Making Money

had meaningfully surrounded her with tall brass ashtrays, full of white sand.
    Moist shifted a couple of them, and let her out.
    “How was—” he began, but she interrupted.
    “We can talk on the way.”
    “Where are we going?” Moist asked hopefully.
    “Unseen University,” said Adora Belle, heading for the door. She had a large woven bag on her shoulder. It was apparently stuffed with straw.
    “Not lunch then?” said Moist.
    “Lunch can wait. This is important.”
    “Oh.”

    IT WAS LUNCHTIME at Unseen University, where every meal is important. It was hard to find a time when some meal or other was not in progress there. The library was unusually empty, and Adora Belle walked up to the nearest wizard who did not seem gainfully employed and demanded: “I want to see the Cabinet of Curiosity right away!”
    “I don’t think we have anything like that,” said the wizard. “Who’s it by?”
    “Please don’t lie. My name is Adora Belle Dearheart, so as you can imagine I’ve got a pretty short temper. My father brought me with him when you people asked him to come and look at the Cabinet, about twenty years ago. You wanted to find out how the doors worked. Someone must remember. It was in a big room. A very big room. And it had lots and lots of drawers. And the funny thing about them was—”
    The wizard raised his hands quickly, as if to ward off further words. “Can you wait just one minute?” he suggested.
    They waited for five. Occasionally, a pointy-hatted head peered around a bookshelf to look at them, and ducked away if it thought it’d been spotted.
    Adora Belle lit a fresh cigarette. Moist pointed to a sign which said IF YOU ARE SMOKING, THANK YOU FOR BEING BEATEN ABOUT THE HEAD.
    “That’s just for show,” said Adora Belle, expelling a stream of blue smoke. “All wizards smoke like chimneys.”
    “Not in here, I notice,” said Moist, “and possibly this is because of all the highly inflammable books? It might be a good idea to—”
    He felt the swish of the air and got a whiff of rain forest as something heavy swung overhead and disappeared upward into the gloom, now trailing a stream of blue smoke.
    “Hey, someone took my—” Adora Belle began, but Moist pushed her out of the way as the thing swung back again and a banana knocked his hat off.
    “They are a bit more definite about things here,” he said, picking up his hat. “If it’s any comfort, the Librarian probably intended to hit me. He can be quite gallant.”
    “Ah, you’re Mr. Lipwig, I recognize the suit!” said an elderly wizard, who clearly hoped he was appearing as if by magic but, in fact, had appeared as if by stepping out from behind a bookcase. “I know I am the Chair of Indefinite Studies here, for my sins. And you, ahaha, by a process of elimination, will be Miss Dearheart, who remembers the Cabinet of Curiosity?” The Chair of Indefinite Studies stepped closer and looked conspiratorial. He lowered his voice. “I wonder if I can persuade you to forget about it?”
    “Not a chance,” said Adora Belle.
    “We like to think of it as one of our better-kept secrets, you see…”
    “Good. I’ll help you keep it,” said Adora Belle.
    “Nothing I could say could change your mind?”
    “I don’t know,” said Adora Belle. “Abracadabra, maybe? Got your spell book?” Moist was impressed at that. She could be s…spiky.
    “Oh…that type of lady,” said the Chair of Indefinite Studies wearily. “Modern. Oh well, I suppose you’d better come with me, then.”
    “What’s this all about please?” hissed Moist, as they followed the wizard.
    “I need something translated,” said Adora Belle, “in a hurry.”
    “Aren’t you glad to see me?”
    “Oh yes. Lots. But I need something translated in a hurry.”
    “And this cabinet thing can help?”
    “Perhaps.”
    “Perhaps? ‘Perhaps’ could wait until after lunch, couldn’t it? If it was ‘definitely,’ now, I could have seen the point—”
    “Oh dear, I’m afraid I’m lost again, and through no fault of my own, I might add,” grumbled the Chair of Indefinite Studies. “I’m afraid, they keep changing the parameters and they do leak so, I don’t know, what with one thing and another you can’t call your door your own these days…”
    “What were your sins?” said Moist, giving up on Adora Belle.
    “Pardon? Oh dear, what is that stain on the ceiling? Probably best not to know…”
    “What were the sins you committed in