by Some unknowable time later, I was dozing by the lily-pool when an unusual scent caught my nostrils.
I lifted my head, so fast as to crack my crown against the low-hanging branches above me. I snorted in annoyance.
Addie pretended she hadn’t noticed, but I could tell by her studiedly serene posture that she had. And she was laughing at me.
‘Addie!’ I hissed. ‘Do you smell that?’
She lifted her nose, and inhaled.
Then she bolted up right, and shot away from the pool at a full gallop.
I followed at a (slightly) more sedate pace, laughing.
I caught up with her at the mouth of our perfect little glade. She had her rump turned to me, her tail swishing, nose-down in a bag of chips. I poked my nose over her shoulder to have a look. They were the fat-cut kind, her favourite. Crispy on the outside, pillowy in the middle, and translucent with grease.
The bag was held by Jay.
‘Okay, this one’s Adeline,’ he called, and I saw somebody else behind him. Somebody tall, and broad-shouldered, with green-tinted skin, emerald-bright eyes, and bronzed, artfully-windswept hair.
My nose informed me that he, too, had brought an offering.
I swarmed past Addie and almost knocked the Baron over in my enthusiasm. Whether it was his presence that awoke such feelings, or the enormous plate he carried in his hands, I couldn’t have said. I mean, that sounds bad, but he’d brought pancakes. Not just any pancakes, either, but troll-sized pancakes; the kind we’d eaten that day at breakfast, when he had taken me out on what turned out to not be a date.
Well, at least the pancakes had been good. Seriously good. And these were the same: dripping in syrup, laden with ice cream, and tooth-achingly sweet.
I was halfway down the plate before it occurred to me to wonder what they were doing in our Glade, or how they had found it.
‘So we’ve found Ves,’ said Jay, laughing.
Alban winced, and steadied himself, almost bowled over by my attack on the pancake plate.
That was new. I, scrawny Ves, was big and muscly enough to knock over a troll.
‘Ves?’ said Alban. ‘That is you, isn’t it?’
I lifted my head, chewing an enormous mouthful of crisp pancake batter and mixed-fruit ice cream. ‘Obviously?’ I said, spraying syrup.
The word emerged as a whinny.
‘Damnit,’ I sighed. Another whinny.
‘It has to be Ves,’ said Jay. ‘You sent her off with Addie, and Addie’s here. How likely is it that there are two pancake-obsessed unicorns living on the Society’s doorstep?’
‘Obsessed?’ I objected. ‘I’m not obsessed. I can stop anytime I want.’ I punctuated this statement with an emphatic gulp of sweet, delicious food, and then took a determined step back, shaking my head.
This was real heroism, I thought, mournfully eyeing the plate. Forget precision-strike raids on ancient magickal towers, and wresting vital magickal history out of the proverbial grave. Refraining from eating the last mouthfuls of pancakes and ice cream? That was the stuff of legend.
‘Fine, I take it back,’ said Jay, grinning. ‘You aren’t in the least bit obsessed with pancakes.’
I nodded my satisfaction, made a lunge for the plate, and swallowed the last morsels in two bites.
‘Right, so,’ said Jay, patting my neck. ‘We’ve found Ves. Now what?’
Alban set the plate down in the grass, and I devoted myself to licking it clean of every last drop of syrup. ‘Milady said to bring her in, no?’
‘I have no idea how we’re going to get her up all those stairs.’
‘Maybe House can help with that.’
‘Might do,’ Jay agreed. Then he added, ‘Come to think of it, I have no idea how we’re going to get her out of this glade.’
‘She does look comfortable,’ Alban agreed.
I beamed. I was comfortable. ‘I was born to be a unicorn,’ I informed them both.
‘Uh huh.’ Jay looked a little wide-eyed as he stared at me. ‘I possibly don’t want to know what you just said.’
I bumped Addie with my shoulder, rubbed my nose against her side, and waited. If I stood here and looked pretty, would someone show up with more pancakes? This approach had been working pretty well for Addie.
‘You want to come with us, Ves?’ said Jay. ‘Milady wants to see you.’
I twitched my tail, thinking it over. Or, I tried. Memories slipped away like the water-weeds I’d tried to eat from the lily pond. I knew these men; they were dear to me. But they belonged to another time, one that faded like a dream whenever I tried to fix my thoughts upon it.
Stray memories of chocolate-pots and endless stairs floated through my mind; of velvet-clad wingback chairs, and heavy piles of books; of a huge desk in a huge library, Val sitting behind it; of a long avenue of trees, sometimes upside-down, and Zareen with a poison-green streak in her hair.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, licking syrup from my lips. ‘It’s peaceful here.’
‘Come on,’ said Jay. ‘Please? The Society needs you.’
I snorted.
‘We need you,’ added Jay.
‘True,’ said Alban. ‘We do. Pup’s lost without you. Val told me she’d chop off your horn if you didn’t come home. And Zareen sent this.’ He held up his phone. Letters on the screen swam about a bit, and came into focus: Ves, get your sorry butt back Home or you’ll be SORRY.
My ear twitched. Nobody wanted to get in the Queen of the Dead’s bad books.
‘The thing is,’ I said, sidling about a bit. ‘I don’t seem to have any hands.’
Jay sighed. ‘I wish we knew what she was saying.’
‘Or feet,’ I continued. ‘Or arms. You can’t be much of an agent without a few things like that, and I’ve kind of lost mine.’
Jay and Alban blinked blankly at me.
‘Do you happen to know how to de-horn me?’ I said. ‘Not in the way Val said. Do you have any idea how to make me Ves-shaped and humanoid? Because damned if I do.’ I wasn’t altogether sure I wanted to be Ves-shaped and humanoid again; I had the vague but settled sense that I had been making a right royal mess of being Ves, lately. I’d been okay as a unicorn. I was good as a unicorn.
‘Why don’t you just come with us?’ said Jay. ‘And we’ll see what happens? Nod once for yes. Shake for no.’
I stamped a foot.
‘Is that yes?’ said Jay.
I gave a horsie sigh, nipped affectionately at Addie’s neck, and stomped off towards the Glade’s entrance.
‘Ooh, we’re going,’ said Jay, and ran after me.
I left the Glade with a dual escort, Jay’s hand resting on the left side of my neck, Alban’s hand upon my right. I felt fine. I felt great.
Only, once we were over the threshold, everything fell apart. The lovely, fizzy feeling of magick-down-to-my-bones faded away, and with it, my flowing, shampoo-advertisement mane. When I tossed my head, the satisfying thwoosh of my horn slicing through empty air abruptly disappeared. I put up a hand, and groped around atop my own head.
‘Damnit,’ I sighed. ‘Did it have to be that easy…?’
‘Welcome back, Ves,’ said Jay, and I waited in general expectation of being hugged by somebody.
It didn’t happen. My gentleman companions were, if anything, edging away from me.
‘Oh, come on. I don’t get a welcome-back-to-two-legged-kind squish?’
‘Clothes,’ Jay coughed.
I looked down.
There weren’t any.
‘It did feel a bit draughty out here,’ I said nonchalantly. ‘Anybody lend me a something?’
Jay looked helplessly at Alban. Here in the height of summer, nobody needed coats much, and neither of them was wearing one. A jaunty sun bathed us in such balmy warmth, I wouldn’t have minded proceeding without clothes, except that I was clearly making my gentlemen uncomfortable.
‘Alban,’ I said, beaming. ‘I could wear your shirt like a dress.’
I could, too. The hem would probably hit me somewhere around mid-thigh, which was enough to preserve modesty until I could pick up some of my own clothes.
My request had nothing whatsoever to do with a desire to see a certain dishy troll without his shirt. Honest.
‘All right,’ said Alban, and my heart leapt.
But instead of stripping off his white, long-sleeved shirt, he plucked at it with both hands, and made a peeling motion. Another shirt came away in his hands, identical to the first. He shook this second shirt out, and gave it to me.
‘Nice trick,’ I said, and put it on. It might not be Alban’s real shirt (I guess?), but it was still faintly warm from his skin. I rolled up the sleeves a bit more.
‘I don’t have a lot of magick,’ said Alban, with a wry smile. ‘And I can’t do anything useful with it. But sartorial quandaries I can certainly solve.’
‘My hero,’ said I, and Jay rolled his eyes.
‘Welcome back, Ves,’ said Milady a little later.
I’d been delivered up to her tower by my joint escort, and they had left me there for a no-doubt minute debriefing. I’d dived past my own room on the way up, and grabbed a summer dress out of my wardrobe, plus a pair of sandals. It wouldn’t do to present oneself before Milady in nothing but a borrowed man’s shirt. I’d also found my shoulder-bag lying upon my bed, with all my stuff in it. No Mauf, though.
‘How long was I gone?’ I asked.
‘About three weeks.’
‘That’s… longer than I thought.’
‘And how did you enjoy your sojourn among the unicorns?’
‘It’s like I was one of them.’
‘Indeed.’ The air sparkled with her mirth. ‘Do you feel… in health?’
‘You mean, am I still an out-of-control magickal fountain, causing chaos wherever I go? No. I think… I think I’m okay.’
And I was. I still fizzed oddly with magick from time to time, and I couldn’t absolutely swear that weird things wouldn’t happen around me once in a while. But I felt more… centred. Less like a storm in a teacup. More like the old Ves. Kind of.
My bond with Addie, formed through the unusual and unexpected expedient of adopting her shape, her lifestyle and her company for three long weeks, held strong even when I was back in my regular configuration. I felt it, close to my heart, an invisible link across which magick flowed like the cool waters of the lily stream.
‘The Glade is a safe repository for the excess,’ said Milady with approval. ‘It is fortunate that you were able to bond with Adeline.’
‘Fortunate,’ I agreed, thinking of all the “fortunate” things that tended to happen around Milady. I hovered on the brink of asking her about my clairvoyance theory, and… didn’t. Did I lack the courage?
Apparently.
‘The lyre has been delivered back to your mother,’ Milady continued. ‘Jay has submitted a full report of its effects upon you. This is under investigation.’
‘Great.’
‘You may also like to know that Miranda is back with the Society.’
‘Ah…?’
‘She has not yet been restored to her former privileges and position, but I have hopes that this may come to pass in time.’
I said nothing.
‘Do you disapprove, Ves?’
‘I don’t trust her,’ I said bluntly.
‘We will all need time to rebuild our trust.’
‘Hmph.’ I swallowed my disgruntlement, and set the matter aside. Milady, invariably, knew best. ‘What about Torvaston’s research?’
‘Ah! Yes! You are all to be congratulated for such an exciting discovery. Your book — Gallimaufry — is with the library at present; Valerie is consulting him regarding the various records and copies he was able to make during your mission. Jay’s pictures also. The Court, meanwhile, has been loud in its praise of you all. They are extremely pleased with the results you were able to produce.’
‘Cool,’ I said. ‘And?’
‘I don’t precisely understand the question.’
‘Are we building a new Heart of Hyndorin?’
‘The Court appears to favour the term magickal modulator.’
‘Snappy. How nicely it alliterates.’
‘Quite. It is not yet known whether we will be able to recreate Torvaston’s work, but naturally we are prepared to try. Once the plans have been suitably processed, studied and stored, they will be delivered to Orlando. The Court will also be sending us one or two of their own inventors, to assist with the work.’
‘We do seem to be forging close links with the Court these days.’
‘Our goals happen to align.’
I fiddled with my own fingers, and shifted from foot to foot.
‘What is it, Ves?’ said Milady.
‘Can I come Home?’ I blurted. ‘Can we come home? It’s been wild working for the Court, but…’ I couldn’t put my homesickness into words, and I didn’t try. Milady must know how I felt.
‘I believe the project may now be declared out of your hands,’ said Milady. ‘There is no need for any repeat missions to the fifth Britain at this time.’
‘And if the Ministry takes exception to the pursuit of Torvaston’s project, we’re calling it Mandridore’s fault?’
‘It is entirely their fault,’ said Milady serenely.
‘Does that mean yes?’
‘Yes, Ves, I think it does.’
I fist-bumped the empty air.
‘Though,’ said Milady. ‘You will find that Zareen is not presently in residence.’
‘Is she all right?’
‘She is in poor health. I have sent her for treatment.’
Probably she had gone back to the School of Weird, or some related facility. My heart twisted with regret. Poor Zar had taken a serious beating; worse than the rest of us. Had it been worth it?
‘I believe she will make a full recovery,’ added Milady. ‘But it will be some time before she will rejoin us.’
‘Soooo,’ I said, smiling in sheer relief. ‘Everybody’s okay.’
‘More or less.’
‘And we’re all Home. Or will be.’
‘I hope that you will all remain so.’
‘What’s my next assignment, Boss?’
‘Take some rest.’
I blinked. ‘That’s not very fun.’
‘But it is necessary. You are almost as much in need of restful recovery as Zareen.’
‘No way. I’ve had three weeks in unicorn paradise. I’m fine.’
‘Rest,’ said Milady firmly. ‘After which, I will have an exciting new job for you.’
My ears pricked up at that. ‘Ohhh?’
‘I cannot share too many details at present, but—’
‘Come on,’ I pleaded. ‘Don’t leave me in suspense!’
‘Well. If Orlando, and his team, conclude that a new modulator may be successfully created from Torvaston’s plans, then of course the Court will put such a project into immediate development.’
‘Yes!’
‘And that means that materials will be required.’
‘Materials… oooh. You mean magickal Silver.’
‘What the Yllanfalen refer to as moonsilver. Yes.’
‘Or skysilver. I can never remember which. Is that what we’re calling it?’
‘I think “suitable materials” will suffice.’
‘I suppose it’s as good a code word as any.’
‘As you must be aware, this kind of suitable material is in short supply,’ said Milady firmly, towing us back on track.
‘Yes. It’s supposed to be mined out, even on the fifth.’
‘I believe we can conclude that there are no more accessible, naturally-occurring sources of this material remaining.’
‘Maybe on one of the other Britains?’
‘There is little reason to think so. And if there were, I cannot in the least imagine how we would find them. Can you?’
‘Well… no. There— did Jay tell you? There is a stash of it in Torvaston’s tower.’
‘Yes, but he is not of the opinion that it would be possible, or indeed desirable, to try to take it.’
He had a point. Luan would never give it up willingly, certainly not for such a purpose. The Earl strongly disapproved of the whole idea of recreating Torvaston’s invention. And to flat-out steal it… no. We, the Society, were better than that. We had to be.
‘I do have another idea,’ said Milady.
I perked up. ‘Is this one of your hunchy-things?’
‘My what?’
I coughed. ‘Er, nothing.’
There was a slight pause.
‘The fact is,’ Milady resumed. ‘I have consulted Val.’
‘Always a good move!’
‘She reports the existence of one or two ancient resources which suggest an interesting alternative. It may no longer be possible to pull natural Silver out of the ground, but if history is to be believed, one or two individuals have undertaken serious attempts to create it.’
‘Alchemy?’ I blurted.
‘Exactly.’
‘But— but— alchemy’s a dead art. Nobody’s bothered with transmutation in years.’
‘No one has publically attempted alchemical transmutation in years,’ Milady corrected.
‘You know I’m a sucker for a nice, dark secret.’
‘Indeed. Let me worry about who is going to perform this transmutation. Your job is to discover the means.’
‘I’m on the hunt for a long-lost recipe?’
‘Yes. I want you and Val to find out if these documents are authentic, and their accounts reliable. If they are, then your next task is to unearth further resources.’
My heart performed a weird flutter of excitement. Library mission! Yes!
‘So,’ I said. ‘When you say “rest”…’
‘If some part of this period of recovery involves your spending time in the library, I shall be quite satisfied.’
‘Attended, perhaps, by a duvet and a pot of chocolate?’ I said hopefully.
‘I believe that will be acceptable.’
I whipped out my phone, now blessedly functional again. Val, I typed. Weeks-long library slumber party. You and me. Starting now.
‘I’ll get right on that,’ I told Milady.
The air sparkled again. ‘I thought you might.’
My phone buzzed. Message from Val. It said: Get down here, slowpoke.
I kicked up my heels, and got going.
Milady spoke once more as I wrenched open the tower door. ‘Ves?’ she called. ‘There’s chocolate in the pot.’
