

Now, let's follow Thom!

Raoul had finally got the message that Buri didn't like him. He had literally got the message in fact. He had followed her up to her room, saying "Come, come, my sugared little hopscotch, you're just fearfully confused." when Buri had slammed her door in his face yelling, "OUR RELATIONSHIP IS SHUT LIKE THIS DOOR!"

Raoul had called "Sweetcorn! That wasn't very ladylike!" but her reply was merely some K'miri swearing. After he had tutted reprovingly and said, "Gooseberry, it is not nice to treat your destined love in this manner" and there was no reply, he left. Raoul was now prepared to embark on some more drastic measures. And he knew just the woman who could help him…

"Hello, my dearest adopted aunt!" he smiled as he entered the back of the Dancing Dove with no regard for the pickpockets lurking around, who skilfully swiped the contents of his pockets. (The pickpockets were not impressed when later they looked at their spoils and discovered several very bad line drawings of Buri that would have disgraced even the most dismally untalented six year old).

Eleni shot him a suspicious look.

"What, child?" she hissed.

Raoul smiled in what he hoped was an engaging way. It actually had the net affect of making him look like he was growling in a doglike manner.

"I wasn't a potion!" he smiled.

Eleni frowned. "What kind of potion, little boy? Something to cure toothache?"

"Weeeelll…" said Raoul, considering, "I did get toothache once after I ate a box of Copper Isle slinky dinky added sugar strawberry chews. Though that was only because the box was meant for twenty people not one, I didn't know that at the time…. But, no, glorious older woman who enchants me, I want a different potion…"

"Cough mixture?" Eleni guessed.

"Auntie Elly! However did you know that sometimes I get a teeny little sore throat after I've been singing in the Squires choir!" cried Raoul in delight. "But, no, I want a different potion…"

"Sleeping pills?" inquired Elenei.

"As a matter of fact, I do often find it hard to drop off, especially when after I've been boating. I often think…"

"Eye drops?"

"Sometimes I do feel strained around the eyes, magnificent auntie El, often during meditation, but-"

Eleni gave up, took a sledge hammer out from where it was cunningly hidden in the fruit bowl disguised as an oversized bannana and whacked Raoul over the head.

"Bah. Love potion. That's what his kind always want." She muttered.

Duke Gareth wandered in to Duke Baird's healing room.

"Hello Bardy!" he said jovially.

"What is it?" the Duke hissed.

"Can you give me some medicine?" Gareth beamed.

"Cccccertainly!" smiled Duke Baird and gave Duke Garth a bottle with a large skull and cross bones on the side.

"What does this do? I seem to remember having seen this somewhere before." exclaimed Duke Gareth happily.

"It willll cure your couggggh." Was the reply.

"Excellent!" cried Duke Gareth and took a hefty swig from the bottle. Then he abruptly fell over, murmuring, "Jolly strong taste!"

"BWAHAHAAHHAAAHHHHAA!" Duke Baird laughed for ten minutes flat. Then he disposed of Duke Gareth and whipped out a black cloak from behind a portrait of Weiryn and Sarra. He placed it on, struck a dashing pose in the mirror and hissed, "I am… the excellent…. The irresistible… the dashingly handsome…. DUKE BAIRD SERIAL KILLER! BWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWHHHAHA!"

Alanna, Jon and Faithful arrived at Delia's prison. It was empty.

"We were too slow!" cursed Alanna and swore colourfully.

This was your fault, Faithful said to Jon.

"IT WASN'T, YOU MUTT!" bawled Jon.

'Mutt' is a term for a dog, Faithful corrected him.

"I DON'T CARE!" shouted Jon.

Well, you should do. The cat said tartly.

"Stop it boys!" Alanna ordered, feeling irritated.

Jon made up his mind to hire an assassin to kill the cat as soon as was decently unobvious.

Raoul woke up.

"Happy Easter, wonderful auntie!" he gabbled, catching sight of Eleni.

"I believe you mean 'Good Evening'." She corrected. "Now, here is your love potion."

"It's blue!" complained Raoul. "Shouldn't a love potion be pink?!"

Eleni pushed him out of the door.

On the way out of the Dancing Dove, Raoul looked in to the bar room. Inside he saw a woman dressed up as a chicken jumping over tables and a man wearing a luridly coloured pair of trousers singing whilst plucking the strings of a banjo shaped like a tree.

"Hello Thayet, hello George." He smiled. (Raoul, unlike a normal person, did not seem to find his friends' strange attire at all strange.)

"'Ere laddy!" grinned George, and promptly fell over, still plucking the banjo. Thayet continued jumping over tables.

"I think they might be drunk." Said Raoul intelligently, and went on his way. Just as he was moving out, a wild figure burst in.

"CARNATIONS!" It screamed. "THEY'RE CARNATIONS!"

"Excuse me?" asked Raoul. This wild haired man in the nightshirt looked exceedingly peculiar but his mummy had always told him to be polite to everyone.

"SHE SAID THEY WERE ROSES!" gasped Numair.

"They're carnations if you say so." Smiled Raoul. "Good day!"

Jon slunk away in what he thought was a discreet manner whilst Alanna had stopped to tie up her shoelace. Alanna was perfectly aware that he was gone but couldn't be bothered to call after him.

"I want that irksome moggie dead!" he muttered darkly, "Things can never be good between me and Alanna if the cat exists still. Why, if we ever marry he'll want our children to be named after him!"

Jon had a sudden alarming vision of lines of children with copper hair, sapphire blue hair, black tails, all going by the name of Faithful. He imagined the cat stealing them from their cradles in supernatural storms and teaching them its annoying habits.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" he screamed.

"You alright, sir?" asked a guard who stood nearby.

Jon realised he'd been dancing in frustration and wailing his head off.

"Shut up." He told the guard in a dignified voice ad walked away in a stately fashion.

"Now, I need an assassin who will kill the cat!" he murmured.

"Yousssss needsssss assssasssssin?" hissed a sudden voice from behind him.

"Oh, hello Duke Baird!" exclaimed Jon. "I do like your black cloak!"

"Itsssss very fassssshionable right now." Was the reply.

Jon took a mental note of this. He liked to keep up with fashion. If black cloaks were in the so be it. Last weak it had been frog skin socks….

"I want Faithful dead. He's ruining my relationship with Alanna!" he told the healer.

"You don't need an asssssssasssssssssin…. If you wantssssss the kitty cat dead… then you should try DIY." Explained Duke Baird.

"Isn't that something to do with furniture?" inquired Jon.

"I mean DIY murder, little king, not furrrrrrrnituressssssss…."

"Oooh, I don't know about that, Bardy." Said Jon, "I'd rather have an assassin. If I kill the cat myself, I might get caught."

"Maysssss I jusssst point out that there issss no law against killing catsssss." Duke Baird hissed.

Jon's face wore a simple smile.

"I forgot! Now, how should I go about disposing of the mutt?"

"Mutt is word for dogssss."

"Well, moggie then." Said Jon, feeling irritated. Maybe he should have paid more attention to his English lessons.

"I havess idea…" Duke Baird said, and related it to Jon….

Raoul smiled engagingly at the castle cook, an enormously fat woman with a face like a gorilla and arms of an alarming length.

"My dear food enhancer, I have a request." He stated.

"What?" she growled.

Raoul decided some flattery would be a good start.

"I have always liked you, my dove. Each tantalising morsel cooked by your splendid if a trifle large hand leaves me gasping for more. Each time I see you celestially fat frame gliding down corridors I am enchanted---- AAAAAHHH!"

"You be quiet, you impudent laddy!" roared the cook, weilding a deadly blow with a saucepan.

"Dear duck! I meant not to insult you!" cried Raoul. "Despite you unfortunate shape, I still devoutly adore your…er… vigorous and attractive personality!"

"You clear out me' kitchen you cheeky lil' puppy!" bellowed the cook, throwing a pan at him with startling accuracy.

"I only wanted you to insert this lovely little love potion in to Buri's soup, lamp of solitude!" he cried as he fled.

"Belt up!" was the shouted reply.

"She is a lumbustrious crocodile." Decided Raoul with certainty. "I shall find a better way of giving the potion to my beloved."

"Drat Jon!" said Alanna. "We were going to find Thom and Delia and then he clears off!"

It's better this way, Faithful told her.

Ahead of them Jon hid concealed in an ornate suit of armour which stood to the left of the hall they were walking down. Duke Baird hid a little way off, his evil eyes gleaming. Jon had cunningly placed a tripwire across the hall. The plan was that Faithful would trip over it and fall down a trapdoor just in front of it that was rigged to open just before he tripped. This, Jon felt, was a plan that could not fail.

Faithful and Alanna walked along, nearer and nearer to the trip wire…. Jon smirked in glee, murmuring softly, "My plan is working!"

Nearby, Duke Baird cacked and gloated, "My plan is working too!"

"Pardon?" Jon asked him, feeling dimly aware that he had heard this one before.

"Pardonssss?" Baird hissed, annoyed that his line had been purloined.

"Nothing!" they both said quickly- and rather too loudly.

"Jon!" Alanna exclaimed, having heard this exchange.

"Blassssssstttttt!" growled Duke Baird.

"Fiddlesticks!" wailed Jon. "I shouldn't have spoken!"

Why are you hiding in that armour? Demanded Faithful.

"Fun." Replied Jon lamely.

You have a queer idea of fun then. The cat giggled.

"Come on, Jon, I'll help you get out of that armour then we can save Tortall." Said Alanna and strode confidently towards Jon- and the tripwire.

"NO! ALANNA, DON'T DO IT!" screamed Jon in horror.

"What, save Tortall?" she demanded.

"NO! NOT THAT!" cried Jon in desperation.

"Don't worry, it's just the alcohol." Alanna soothed, and moved forwards. Her foot connected with the tripwire and she fell with a shriek. The trapdoor shot open and Alanna plunged in. It shut with a bang.

"Darn it!" groaned Jon. "My plan didn't work!"

"MY plan didn't worksssss eeeeither!" complained Duke Baird.

"Pardon?"

Nothing!"

My plan, however, is working perfectly. Said Faithful smugly.

Raoul had decided that directness was the best route to success.

"Apple tree that blows in the wind, please drink this potion." He said.

Buri looked at the bottle suspiciously.

"Why?"

"I brought it specially for you, aubergine." he replied.

"URRGGHH! In that case, I'm off!" said Buri and left.

"My kiwi is remarkably smart!" observed Raoul. "But it matters not. Tonight it is the anniversary of the king and queen's coronation. Tonight, I shall slip it in to her food…."

Here ends part 2 of Partners in Crime.

Will Raoul succeed in giving the love potion to his cabbage cabbage?

Will Jon suceed in killing 'the mutt'?

Will Alanna get out of the hole?

Will Duke Baird: Serial Killer's as yet unknown (but undoubtedly profoundly evil plan) succeed?

All will be revealed in Part Three.

Stay tuned, and hope you enjoyed Instalment no 2!