by ‘Oh, it would,’ I agreed. ‘And that would give, for example, the Hidden Ministry strong reason to keep it secret, wouldn’t you say?’
‘No wonder Val had a hard time digging anything up.’
The pup jumped up onto one of the chairs and lay down in a cloud of dust. I could almost swear that she winked at me. ‘The Greyer cottage. John Wester was a more powerful Waymaster even than we thought, Jay, for that cottage — it must have taken a jaunt back a few centuries, and quite recently.’
Jay eyed the sleepy pup with an air of dejection. ‘And Zareen nuked it.’
‘She is going to be gutted.’
‘But the Spire?’ Jay looked around at the room we were in, as though its décor might yield some manner of clue. ‘It seems dead to me.’
‘Long abandoned,’ I agreed. ‘Can you, I don’t know, sense the presence of another Waymaster somehow?’
‘How would I do that?’
I shrugged. ‘Mauf, is there anything in those papers about how the Starstone Spire worked?’
‘Or what it did?’ put in Jay.
‘Little that is likely to be of interest to you,’ answered the book. ‘Its recorded purpose was merely residential. It was a private project of the Redclover brothers, and its tendency to perambulate was only noted much later. And without the full approval of the Dappledok Councils.’
‘There’s no mention of its time-wandering capabilities?’ I asked.
‘None, but there are notes regarding its habit of disappearing without trace fairly often. I believe the writer assumed the Spire had simply gone to another Dell, or to somewhere in Britain. They may not have been aware of the possibility of an alternative.’
That was interesting. It implied that those brothers had developed the Spire’s more remarkable capabilities themselves, privately, and without sharing it with the school or the town. Then again, why should they? Had we not already agreed that such powers would attract all kinds of attention, some of it very wrong indeed?
But what had happened to them?
The light dimmed momentarily, as though a cloud had crossed in front of the setting sun — or something moving much faster than that. I looked out of the window.
A trio of winged horses was on the approach. With the sun behind them, they were in silhouette, and I could not see who was riding them. ‘I really hope this is Rob,’ I said to Jay. ‘Because I am starving.’
It wasn’t Rob, but it was Zareen, and Miranda, and to my particular surprise, Baron Alban. It was the Baron who contrived to bring his steed up outside the window, and grinned in at us. ‘Need a ride?’
‘That, and dinner.’
He doffed his hat — a grey trilby, today — to me. ‘Yours to command, my lady.’
We opted not to climb out of the window again, not when there were perfectly good stairs to be used. I took the pup under one arm, only to be immediately relieved of her by Miranda at the bottom, who gathered her up with a mother’s tenderness and cooed something incomprehensible at her.
I realised, guiltily, that I had missed her last couple of feeds. I hoped Miranda would forgive me, considering the circumstances.
‘You haven’t been feeding her, have you?’ said Miranda, fixing me with a gimlet eye.
So much for that. ‘Yes!’ I yelped. ‘Except for the last few hours, but there was that whole stuck-on-the-roof thing, and we were distracted by…’
With a tut, Miranda walked off, already rummaging in her bag for a milk bottle.
‘Dramary’s Bestiary and time travel,’ I finished.
The Baron grabbed me in a hug, the squeezy kind. ‘Ves, you little vixen! Is it true?’
‘Er,’ I choked. ‘Cannot yet confirm, but all signs point to yes.’
Zareen punched the air. ‘I knew it.’
‘Oh? Since when?’
‘Since all that digging Val and I did. It didn’t add up, unless you factor in possible time leaps.’
‘Mauf’s got some records stashed which we can go through for more detail,’ I told her, tapping the Baron’s head until he set me on my feet again. ‘And there’s a lot of books in there.’
Zareen nodded. ‘Milady’s sending an incursion, soon as I confirm we’ve got you.’
‘How did you find us, anyway?’
‘Iridescent water. That was a good tip. Val found a reference to a mermaid cove, and there’s some old legend that says the waters turned pearly with the tears of some dumb princess or something. I daresay there’s another explanation. You are in Nautilus Cove, in case you’re interested, and it’s sort of tucked into the Norfolk coast. Hi, Jay.’
Jay, engaged in stuffing Dramary’s Bestiary (with great care) into my shoulder bag, merely nodded her way.
Zareen eyed the book hungrily. ‘Is that really Dramary’s Bestiary?’
‘Seems to be,’ said Jay.
Her fingers twitched. ‘Damn it. I’m going to have to wait in line behind Mir, aren’t I?’
‘And Val, I should say.’
‘And me,’ said the Baron.
Zareen scowled at them both. ‘I mean, I saved everybody’s hide a fortnight ago with my amazing powers of exorcism, but sure. You can make me wait behind the Baron.’
‘And destroyed the only building more or less known to be capable of time leaps,’ said Jay, with a crooked smile.
‘I did, didn’t I?’ groaned Zareen, and put her face in her hands.
Baron Alban gave the rump of his silver horse a friendly pat. ‘Shall we go?’
I wanted to stay and read every word of every book in that library, of course, but I also really needed a plateful of crumpets and a bucket of tea. So I said, ‘Tally ho,’ and hopped up onto the Baron’s horse. He mounted behind me, wound an arm around my waist, and nudged the beautiful creature into motion.
‘Hold on tight,’ he said in my ear.
Weary, cold and worn out with excitement, I had energy only to respond with a single syllable, and not even a meaningful one. ‘Mm,’ I said, at my most intelligent.
He chuckled. ‘Hang in there, Ves. We’ll get you fed shortly.’
‘It is unfortunate,’ said Milady the following day, ‘that your findings were not more concrete. However, I have a few points of interest to share.’
Jay and I had returned Home to a fine feast of a dinner, and to my relief we had been permitted to spend the remainder of the evening recovering from our escapades, uninterrupted by any summons from Milady. She had even give us sufficient time, upon the following morning, to sleep in.
I felt loved.
At eleven sharp the next morning the summons had come, and by then I was more than ready to report, for I was dying of curiosity upon one or two points. House had provided chairs for us in Milady’s tower, which was nice. I had bagsied the purple one and sat straight-backed therein, stubbornly resisting the temptation to sprawl out comfortably. It was that kind of chair. Jay had a plush red number to my right. Milady, as ever, was a sparkle in the air, and there was nobody else present.
It had not taken all that long to make our report, since much of its contents had already found its way to Milady via Valerie and Zareen. The bit about the Starstone Spire prompted a silence from Milady which I wanted to call enthralled, but which might rather have been grim.
‘Firstly,’ continued Milady, ‘I have received an enquiry from the Hidden Ministry as to your doings and findings in Dappledok Dell. Naturally I returned a comprehensive answer, and have subsequently received a strict order of secrecy. No part of your discoveries, or any theories as to their possible meanings, are to be shared outside of this Society. Indeed, I have been strongly encouraged to refrain from mentioning it to anybody within the Society either, though they did not quite have the temerity to order my silence there as well.’
Interesting.
Jay gave a whistle. ‘Sounds like we might be on to something.’
‘I fear so, Jay.’
‘Permission to keep digging?’ I said hopefully.
‘I am sorry, Ves, but no. Not at this time. And I hope this will not be one of those occasions when you take it upon yourself to skirt around my decision.’
I tried my best to look innocent, which was probably about as successful as all the other times. ‘Would I?’
‘Please refrain. You have too much common sense to imagine that it would be in any way wise. The Ministry is correct to fear the consequences of a general discovery of any of the Redclover brothers’ more remarkable achievements.’
‘But — but only imagine! Today, we are reduced to grubbing about in the dirt salvaging what little can be retrieved of a much-decayed heritage, and that’s less and less every year. But if we could go back, nothing like Dramary’s Bestiary need ever be lost again. No species will ever be extinct beyond revival, no great Treasures — the kinds that save lives, even! — will ever be destroyed or lost. We could do so much more good!’
‘Yes, but for every advantage you could name, there is the less desirable alternative. Some Treasures are better lost, there is not room in this world for every magickal beast to survive, and while the Bestiary is a delight, it is still only a book. Time is cruel, Ves, but some of its more brutal effects are sadly necessary, however much we may wish it otherwise.’
I was too busy choking internally over the words “only a book” to reply. I was disappointed, too. Milady’s arguments made sense overall, but the fact that they were coming from her made rather less. She could be a lot more rules-oriented than me, sure, but she was also extremely dedicated to the Society, and its goals. How could she flatly turn down such an opportunity?
‘What if the wrong people got hold of a functional Striding Spire, or Greyers’ Cottage?’ said Jay, who obviously had more of his wits intact. ‘What if Ancestria Magicka—’ He came to an abrupt halt, his eyes wide.
‘Precisely,’ said Milady.
Oh.
Oh, dear.
I had wondered before what was the real purpose behind Ancestria Magicka. On the face of it, they were doing the same kinds of things as we were, albeit with different motives. Tracking down lost artefacts and retrieving them, restoring them, saving them — whatever you wanted to call it. Their ultimate intentions might be more materialistic than altruistic, but it was essentially the same gig, . We weren’t the only two such organisations in Britain, either, not to mention the rest of the world.
But someone had gone to enormous trouble and expense to found Ancestria Magicka, very recently. Emphasis on the expense. They had been kitted out with the very best of everything and everyone — and why? I wasn’t exaggerating when I said there was less and less left of our magickal heritage to salvage. Could they hope to find enough valuable Treasures to justify the extraordinary amounts of money they were shelling out? Either they were confident that they could, somehow, or they were being backed by somebody with oodles of money to burn, and no particular concern how much of it they lost.
If the former… how were they so confident they could do better than we could? The Society was founded eons ago, it had many years of experience behind it, and while it wasn’t nearly so well-funded as Ancestria Magicka, it still managed to attract many top professionals in our shared field. We did well.
And we still didn’t get hold of anywhere near enough valuables to cover our costs, even had we been disposed to sell them, which wasn’t at all the point.
What if we were not the first people in modern history to rediscover the Redclover brothers and their Striding Spire? Or what if somebody had stumbled over the Greyer Cottage, or a similar example?
That would be a pretty strong motive for somebody moneyed and ambitious to go all-in at this game. And Ancestria Magicka had sent some of their best agents out in pursuit of the Greyer Cottage, with the apparent goal of coercing its resident spirits into working for their organisation instead. We had assumed that all they wanted was to set up their headquarters, Ashdown Castle, as an equivalent to our own, dear House — with extra perambulatory capabilities as a bonus. But what if they had known more than we did? What if they had actually been after John Wester because he was the only surviving (more or less) Waymaster who could leap through time, as well as space?
Hang on, though. What if John Wester wasn’t the only one left? What if there were more?
‘Um,’ I said, and swallowed something like bile. ‘What else do they know that we do not?’
‘Too much,’ said Milady grimly. ‘And I am sorry to add that Lord Garrogin’s hunt for a double agent has ended in failure. According to his conclusions, no one at Home was responsible for feeding information about the book to Ancestria Magicka, or for secreting a tracking enchantment between its pages. This means either that someone anticipated his involvement, and has contrived a way to lie successfully even to a Truthseeker, or that there is some other explanation, the details of which I cannot begin to guess.’
‘That’s a problem,’ I said weakly.
‘Zareen, I am afraid to say, came under particularly close scrutiny, considering her apparent prior acquaintance with George Mercer.’
‘It cannot have been Zar,’ I said quickly.
‘I believe it to be most unlikely myself,’ said Milady. ‘The worst I am inclined to believe is that she may, in an unguarded moment, have let something slip about the book. But that she would go to the lengths of compromising its security, I am much more in doubt. However.’
I did not like the way Milady said however. Her voice had gone all cold.
‘If she indeed has connections with a member of an opposing organisation, whose motives and possible information we have increasing reason to fear, then those connections must be put to use for the benefit of the Society. I do not believe either of you will much like the next assignment I have in mind for you, but you must accept my apologies.’
I now understood what Mabyn had meant when she had described Milady as apologetic, but not at all sorry. ‘Anything you require of us shall of course be carried out, Milady,’ I said as stoutly as I could.
‘I know, Ves,’ she replied. ‘I need you to find out the nature of Zareen’s acquaintance with Mercer, and how close they are. I also need you to ascertain the extent of Zareen’s loyalty to the Society.’
‘I don’t need to do that last part,’ I said. ‘I know her to be entirely loyal.’
‘Would you stake your life on it, my Ves?’
‘Without hesitation.’ Zareen has been a member of the Society for almost as long as I have, and she has always had my back. I have always had hers. I could not doubt her, any more than I could doubt my left arm or my right leg.
Jay shifted in his seat, but thankfully said nothing.
Milady was silent for a time.
‘Zareen has told me that she met Mercer at school,’ Milady finally said. ‘And that there is little contact between them now. I hope the latter is not quite true, for we must learn what the group calling themselves Ancestria Magicka know, and with minimal further loss of time. If, as we fear, they are ahead of us in the matter of the Spire, or other, equivalent resources, they must be interfered with before they have chance to do anything too damaging with this dangerous knowledge. Your assignment, then, is as follows.’
Milady can be the queen of dramatic pauses, when she wants to. Jay and I waited. I, at least, might have been holding my breath.
‘I require you to go renegade,’ said Milady in a dispassionate tone. ‘To my infinite regret, my two best Acquisitions Specialists and I have been unable to agree regarding your recent findings, and the three of us have parted ways. Zareen shall join you. Your goal is to found a more forward-thinking establishment, without me and my hidebound, restrictive notions. You will leave this House tomorrow morning with everything you can carry, and no more. Temporary accommodation will be provided for you. Your contact will be Rob, who, poor man, cannot at all decide whether he would like to remain with the Society or join in with your exciting new adventure. Others may secretly offer you what aid they may. I imagine my recent decisions may prove sadly unpopular with all manner of my employees.’
I, too dumbfounded to speak, could only nod. Jay said nothing either.
Milady’s middle name had better be “Devious”, or I shall be sorely disappointed.
‘This news shall of course reach Ancestria Magicka by way of Zareen and George Mercer,’ continued Milady. ‘I shall be most interested to know what their response to it will prove to be.’
I found my voice. ‘To be clear, Milady. Are we to actually pursue any of these fictional goals during our sojourn away from Home?’
‘That I leave in your capable hands, Ves. Yours too, Jay. I am sure you will know just how to proceed.’
In other words, Milady could not officially tell us to investigate the Spire, or the Greyer Cottage, any further. If it were known that she had done so, the future of the entire Society could be at risk — being, as we are, dependent upon the Ministry’s goodwill, not to mention funding.
But she could no more ignore this development than we could. The alternative, then? Put us in a position where we could do it without, apparently, her official sanction, and she could deny all knowledge of it later.
That put us in an interesting predicament, for if the Hidden Ministry found out what we were up to, it would be more difficult for Milady, no longer our employer, to shield us from the consequences.
On the other hand, for a little while we had more or less total freedom to do as we chose. Dangerous or not, that was going to be a hell of a lot of fun.
Jay, though, was struggling. ‘Is… um, does this amount to official permission to…?’
‘No,’ said Milady.
‘It amounts to unofficial permission,’ said I.
The sparkle in the air brightened for a moment, which I had always taken to be Milady’s way of laughing at us. Nicely, of course. ‘Listen to Ves,’ she told Jay. ‘Do as she thinks best. She will not lead you too far astray.’
‘Or at least, not much farther than is justifiable,’ I amended. And considering that we had just been given an unofficial order to kick over pretty much all the traces, quite a lot was going to be justifiable.
‘Dismissed, then,’ said Milady. ‘There’s chocolate in the pot, and you may take the pot with you when you leave.’
I heaved a small, inward sigh of relief. To brave the dangers of the Ministry, Ancestria Magicka, the Spire and clear and consistent misdemeanour all at once was one thing. To do it without a drop of Milady’s finest hot chocolate was quite another.
‘Stop by Zareen’s on your way down,’ added Milady. ‘You will find her reasonably well-informed already.’
‘This is not what I had in mind when I joined the Society,’ said Jay a short while later.
We were huddled up in Zareen’s tiny cubbyhole of a room, what we colloquially call the Toil and Trouble division. We were sharing the chocolate three ways, Zareen in her big chair with her feet on the desk, Jay and I perching on the edges of the latter.
‘You thought it would be straightforward, did you?’ said Zareen, without much sympathy.
‘It was when my parents worked here,’ he said, rather defensively.
‘Division?’ said Zareen.
‘Enchantments, and Beasts.’
Zareen waved a hand dismissively. ‘Tame stuff. Welcome to Acquisitions and Research. Much more fun.’
‘Much more confusing,’ said Jay.
I felt some sympathy for him, I really did. He was the type to prefer to play by the rules. It made him feel better. What was he supposed to do with a job where the rules changed by the day, and where you could be officially (unofficially) ordered to ignore them all? He wasn’t going to find it easy.
‘We’ll make a maverick of you yet,’ I said to him, with a reassuring pat to his shoulder.
‘Great,’ he muttered.
‘So let’s get this straight,’ said Zareen, finishing her chocolate with an appreciative slurp and setting her empty cup upon the desk. ‘We’re to sort of found our own Society splinter group, independent of Milady’s authority or influence, with some degree of help from supposed rogue agents within the Society. I’m to make George believe we’ve gone rebel, in case Ancestria wants to take another shot at recruiting us, and if they do, we’re to find out what they know about the Spire — and anything else we can dig up, too. Oh, and if we can manage to find out how the Spire worked, and whether there are any more functional examples left in the world, then we get bonus points.’
‘That’s pretty much it,’ I said. ‘Oh — if we can find another Dappledok pup, too, Miranda will love us forever. She wants a breeding pair.’
‘The Ministry might have let us keep the current one, but they’ll never go for our having a breeding pair.’
‘Milady will talk them round. Or ignore them.’
Jay snorted.
Zareen silently checked about twelve things off on her fingers. ‘Right. Easy,’ she said, with a roll of her eyes, and reached for her phone.
‘So how do you know George Mercer?’ I put in, as she waited for whoever it was to pick up.
‘Met him at the School of Weird.’
‘The what?’
‘The Seminary for the Stranger Arts. Already an adorable euphemism. They mean the Dark and Dire Arts of course, but nobody quite went for that title for some reason. The students call it the School of Weird. Oh,’ she said then into her phone. ‘Hi, darling. We need to talk. Usual place? Great. Tonight, eight o’clock.’ She hung up.
‘George?’ I guessed.
She nodded.
So much for little real contact between them. But then, Milady had probably known that. Zar didn’t hobnob with George Mercer in the same way that she and Jay and I were in no way sallying forth to disobey all the Ministry’s sternest orders with Milady’s semi-official sanction.
‘Excellent,’ I said to Zareen. ‘Can we come?’
‘No.’
‘Please?’
A pause, and a glare from Zareen. ‘Oh, fine,’ she said, capitulating with a sigh. ‘I never could resist the Ves puppy eyes for long.’
I grinned smugly. ‘I know.’
***
So this is the last episode that’s available in paperback at the moment (working on it, I swear), and of course there’s an ebook. Meanwhile, Patreon rolls along with spiffy extras and advance copies of the new stuff!
Right, done with the sort-of-necessary-I’m-afraid plug; are you ready for the Fifth Britain? Turn the page! ->
