By Craig Shaw Gardner
"Guxx Unfufadoo is my identify. And killing wizards is my game!"
Thus spoke the scary rhyming demon, come from the Netherhells, to munch a number of the good Ebenezum.
Only it didn't rather determine that means. Ebenezum lived, cursed by way of Guxx with a potent curse that he should still henceforth be allergic to magic.
So Ebenezum and his hapless apprentice Wuntvor needs to trip to the town of Forbidden Delights to hunt a remedy. They locate the line fraught with peril and darkish magic, from tap-dancing dragons to enchanted chickens, slobbering trolls, winsome witches and sinister shrubbery.
It's as much as Wunt to determine them via, to utter the sounds of energy and communicate the spells that would insure their future health, wealth and persisted lifestyles. It in basic terms he may perhaps take into accout the words...
"A lot of fun." (Christopher Stasheff)
Read or Download A Malady Of Magicks (The Ebenezum Trilogy, Book 1) PDF
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Additional resources for A Malady Of Magicks (The Ebenezum Trilogy, Book 1)
Dent,” he said, “you can’t win, you know. ” He tried to make his eyes blaze fiercely but they just wouldn’t do it. Arthur lay in the mud and squelched at him. ” “I’m afraid you’re going to have to accept it,” said Mr. ” Mr. Prosser shook his finger at him for a bit, then stopped and put it away again. ” he said. “It’s a bypass. ” Bypasses are devices that allow some people to dash from point A to point B very fast while other people dash from point B to point A very fast. People living at point C, being a point directly in between, are often given to wonder what’s so great about point A that so many people from point B are so keen to get there, and what’s so great about point B that so many people from point A are so keen to get there.
One of the side effects of work on the Heart of Gold was a whole string of pretty meaningless coincidences. But it was not in any way a coincidence that today, the day of culmination of the project, the great day of unveiling, the day that the Heart of Gold was finally to be introduced to a marveling Galaxy, was also a great day of culmination for Zaphod Beeblebrox. It was for the sake of this day that he had first decided to run for the presidency, a decision that had sent shock waves of astonishment throughout the Imperial Galaxy.
Passing the bathroom he stopped to drink a large glass of water, and another. He began to suspect that he was hung over. Why was he hung over? Had he been drinking the night before? He supposed that he must have been. He caught a glint in the shaving mirror. “Yellow,” he thought, and stomped on to the bedroom. He stood and thought. The pub, he thought. Oh dear, the pub. He vaguely remembered being angry, angry about something that seemed important. He’d been telling people about it, telling people about it at great length, he rather suspected: his clearest visual recollection was of glazed looks on other people’s faces.