by ‘Morning!’ I said brightly, and slumped into the vacant chair at Jay’s elbow. ‘Disaster?’
‘Not quite,’ said Jay, and awarded me half a piece of toast slathered in peanut butter. ‘Just some, uh, sub-optimal developments.’
To be honest with you, I really don’t need feeding up; I’m quite comfortably proportioned as it is. But who can resist peanut butter on toast? I skipped over the question of Jay’s inscrutable motives in sharing his food with me — trying not to notice that he was doing the same for Indira — and focused on the article instead. It was light on information and heavy on rumour, but it had the salient facts down: a book featuring a previously unheard of, and extremely powerful, enchantment had come to light, and stood to revolutionise the way magickal libraries operated. They had spared no efforts to promote the story to its widest extent; every page glittered with come-hither-and-read magick.
To my further dismay, there was another picture inside: Jay holding the book.
I jabbed a finger at it. ‘Who took that?’
‘No idea,’ said Rob grimly. ‘But it must have been somebody at Home.’
I glowered into my berry-bowl, and comforted myself with a spoonful of yoghurt. It was one thing for the Society’s members to be a bit too seduced by the marvels of Bill to resist making a trip to see him; it was quite another to sell the story to the media, complete with photos.
‘Does Milady know?’ I asked.
‘We’re preparing a delegation,’ said Rob.
Hence the leaden atmosphere at the table. We were all going to get it in the neck.
‘Straight to bed, and without any supper,’ I said glumly.
‘A thousand lines each,’ added Val. ‘I must not reveal the Society’s secrets to the newspapers.’
Jay said, ‘How long before we get the swarms of reporters beating down the doors?’
‘No need to worry about that,’ said Rob. ‘The House is pretty hard to find, if you’re not familiar with the route.’
Jay looked sceptical. ‘Journalists have a way of getting around problems like that.’
Val set down her mostly-empty coffee cup with a snap. ‘One disaster at a time, if you please.’
‘Sorry,’ said Jay, contrite. ‘Milady first, reporters later.’
The first person dragooned into the role of peace envoy was Nell, seeing as she is our media co-ordinator and suchlike. I don’t actually know what her official job title is, if she even has one. She manages a lot of our technical requirements — she’s spent decades building a huge database of basically everything we know that we know, and her team fixes all the tech bits that go wrong. She’s also responsible for our internet presence (such as it is), which means our website and social media. That makes her our PR person, right? She’ll be spending half of her morning putting together the kind of press release that puts out fires, or so we hope.
The second person volunteered for duty was yours truly.
‘You’re so good at it, Ves,’ said Nell, fidgeting with her glasses. She had a second pair tucked into the coiffed coils of her grey hair; did she know? Apparently I was not the only person feeling wrong-footed by the events of the night.
‘What, exactly, am I good at?’ I said, trying not to sound quite so frosty as I felt.
‘Making things sound good,’ said Nell bluntly.
‘Charming people,’ muttered Jay.
‘Persuading Milady to let you off,’ said Rob, though since he teamed his comment with a smile of genuine affection I felt less like kicking him than I did the others.
‘You talk a good talk, Ves,’ Val said, arranging herself upon the side of my enemies without a trace of apology. ‘It’s one of your talents.’
‘Lucky me,’ I muttered.
I looked at Indira, in case she wanted to join in with the stone-throwing. But she stared back at me with big, guarded eyes and said nothing at all.
She looked, to my horror, as though she were more frightened of me than the rest of us were of Milady-in-anger.
I set that problem aside.
‘Fine,’ I said, magnificently gracious. ‘Your poor, beleaguered Ves will sally forth and take a few bullets while the rest of you… what?’
‘Review security,’ said Rob.
‘Figure out what in the world to do with Bill,’ Val put in.
I looked at Jay, who shrugged. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘What? Voluntarily?’
‘Why not?’
I narrowed my eyes. ‘You’ve seen how hard everybody else worked to get out of this.’
‘Except you.’
‘I’ve been betrayed by my own troops, sent forth as sacrificial victim—’
‘But with backup.’
I smiled, rather touched. ‘That’s kind. So kind I’d even give you that toast back, if I hadn’t already eaten it.’
Jay wrinkled his nose. ‘Er, no need to go to extraordinary lengths.’
In the event, Milady wasn’t even angry. But she was extremely alarmed, which was far worse.
‘Tell me everything,’ she ordered, when Nell and Jay and I had trailed into her tower-top room and stood lined up on the carpet like a row of naughty children.
We did, though not in any coherent fashion. Milady listened to our fragmented account of the previous day’s happenings in a taut silence that I found excessively uncomfortable. When we arrived at the developments of the morning, and held up the newspaper for her perusal, the air practically vibrated with tension.
When at last we stopped talking over each other, interpolating corrections upon each other’s narratives and generally confusing everything, Milady went so long without speaking that I began to wonder whether we’d lost her altogether.
At last, she spoke, and though her words emerged in her usual crisp fashion, and with every appearance of total composure, I could hear a note of something else lying behind them; something like fear. ‘While I appreciate Rob’s confidence in the elusiveness of this house, and his no doubt excellent efforts to assure our security within it, I must disagree with his conclusions. You are quite right, Jay: those with a strong enough motive to find us will surely contrive a way. That goes for reporters, and some other, rather more unsavoury characters as well. It is my conviction that this troublesome book must be taken out of the House at once, and conveyed to a safer spot.’
That caused a little stir. I exchanged a foreboding look with Jay, who looked as worried as I felt.
‘Jay, as our Waymaster, you are able to carry the book farther and faster than anybody else. I encourage you to choose a destination entirely at random; that way, it will be harder for others to guess the book’s location, and all but impossible for anyone to follow in any timely fashion. Do not linger at any henges. Take Ves with you; she is a woman of significant resources and will be able to resolve any difficulties that arise.
‘Nell, it falls to you to make a suitable announcement. By all means, confirm the find; it is too late to hope to deceive anyone on that score. Don’t try to play down either its significance or potential. What I want you to do is to mention, as casually as you can, that the book is no longer at Home. I am not at all concerned what excuse you come up with to explain its removal, provided only that it is unexceptionable. The more mundane, the better. I would not have anybody coming here expecting to find that book, nor do I wish it to be known that we are expecting exactly such an attempt.’
This barrage of instructions left all three of us a little stunned. I, being Ves the Glib (apparently) recovered my wits first, and said: ‘Forgive me, Milady, but why are we expecting such an attempt?’ I mean, I’d had no trouble grasping Bill’s importance to the magickal communities of Britain, but Milady was talking as though serious trouble was not only likely but inevitable.
Her response was swift, crisp and disdainful. ‘Ves. Nell. You have been with us long enough to be only too aware that we are not the only organisation in this country with an interest in ancient magickal artefacts. And you are as well aware that they do not all operate upon the same motives.’
‘Chancers, rogues and thieves, the lot of them,’ I murmured for Jay’s benefit.
‘Quite,’ said Milady. ‘Not all of our rival organisations can fairly be described in such terms, of course, but one or two of them can. In particular, you may have heard rumours of a new group calling themselves Ancestria Magicka.’
Jay choked. ‘Really?!’
‘I’ve heard of them,’ I confirmed, rolling my eyes. ‘Treasure hunters, the worst kind. No respect for heritage. Pirates, if you will.’
‘Snappy name,’ muttered Jay.
‘Formed last year, they have swiftly grown in both power and ambition. I have not made it generally known across the Society, but since January of this year there have been three known attempts by members of Ancestria Magicka to infiltrate our House. They were all foiled by the efforts of Rob Foster and his excellent team, and we do not yet know what, precisely, was their goal. Was it espionage? Theft? And more importantly, have there been other attempts that were successful enough to escape detection altogether?
‘The news that somebody from among our own ranks has been responsible for giving news and photographs to the press is a matter of some concern to me. It might have been done thoughtlessly, or it might have been the product of something much more reprehensible. The House itself may be able to provide some information upon this point, and I shall investigate that possibility as soon as possible. But in the meantime, I cannot feel that the book is as safe here as I would like. Its presence here is an open invitation to Ancestria Magicka, and to any other group with similar ambitions. Are there any questions?’
Jay said, ‘How long do I have to dance about the country with Bill?’
‘You’ll be notified when it is safe to return, or you may be called upon to hand off the book to somebody else. You will receive information, Jay.’
‘Right.’
‘Er,’ I said. ‘When you spoke of my “resolving difficulties”, what exactly did you have in mind?’
‘I hardly know, Ves, but Jay’s picture with the book has been helpfully spread around, hasn’t it? I do not know whether his status as Waymaster is broadly known outside of the Society, but it may well be. It is not impossible that somebody may guess, therefore, what we would do with the book, and come for you. That is why I advise staying away from the henges.’
‘In that case I’d like Rob with us, really,’ I said, though with only faint hope.
‘I cannot spare Rob at this time. He is needed here. But consider yourself approved to take whatever you want from Stores. I know that will please you.’
It did, for I was rarely given so complete a carte blanche. Whatever I want meant anything at all, up to and including the shiniest, most powerful toys.
‘I want a wand,’ I said.
‘Take the Sunstone.’
The Sunstone Wand is one of the Society’s prizes. It is a beautiful object, made from spangled Norwegian sunstone all fitted up with silver filigree (well, it was made in the nineteenth century, and they were not known for their restrained sense of the aesthetic). It is shorter than you might expect. The long, thin, delicate wands of popular imagination are lovely to look at, but hard to carry around without getting them broken. The Sunstone Wand was made to be used, not just admired, so it is only about a foot in length, and sturdy at half an inch thick.
Wands are popular for channelling magickal energies in all manner of useful ways, but a real wand — the kind you spell with a capital W — is a rare and fine thing indeed. Those Wands are made from pure crystal, crafted by a master Spellwright, and they tend to be heirlooms.
I presented myself at Stores in a state of such anticipation I was forgetting to breathe.
This time, Ornelle was there.
‘Back already?’ said she, eyeing me with the kind of suspicion I have in no way deserved.
I eyed her right back. Ornelle’s one of the few trolls regularly employed by the Society (most of the others are cooks). She’s splendidly sized and invariably splendidly dressed, with a penchant for big, dangly jewellery. A fellow magpie, she’s been in charge of Stores for years, and she is ferociously protective of the contents.
I usually try to slip by when she’s not there.
‘Milady sent me for supplies,’ I said, and tried (futilely) to make my short self look just a little bit taller.
‘All right.’ Ornelle slipped on a pair of bejewelled glasses and took up a clipboard. She proceeded to escort me every step of the way, and made notes about everything I took up. Infuriating. I may sometimes be slow about bringing things back but I’m not a thief.
She made some difficulty about the Wand.
‘You need the Sunstone again?’ There was an offensive emphasis on the word again.
‘Again!’ I echoed in outrage. ‘I’ve only had it once before and that was three years ago!’
‘And it took you almost six weeks to bring it back.’
‘I needed it for a while.’
‘And this time?’
‘I don’t know. I’m being sent out into the wilds of Britain with a protégé and an artefact to protect, not to mention my own hide. It might take some time.’
Ornelle wanted to make trouble, I could see that she did. But for all that she sometimes distrusts me, she knows I wouldn’t outright make up an order from Milady. Who would be mad enough to do that? The truth will always out.
She wrote down: “Sunstone Wand to Cordelia Ves” in big, blocky letters and underlined it, with the date written beside.
When I made to leave, she blocked my way. ‘Vesper,’ she said very seriously.
‘Ornelle.’
‘If anything untoward happens to that Wand, I’m repossessing everything you’ve ever been given.’
Everything? ‘You mean like my tea cup?’ It’s enchanted. Gives a different flavour of tea every time.
‘Like your tea cup.’
‘And the Curiosity that does my hair?’
‘Everything.’
I gulped. ‘I will defend it with my life.’
I didn’t need such an admonition, of course — we would all defend artefacts like the Sunstone Wand with our lives. That’s what we’re for. But Ornelle required reassurance, and apparently felt pacified.
‘Best of luck,’ she said as she cleared out of my way.
I wasn’t sure whether she was talking to me or the Wand, but I answered anyway. ‘Thanks.’
