Fire Games: How Vicky lost her Shirt twice in one Night. (A King's Watch Story Book 5)
Author: Hayden, Mark
Date: 2021-02-14
Description: A King's Watch Story 5
Publisher: Paw Press

Contents

Title & Copyright

1 — O wad some Power the giftie gie us...

2 — By Royal Command

3 – Warm-up

4 – Happy Birthday. Not.

5 – Honoured Guest

6 – Party Time

7 – Fire Punch

8 – Fiesta Time

9 – Settlement

10 – Inheritance

11 – Coming Home to Roost

12 – To see oursels as others see us

Author's Note

FIRE GAMES

Or, the story of how Vicky lost her shirt twice in one night.

A King’s Watch Story - Book 5

by Mark Hayden

01 Edition February 2021 1st Release

Copyright © Paw Press 2021

www.pawpress.co.uk

Front Cover © Lawston Design 2020

www.lawstondesign.com

Images © Shutterstock

1 — “O wad some Power the giftie gie us...”

Welcome to Fire Games…

This story is a shorter adventure from the tales of the King’s Watch and takes place alongside the main narrative.

To be specific, this story takes place slightly after Six Furlongs, the Eighth Book of the King’s Watch.

All the characters mentioned here, and all the special magickal terms are explained in the Who’s Who and Magickal Glossary on the Paw Press website.

Mark Hayden.

Vicky Robson

I’ve learnt a lot from Uncle Conrad since we first met, although a great deal of that is utterly useless and takes up space in me brain that could better be dedicated to something important. For example, the history of Double Gloucester cheese occupies the spot where I should be remembering the contestants on Love Island. I may never forgive him for that.

On the other hand, he did teach me the real power of a first impression, which is why I wore a new dress and new boots to meet the Eurostar from Paris, and why I’d booked a table for lunch at the Booking Office restaurant in the Gothic monstrosity that is the St Pancras Hotel.

My lodger came through the Eurostar Arrivals barrier first. When Desirée Haynes and I bought our flat in Bloomsbury, we needed a tenant to help cover the mortgage, and against all advice, we’d taken in Alain Dupont. He was lugging two lots of main luggage, his own and his travelling companion’s. When he’d backed away with a quick, ‘Allo Vicky,’ Maëlys Tangi approached, and boy was I glad I’d made an effort.

The newly-promoted Chief Druid of the Order of Dol de Bretagne looked a bit different from when I’d first met her. Gone were the robes and Goddess Braid, and in their place were blonde highlights cascading down a cashmere Burberry trench coat that cost more than a month’s wages for a Watch Captain. I couldn’t even guess at the price of the cavalry boots: they just screamed hand-made. I was so taken with the outfit that I nearly missed the Glamour she was using to hide a wheelie suitcase. ‘Welcome to London, Mademoiselle Tangi.’

She came in for the zero-contact double kiss and gave me a hundred watt smile. ‘Désolée,’ she said, which I think is French for I’m really sorry. She also gave me a look that suggested she’d accidentally killed my guinea pig. Eh? ‘Alain will explain,’ she added.

She deftly collected her main suitcase and left me holding the smaller one. Ow! The handle was hot with Lux, and I let go quickly. By the time I’d looked up, she was half way down the concourse, flicking her hair over her shoulder and waving at someone in the distance.

‘Nice to meet you, too,’ I muttered at her retreating back.

‘You ’ave ’ad a lucky escape,’ said Alain. ‘Believe me.’

I turned and wagged me finger like a proper teacher. ‘Hey! You’re back in England now, so don’t forget your aspirates.’ He gave me a micro-shrug and a sad smile. I opened my arms and said, ‘C’mere you.’ I gave him a proper hug. ‘What’s up, Alain? She can’t have been that bad.’

He shivered. ‘It was like the film. Life of Pi. I ’ave shared a table with a tigress.’ He shook his head, and must have shaken his aitches loose, too. ‘How is Conrad? I have heard nothing since yesterday.’

I could see that there was something still bothering him, and at that moment, my stomach rumbled: I’d skipped breakfast. ‘Come on, there’s a table waiting for us over there, and I’m paying. They specialise in the best of British cuisine.’

‘And that is a recommendation how?’ He shook his head again, but grabbed his case and followed me down the concourse anyway. Alain has never knowingly refused a free lunch.

‘Conrad’s doing okay, considering,’ I said. ‘You haven’t heard from him because Mina swapped his steam-powered dumbphone for an iPhone with no contact details in it except hers. I think she wanted him to stay out of trouble and focus on getting better, but he had nothing to do, so he looked on it as a challenge. I’m sure he’ll have tracked down your number soon.’

We paused outside the restaurant to bow our heads at the Midland Railway War Memorial. It was the day after Remembrance Day, and a pair of poppy wreaths sat underneath the artistically rendered names of the fallen railwaymen.

Yesterday had been a strange day in Merlyn’s Tower. By definition, no Mages are remembered on any war memorial on account of the Annex of Westphalia forbidding them from military combat, but for the first time ever (according to Maxine the Clerk), Hannah had led us outside to join in the Act of Remembrance held by the Yeoman Warders and the civilian Tower of London staff. ‘For Conrad,’ she’d said rather obliquely. ‘I know he’d make a big fuss if he were here.’ But he wasn’t there, was he?

The man himself is in hospital, recovering from a punctured kidney: prognosis good. They might let him out tomorrow.

We were shown to a table in a quiet corner, and I re-wove Maëlys’s Glamour to hide the suitcase. ‘Right, Alain. What’s up?’

He looked down at the menu. ‘Last night, I ended it with Morane.’

‘What? I thought it was true love!’

He gave one of those eloquent shrugs that Conrad is always trying – and failing – to copy. ‘So did I. So much so that I started looking for a job.’ He looked up. ‘Morane will never leave Brittany, and I would always be a second-class citizen in her world because I am not Breton.’

I sat back, stunned. ‘Surely it’s not that bad?’

‘Bretons are like people everywhere, but not the Druids. Perhaps, if I learnt their incomprehensible language, they might accept my children. Perhaps not. Anyway, I have a life here, and now that I am home again, I think I will have the beef. Oh, and Maëlys is seeing an old friend and is going back on Tuesday. I shall text you the time of her train.’

Poor lad. I really thought Morane might be the one for him. Aye, she’s a bit intense, but even so… And as a non-Mage, Morane would be as much of an outsider in the real Druid circles as Alain. Was it something else? Did he miss city life? Or did he miss Rachael Clarke?

Alain doesn’t have a romantic thing for Conrad’s sister, but he does have a stake in her new venture. Rachael is in the process of setting up Occult Estate Management Ltd to look after the wealth of the magickal aristocracy, only she’s legally barred for two more months while she serves her notice with her current employer. And that leaves Alain holding the fort until she rides up on her white charger to take over. Not really. Horses are Conrad’s things. Rachael will arrive in a stretch limo. So there.

I’ve only heard about Uncle C’s latest brush with death second hand from Mina and the Boss, so there was a limit to what I could tell Alain over a very good lunch and bottle of French wine. He looked a lot more cheerful at the end, and told me that he had an appointment with yet another expensive lawyer about paperwork for the Financial Conduct Authority, but it wasn’t just the thrill of Compliance Management that put a spring in his step.

‘His junior is very hot, Vicky. I had forgotten that she was going to be there.’

I slapped his hand. ‘Hey! I’m a girl too, remember. I’ve told you not to talk about the sisterhood like that. Try again.’

He gave me a hard stare. ‘Monsieur Ingram’s junior is an intelligent woman who really cares about her client’s problems and understands people as individuals. Better?’

We stood up to kiss goodbye. ‘See you later.’

‘Thanks for that, Vicky. I owe you. And she really is hot. Au’voir.’

I despair of men sometimes. Most of the time, actually. And when I’m not despairing, I’m filled with false hope and delusion. ‘They’re not worth it,’ I said to myself. Or so I thought.

‘He’s definitely worth it,’ said the waiter.

‘Howay man! You scared us half to death.’

The young lad looked contrite. ‘I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn. Can I get you anything else?’

‘Just the bill, thanks.’

And that left me with a large bill and a throbbing magickal suitcase that was too dangerous to wheel all the way to the City. I left the lovesick waiter a big tip and caught a cab to Salomon’s House.

Now that I’m no longer partnered with Conrad, Hannah has allowed me to work mostly from London, and I’ve sneakily taken up residence at the Invisible College. It’s not that I dislike Merlyn’s Tower, but there’s no privacy and people keep trying to give me things to do that are none of my business. To a lot of them, I’m still the junior dogsbody.

The King’s Watch has always had a couple of rooms in Salomon’s House, one of them being the Constable’s (it’s firmly locked). The other room was a bit of a dump until I moved in – or should I say that we moved in.

Another reason for being here is to see Desi, and now that she’s an officer in the Reserves, she can officially share with me. I know it means that we see a lot of each other, but I can cope. It also meant that we could spruce up the place a bit. I sent her a text and she met me in the Receiving Room, just inside the great outer doors. I wasn’t going to walk into the main building with that suitcase.

She came up to me and sniffed. ‘You smell of wine. I’m jealous, but not of that thing you’ve brought with you. It’s toxic.’

‘It’s not clever, is it?’

She reached a hand towards the suitcase and drew it back. ‘Could it be booby-trapped?’

‘Nah. She wouldn’t dare, though she did run off and leave us to it without any instructions. I’m sure it’s fine, really.’

Desi muttered something about French Mages, and I didn’t dare correct her. Maëlys would be most offended at being described as French. After that, my housemate stood up straight and opened her chest. She took a deep breath and started to sing.

Desirée is a Choral Mage (or Bard if you’re a Druid). She can take the ambient Lux and focus it, a bit like the sonic version of a laser. She can do other things, but for today I was going to tap that power and examine Maëlys’s magick. Practising our teamwork is another good reason for moving in to Salomon’s House.

I opened my hidden ear to receive her input (which I didn’t know I could do until recently), and the Lux trickled down into my hands and sharpened my Sight. The stiff pink plastic of the case glowed with Runes, and I could see why no one wanted to touch it.

Instead of just diverting attention away from the case, one of the Runes had spikes on it, a bit like wrapping the handle in barbed wire. Arrogant, but not illegal, and not difficult to unravel when you’re having the magick of the Invisible College channelled into you.

Desi stopped singing and grunted. ‘You do mix with some well dodgy people, Vic.’

‘Goes with the territory, I’m afraid. Get the door for us, will you?’ She did, and I waited until we were safely ensconced in the Watch Room before I opened the case to examine Maëlys’s offering.

The Tangi family own a set of three awesome magickal weapons: sword, flail and mace, and I’d walked off with their mace as the spoils of war. Now, I’m a great believer in self-defence, but a four kilogramme mace is a bit OTT most of the time, and it’s hard to get brains out of the studs. I know that because I had to clean it. I only threw up once.

To get the mace back without starting a vendetta, Maëlys had offered something more suited to my natural talents, and here it was, nestling in re-used Amazon packaging and bubble-wrap: a Mirror of Catoptromancy.

‘You are not putting that thing on your dressing table,’ said Desi.

‘Well, that depends, doesn’t it? Let’s get it out.’

She helped me remove the padding, and I lifted the mirror into the light. ‘Wow, this is some serious shit.’

‘You’re not kidding. It looks like something from a nightmare.’ She wasn’t wrong.

The heart of the mirror was black, a sheet of glass nothingness about eighteen inches by two feet that absorbed all light. Not creepy at all. To make sure you got the message, it was mounted in a black wooden frame that someone had decorated with carvings of skulls, maggots and waning moons. In pride of place at the top was a gilded image of Medusa.

‘It’s a good job you don’t have a phobia of snakes,’ said Desi. ‘I couldn’t be in the same room as that thing very long on my own.’

I peered at the frame. ‘It gets worse. To activate the Work in the mirror, you need to touch the skulls in a certain order and then fondle snakey-face.’

‘Yeuch. How do you know that?’

‘Because I’m a proper Sorcerer and you’re not.’ She went to dig me in the ribs but I saw it coming. ‘If you look at them carefully, the skulls glow differently.’

Her eyes flicked from the mirror to me. ‘Are you going to try it now?’

‘Might as well. Pile up them books on the table, will you?’

We’ve both been doing a lot of research, and another of the Watch perks is the privilege of taking books from the Esoteric Library, provided they don’t leave the building. Desi made a stand out of old leather volumes and stood away to one side.

I carefully carried the mirror over and made sure it was steady. I sat down in front of it and took a deep breath. ‘Here goes.’

The first carving did nothing other than pulse with Lux when I activated it – a safeguard to stop non-Mages from accidentally finding the combination. The second skull did something else, and I didn’t know what until Desi started looking round. ‘We’re in a projected Silence. Clever. And that’s why I’m a proper Sound Mage and you’re almost as deaf as Conrad. Allegedly.’

I ignored the insult and activated the third skull, completing a circuit which allowed the glass heart of the mirror to engage with the Lux in the frame. Whoever had made this combination may have lacked taste, but they knew how to craft an Artefact, an impression confirmed when I touched the fourth skull.

‘What just happened?’ said Desi.

‘Psychic shield, I think. To hide us from stray Spirits.’

‘Sometimes I regret being your friend, but go on. If we’re cast into Hell, I will spend eternity saying I told you so.’

‘Aye. You and me Mam. Ready?’

I touched the grinning image of Medusa, and the surface of the glass started to swirl, blacks within blacks, a murky kaleidoscope of inky splodges.

‘Great. Now what?’

‘Shh. It hasn’t been used in a long time. I can feel it reaching for the Sympathetic Echo.’

Actually, that wasn’t true. The mirror was trying to align itself with me and my Imprint, but if I’d said that, Desi would likely have smashed it instantly. The pastor at her church has preached a lot of sermons about this sort of thing.

My right hand twitched forwards, and I had to grab it with my left to stop it touching the glass. There’s one very simple rule in Catoptromancy: Do Not Touch the Glass. Why? Just in case it’s haunted. I didn’t mention that to Desi either.

The mirror wasn’t haunted. Well, probably not. The temptation to touch it is one final protection against mundane interference. I hope. The glass was ready now, and I projected a wave of re-set magick to bring it to life.

‘Now we’re talking,’ I said. ‘Look.’

She peered sideways. ‘Hunh. It works.’

Staring back from the glass was me. But not me. Or rather, it was a more real version of me. Instead of a mirror image, it was a camera view – I raised my right arm, and in the mirror it rose on the left, as if I were looking at my window on a video call. And that wasn’t the only difference, a point that Desi lost no time in making.

‘You look so rough. Your makeup’s gone and your hair’s gone frizzy. Almost as bad as mine.’

‘I had noticed, thank you very much, and stop looking at me – look at the wall.’

‘Oh my God, Vic. Where’s the Queen?’

In the glass, our official portrait of the sovereign was gone. We looked at each other. ‘You know what that means?’

‘We’re looking at the next level. But you’re not naked…’

As you’d expect, the magickal architects of Salomon’s House had factored in the Spirit Realms. Only a few places in the UK do this, but the whole of the Invisible College exists as-is in both the mundane world and the Spirit Realm, for two very good reasons.

First, it makes it so much easier to keep them out. Your average Spirit can float through most of London without hindrance and without being able to manifest in the mundane buildings, but Merlyn’s Tower, Salomon’s House and a few other places bend the lowest levels of reality and plait them together, and that’s why this place is so hard to get into, for both Spirits and humans.

The second reason lies in the College basement – the Calling Rooms. It’s where the Necromancers go to party, and where I’d need to venture if I truly wanted to understand the mirror. Oh, and the naked thing is because on the level above the Spirit Realm you are stripped of all vanities and dissembling. I guess this mirror must have a modesty Work built in. Something like that.

‘I suppose the skulls were a clue,’ I groaned. ‘This is a Mirror of the Damned.’

Desi laughed. It’s what friends are for. ‘What on earth are you gonna do with that thing? Surely you’re not gonna keep it?’

I relinquished the connection to the mirror and sat back. ‘What the hell else can I do? I can’t send it back and keep the Tangi mace, can I? Hannah would blow a fuse first and then it would start a vendetta.’

She peered at the lifeless mirror. ‘But it’s not as advertised, is it? They promised a Mirror of Catoptromancy and this is not that. They must have known.’

‘Possibly.’

A proper Mirror of Catoptromancy would have let me see much further into the Sympathetic Echo and find useful things like whether our decorator is really at the hospital like he said or whether he’s off doing another job somewhere. A Mirror of the Damned is different – it’s a window on to the higher planes. It wasn’t working properly in here, but if I took it home and used it, I could sit and watch the Ghosts and lesser Dæmons go by.

‘I need to get it evaluated by a proper Necromancer. And I need help using it.’

‘Good luck with that,’ said Desi, getting ready to leave. ‘Can you name a Necromancer you trust?’

I trust the Oracle of Salomon’s house, but she’s not been in the job five minutes and Necromancy is not her speciality, even though she’s in charge of it. The actual Reader in Spirit Arts is about as trustworthy as a fox in a henhouse, as Conrad would put it.

And thinking of Conrad… ‘Cordelia Kennedy. Uncle C’s new partner.’

‘Really? You’ve never met her, have you?’

‘No, but … there’s no rush. Give us a hand packing this away, will you. I’m gonna keep it.’

‘On your frizzy, slightly grey head be it.’

‘Get lost. I am not going grey.’

‘The mirror doesn’t lie…’

2 — By Royal Command

When Desi left me alone with the Mirror of the Damned, I couldn’t decide what to do. It was that awkward time of day – too early to go home legitimately, too late to start something new. Besides, I’m not used to proper lunches with wine. And I was overdressed. I was even thinking about going home for a nap (!) when the universe, in the shape of Hannah Rothman, made the decision for me, via text.

If you’ve finished with the Druid, come to the Old Temple.

What now?

At least it made me mind up. I’d go to the court and take the Mirror with me. After that, I could lug it up to Merlyn’s Tower for safe keeping. It also meant that the Boss couldn’t send me on a mission. I thumbed a reply and started to pack up. This is what I sent:

I’m on my way. There had better be some of Steph’s cake left.

There was cake. And tea in the garden. With Mina. She gave me a hug and cast a critical eye over my outfit. ‘You should wear dresses like that more often,’ was her verdict. ‘And I have boot envy. Or calf envy. Mine wouldn’t fill those and they’d look loose.’

‘How’s Uncle C?’

She sat down and patted the cushion next to her. ‘Good, if cranky. He has an MRI tomorrow morning, and they’ll let him out if his kidney is healing.’

‘Are you going…?’

She shook her head, and extra lines appeared in her frown. ‘I wish I could. I want to be with him. I should be with him, but not if it makes him unhappy, and neglecting my duty would make him very unhappy. The judge wants to sit tomorrow, so Cordelia will take him to Middlebarrow Haven and I’ll go up in the afternoon.’ She sighed. ‘And come back on Sunday. If he’s well enough for the long journey, Erin will take him to Clerkswell on Monday. I hope that next week will be my last in the witness box.’

Half way through Mina’s news, Hannah and Stephanie the baking bailiff had appeared with the trays of tea and cake. I pulled my coat a bit closer around me. It may be sheltered in the Old Temple garden, but it is November. We thanked Steph and she left us to it.

Hannah looked at Mina first. ‘And I also hope it’s your last week in the witness box. I’ve got plans for you.’ She grinned. ‘Don’t ask what they are yet. They can be a surprise.’ She turned to me. ‘Sorry to drag you out here, Vicky, but there’s going to be a situation at the end of next week.’

I was caught with a slice of tea loaf half way to me gob. To bite or not to bite? I put it down. Better safe than sorry. I didn’t say anything, though, because they could see it was written all over me face.

‘It’s complicated,’ said Mina, ‘and it has to do with Conrad’s birthday.’

I gave her a stare. ‘How does sending me Uncle Conrad a card get to be complicated, eh?’

Mina blinked, only it was a bit more than a blink. It was borderline fluttering her eyelashes.

Mina does have very nice eyelashes, I’ll grant you, and they set off her mid-brown eyes a treat, but they do nothing for me.

I folded my arms. ‘Hey! Youse two can’t gang up on me. You’re supposed to be me friend, Mina.’

Oops. As soon as the words were out of me mouth, I knew I’d put my foot in it. Hannah flinched back ever so slightly and blinked a blink that had nothing to do with fluttering her eyelashes.

I went to speak, but Mina got in first. ‘And because Hannah is also your friend, she wanted you to have time to think of a good excuse to get out of it.’

‘It must be bad, then.’

‘It is bad,’ said Hannah. ‘As each day passes, I regret more and more that I let Conrad Entangle his sister. I should have put my foot down.’

I groaned. ‘What’s she done now?’

‘Rachael isn’t the main problem. It’s what we’re going to do later that I need your help with.’

By the time they’d finished explaining, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. And no, I couldn’t come up with an excuse that wouldn’t have hurt Hannah, Mina and Conrad deeply.

When I got home (minus the Mirror of the Damned), Desi listened for two minutes before holding up her hand to stop me. ‘That new dress of yours should have bristles on the outside. Then everyone would know you’re a doormat.’

Charming. She’s probably right, but she could have spared me the pain. To make matters worse, Alain messaged to say that he’d scored a date with the junior counsel and wouldn’t be back until late. Or not at all. Hah.

Over the next nine days, I twisted and turned, and I still thought that what we were about to do was beyond daft, but I couldn’t find a way out of it. Seeing Maëlys Tangi again at St Pancras was almost a welcome distraction. Almost.

I took Alain with me to the station in case of language difficulties, and that meant explaining what the problem was with the mirrors. At Desi’s suggestion, I didn’t refer to my new toy as a Mirror of the Damned. Alain is quite a cool customer but even he has his limits. For once, he didn’t offer to help with the luggage, and so I wheeled two suitcases down the concourse. At least three people with latent magickal gifts turned to stare and had no idea why they were looking at the Geordie lass with the useless boyfriend.

Maëlys was wearing the same coat and boots as on Thursday, but she’d added a beautiful silk scarf in autumnal reds around her neck. Her outfit was now worth more than my car. We air kissed and I complimented her new accessory.

‘This? A little gift, that’s all.’ That’s all? She eyed the cases. ‘You have brought both the mirror and the masse d’arme? Pourquoi?’

‘About the mirror. It isn’t what you said in the message, is it?’

She looked at Alain and shrugged before saying, ‘When I told you, I had to translate from Breton to French, and he had to translate into English. Something must have been lost.’

Alain said nothing, though he did purse his lips a little.

I cleared my throat. ‘Mademoiselle Tangi, I think that Catoptromancy means the same in any language. You knew what it was.’

She waved away my concerns with a calfskin gloved hand. ‘Alain, qu'est-ce qui “encore plus rare”?’

‘Even more rare.’

‘Bon. This mirror is even more rare than a mirror of Catoptromancy. If you cannot handle it…?’

Damn. I knew she’d play that card, and there was no way out of it that wouldn’t make me look like a wimp. I gritted my teeth and got on with it. ‘I can handle the magick, but even you wouldn’t take an Artefact without asking about the provenance.’

She smiled by moving her lips into kissing position. She knew she’d be leaving with the mace. ‘You found the writing?’

‘I did.’

On the back of the frame, in tiny gold letters was the inscription: Fecerunt les soeurs Fauré. Made by the Fauré sisters. According to the Esoteric Library, they were a highly regarded French atelier d'artefacts. Even I could translate that. They disappeared during the 1890s in mysterious circumstances and none of their descendants have a very high profile.

Maëlys nodded and spoke rapidly to Alain.

‘The Faurés made the frame,’ he translated, ‘but of course the glass is much older. It is impossible to examine the rear of the glass without dismantling the frame, so no one knows where it came from or what are its secrets.’ He frowned. ‘She also said something about seeing the dead. What is this monstrosity, Victoria?’

I tried to copy Maëlys’s nonchalant wave. ‘A technical term. Thanks.’ I turned back to the Druidess. ‘Very well. I accept the exchange.’

‘Bon!’ She looked at the case with the mace. ‘May I?’

‘Go ahead.’

She unzipped it and took out the old towel I’d used to stop the bloody great mace from rattling around. She unwrapped the cloth and used her teeth to pull off her left glove before stroking the shiny flanges at the head. ‘You used this to kill Adaryn, didn’t you?’

That wasn’t the official version of events, but there was no point lying here, so I nodded.

‘Thank you, Victoria Robson.’

I wasn’t sure if she was thanking me for returning the mace or for killing Adaryn. Both, probably. Maëlys is good at her craft. Powerful, even. But not as powerful as Adaryn was, and even less so when Adaryn had that harp of hers. If Adaryn had married Maëlys’s nephew, Maëlys would not be the new High Druid. She held out her hand.

I shook. ‘You’re welcome, mademoiselle. Have a safe journey.’

‘Merci. A bientot.’

She shook hands with Alain and we went our separate ways. ‘I sincerely hope not,’ he muttered.

‘What?’

‘She said A bientot. It means See you soon. I hope we do not see her again for a very long time. Like never.’

‘You and me both, pet. I think we deserve tea and cake after that. And if you ask for coffee and croissants, you’re on your own.’

He laughed. ‘Scones. I have a strange craving for scones.’

That night, after the exchange at St Pancras, the Boss emailed me the instructions for the weekend, and I finally admitted defeat. I was going to Clerkswell and there was no way out of it.

And that wasn’t all - she also sent me to Wales to support Helen Davies in the inspection of teaching at an order of Druids in Pembrokeshire, and that meant I missed Mina’s final day in the witness box and the party afterwards. Don’t ask me any details about the case – all the legal ins and outs of reversionary possession and implied donative intent are even more incomprehensible to me than Maëlys Tangi’s French. I do understand a party, though, and the prevailing impression from a secret informer is that Mina had done enough in the witness box to keep occult lawyers in business for at least another year. Alright for some.

And so, on the Saturday afternoon, I set off for Clerkswell via Hampstead and the Thames Valley. There is absolutely nothing wrong with my driving, but I always find it hard to switch cars, and for this trip I’d had to hire a people carrier. You’ll find out why in a minute.

Alain joined me up front for the short trip to Hampstead, not that any trip is ever short in London. By the time we arrived, the street lights were already on and I couldn’t tell whether the clouds overhead looked like rain because it was dark. I found Ruth Kaplan’s house and reversed a short way up the drive to wait.

‘Veeeery nice,’ said Alain, eyeing up the house.

‘You’re not joking.’

Right on cue, five minutes after the official end of Shabbos, Hannah burst out of her twin sister’s front door and lugged her case down the steps. Alain slipped out to help her and she took his place in the front. Before we left, I couldn’t resist a comment. ‘What branch of law does Ruth’s husband specialise in? It must be lucrative.’

Hannah grunted. ‘Moshe scored the family home when his father died suddenly.’ A slam of the sliding door from Alain and we were ready. I gave him a second to fasten his belt and I drove off. Our next stop was to collect Francesca Somerton, Keeper of the Queen’s Esoteric Library, from her heart-breakingly quaint little cottage near the River Thames. We all have our roles to play in this weekend’s tableau, and I know mine; Francesca’s I’m not so sure about. It did rain, and I had to focus on the road ahead and on ignoring Hannah’s monologue about the evils of the countryside. It wasn’t the liveliest journey.

The mood lightened a little when we got nearer Clerkswell and saw the tower of St Michael’s church all lit up. Conrad, Mina and Myfanwy are great hosts, and we were all looking forward to that roaring fire in the drawing room even if not to what came after it.

We climbed out of the car and stretched before saluting the Dragon. Alain gave a quick nod and went to get the cases, but the Boss, Francesca and I ended up looking at each other. ‘Something’s changed,’ I said.

Elvenham House is all Victorian red brick, apart from the limestone carving of a dragon over the front door. It has magick right through it, and I thought I knew what that was. Wrong. Since I was last here, Conrad has connected his house to a source of Lux and Eseld Mowbray has added Wards around it. We all felt those, and a couple of them were woven through the dragon stone. But it was different in other ways, too.

‘Francesca?’ said Hannah. ‘Any clue?’

‘I’m afraid not. It’s like something that was hidden in plain sight is no longer there.’

Underneath the dragon, the great front doors opened and Mina stood ready to welcome us. ‘Get in here out of the rain,’ she said. I didn’t need telling twice, and I grabbed a case.

When we were inside, Mina took Hannah and I by the hand. It’s a measure of how much the Boss has changed over the last year that she didn’t flinch. ‘I know you want to get changed and eat, but he asked me to show you into the library first. Come on.’

We left Alain to sort the luggage and look after Francesca while Hannah and I followed Mina across the hall. When the house was built, James Clarke stuffed the library full of all the books a gentleman was expected to own. Since then, the valuable ones have been sold and much of the current contents was bought by the yard by Conrad’s father to provide a suitable backdrop. The current Clarke in residence was seated behind the desk, and we stopped in our tracks.

‘Oy vey, Conrad,’ said Hannah. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I feel better than I look,’ he said. ‘Not that I feel very good.’ Mina left us, closing the doors behind her, and I took a tentative step forward.

He stood up and managed a smile. He was leaning to the right, away from the stab wound, and what with his bad leg, he looked like a bad actor in a cheap horror film. I was going to move until Hannah beat me to it, going over and giving him a quick hug. She turned away and I’d swear she was blinking away tears. Conrad sensed it, too, and opened his arms for me to take Hannah’s place.

‘It’s good to see you both,’ he said, ‘and I wanted you to see me first before joining the others. It really isn’t as bad as it looks. I just have to be careful, and I get tired in the evening. I’ll see you for the show.’

‘Do we have to?’ I said.

‘Yes. Now suck it up and go eat.’

Suddenly, something struck me. Conrad has three characteristic smells most of the time: tobacco, Old House and Wet Dog. One of them was missing.

‘Where’s Scout?’

His eyes flicked away in a combination of guilt and pain. ‘With the pack in Northumberland. They sort of adopted him, and I’m in no fit state to look after him at the moment.’

I gave his arm a squeeze. ‘It’s for the best. For now.’

Even without a mad border collie, it was a full house tonight – the usual suspects were all there, with the added bonus of Chris and Tamsin Kelly, also known as the Earthmaster and the Bodysnatcher respectively. On the way out of the library, I tried to sound casual when I said, ‘Is Cordelia here?’

‘What? No,’ said Conrad. ‘She’s going to be holding the fort in Cheshire for two weeks, so Rick’s let her have the kids over the weekend.’

Damn. So I wouldn’t be able to ask her about the mirror. Never mind. No rush.

Hannah and I climbed the stairs, and she said, ‘Never did I think that I would have to have country house casual in my wardrobe. It’s not as though I can get away with jeans, is it?’

I treated that as a rhetorical question. What? Did you seriously think I was going to comment on the suitability of my commanding officer’s hips for stretch denim?

Of the ten who gathered for “supper” in the kitchen (yes, they really do call it that), everyone had dressed down except one: Tamsin Kelly. She was wearing a short black dress that only she has the figure for; she may be forty-something inside, but she does have the body of a nineteen year old. For the record, Hannah wore a maxi dress over a roll-neck sweater, and yes, it did look odd.

I saved my fondest greeting for Myfanwy. We had a big hug, and she said, ‘Go on. I know you want to, and I’ll let you. Just this once.’ And with that, she lifted her long top, much to the embarrassment of her fiancé.

Her bump is just starting to show, and I rested my hand over it, letting my Sight go through the complex, shifting webs of Myfanwy’s Imprint to the twin pulses of light hiding inside it. It’s part of my Gift that I can see that; very few Mages can. At this stage, there’s not a lot you can tell unless you make it a lifetime’s study. No thanks.

‘They’re doing great,’ I said, and as far as I could tell, they were.

‘Can you see the sex?’

‘Yes…’

‘Don’t tell me. I want a surprise.’ She paused. ‘Can you tell if they’re identical?’

‘Wouldn’t that spoil the surprise?’ said Ben.

‘I didn’t think of that,’ said Myfanwy.

Mina thrust a glass of wine into my hand. ‘You’ve got some catching up to do, Vicky.’

Taking the glass of wine made me think of another reason it was less manic in here than you might expect: no Erin Slater. I turned back to Myfanwy. ‘Are you missing her?’

She didn’t need me to explain. ‘Course I am, but she seems a lot happier up there. I don’t miss her making a mess everywhere and never getting the right thing from the supermarket, but I miss having another Mage in the house. Saffron’s here a lot, which is great, but…’ She smiled bravely at Ben. ‘It’ll be different when Burger and Chips come along.’

‘Burger…?’

She patted the bump. ‘You know I’m doing shifts in the shop during the week now I can’t do gardens ’cos of the weather? Well I announced to one of the old dears who’s a bit deaf that I was craving burger and chips. I forgot that the school bus had just dropped off, didn’t I? One of those weird girls from Holly Cottage heard me. By next morning, I had the school mums asking when Burger and Chips were due.’

I felt guilty slurping a big glass of Prosecco with Myfanwy on Elderflower cordial. I felt guilty for all of ten seconds and went to grab another glass. To show willing, I asked Tammy how her studies with the Fae were coming along, and then the food appeared, and I was trapped next to her. I know that Mina has a soft spot for Tamsin, but I find her hard work to be honest, and not just because of what she did. Basically, anyone who could have stayed married to Chris Kelly for twenty years must either be a saint or be as boring as he is, and we know that Tamsin isn’t a saint.

‘Are you looking forward to the show tonight?’ I said, desperately trying to change the subject.

‘Oh yes,’ she enthused, ‘even though it’s just the appetiser. The Full Monty is next week, and that’s what I’m really looking forward to.’

‘Eh?’

She realised she’d said something out of turn and changed the subject. There were thirteen people in the house altogether, but only ten for supper. Somewhere upstairs getting changed or busy re-arranging the drawing room were Conrad’s sisters, Rachael and Sofía, plus his friend Eseld Mowbray.

I use the word ‘friend’ advisedly. Conrad and Eseld are closer than I’d want another woman to be to my fiancé, but Mina seems happy with the situation. I might ask her again about it later, especially now that Eseld’s reinvented herself as a tutor at Salomon’s House instead of a rich party girl. Or maybe I’m just jealous of the life she leads– I’ve only met her a couple of times in passing, and I shouldn’t judge her purely on her reputation. I shouldn’t, but it’s hard not to.

Mina and Ben were busy making coffee when Mina got a message. ‘They’ve finished getting ready,’ she said. ‘We can leave the kitchen now, though obviously the drawing room and library are out of bounds. If we could all be in the hall in twenty minutes?’

Conrad and Alain went to take their coffee outside for a smoke, and Conrad picked up a walking stick. He really is in a bad way. I slurped my coffee and shooed Myfanwy out of the way so that I could help clear up.

When we gathered in the big square hall, there was one obvious difference: a big pair of speakers either side of the drawing room doors. Less obvious was the subtle shift in magick. I sidled up to Francesca and whispered, ‘What’s happened? I’m seeing blue, not red.’

‘It’s Eseld. The entertainment only works if a second Mage acts as Hostess. Mina and Conrad can’t do it, so Eseld has adapted her Wards to mimic the flow of Lux at Predannack, her place in Cornwall. Goodness knows what they’ll do next week.’

‘What is it about next week?’ I hissed.

‘Didn’t Hannah tell you?’

‘No, she flippin’ well didn’t!’

‘Never mind. I think I can feel something building.’

She was right and I was annoyed. Some Work of magick was spreading out from the firmly closed drawing room doors, and everyone went quiet. And then the bell rang.

3 – Warm-up

Elvenham House doesn’t just have a big hall and big front doors; it also has a great big bell that clangs like the crack of doom. Ringing the bell from inside the drawing room is a neat trick on its own, and several nervous faces glanced towards the front doors, including mine. It would be just my luck for a supernatural visitor to choose this moment to arrive, like Pramiti the snake-woman once did.

With the audience on edge, they took it up another notch by turning out the lights and using a Glamour to make the drawing room doors glow bright blue.

Classical music started to play from the speakers, graceful and measured, and then the drawing room doors opened on a waft of magick. Standing just inside the room was Madeleine, the spirit who used to haunt Conrad’s dowsing rod. WTF?

Thankfully, no one could see me gawping as the Glamour of Maddy softened to reveal Eseld Mowbray’s features – but still dressed in Maddy’s clothes. Double WTF. Around me, silence had given way to hoots and exclamations. Eseld winked at Conrad and smiled.

‘Welcome. Please make this house your home,’ she said, offering Conrad a gloved hand. The shiny, long white gloves were only the start. She was wearing a silk evening gown in Mowbray blue, an intense light blue, and she’d added extensions so that she could pin up her hair. The dress might be a modern reproduction, but otherwise it looked original Edwardian to me – all ornamentation and lots of detail. I think. I’m not an expert on historical fashions. There was bling, too, around her neck and wrists, and dangling from her ears.

Eseld looked radiant in her outfit, and a little part of me couldn’t help notice that she wasn’t showing much chest – because the gown had been designed to cover her shoulders. Eseld has big shoulders. All that horse riding, no doubt.

When Conrad saw how clean her gloves were, he wiped his hand surreptitiously on his trousers before he shook it. Eseld curtsied and lowered her voice. I think she may have used a Silence, because I didn’t catch what she said to him.

He stood aside and she swept into the hall to greet the other guests. I say swept, because no other verb does justice to the way she moved in that dress, and it wasn’t just the outfit: her back was straighter, her shoulders poised and her hips swaying. I glanced at Mina, and she was giving Eseld an amused smile. Everyone shook her hand except Chris Kelly, who took it gently and bent down to kiss her fingers, earning him a chorus of Woo hoos from the audience.

I was last, and I wondered if there’d be a tingle of Lux with the handshake. Something subtle to predispose us to believe what we were seeing. I shook hands, and there was nothing except a firm grip inside the glove. ‘So glad you could come, Miss Robson.’

The sentiment may have been aristocratic, but she couldn’t disguise the Cornish accent, and I think she knew it, too, because she followed straight up with, ‘And if you put a large gin by the chair at the back wall, I’ll be your friend for life.’ She breathed in. ‘Right. Showtime.’

She led us into the drawing room. A console table had been placed near the door and all the chairs moved to face it. Candles had been added. Lots of candles — on the fireplace, on the console table and on stands in each corner.

Conrad made a beeline for a high backed chair that would give him some support, and while everyone else pointed and gestured, Mina grabbed me. She dragged me to the big sideboard to get drinks. ‘You can take the girl out of fancy dress, but you can’t take the fancy dress out of the girl,’ she said. ‘If you see what I mean.’

‘Did you have any idea about this?’

She shook her head. ‘And now I am dreading what her and Rachael have made poor Sofía do.’

‘You and me both.’

We served the drinks (including a large gin by Eseld’s chair) and sat down. The lady herself took centre stage, swishing the dress into position and smiling. ‘You may be wondering why I’m dressed like this. I certainly am, because it wasn’t my choice.’

‘I’ll bet you didn’t need much persuading,’ said Chris. He’d drunk more than any of the men earlier, perhaps because he didn’t often get a child-free night.

‘No I didn’t need much persuading, but it still wasn’t my idea. Rachael will explain later. Before we start, I do have one small announcement. Sofía asked me to tell you this, because she didn’t want to have to explain it to Conrad.’

All eyes turned to Uncle C. ‘What?’ he said, twisting in his invalid chair.

‘Don’t worry, Conrad. I think it’s good news. After this year, if she passes her Junior Fellowship, Sofía is going to specialise as an Alchemical Apothecary. For those of you who don’t know, it’s more than it sounds. Sofía can isolate magick, and that’s a rare skill. Apothecaries are the ones who prepare Alchemical Compounds. They are the ones who supply Artificers.’

Chris led everyone in a round of applause at that point, and I’m sure I heard Hannah say, ‘Good for her.’

I joined in enthusiastically, and Conrad had a question. ‘Why has this only come to light now?’

‘That’s a question she’s best placed to answer herself.’ She smiled, and straightened up again, having slouched a bit for her announcement. ‘It’s such a shame the complete show isn’t ready for tonight, so all you’re going to get is the introduction.’ She turned to the open doors into the hallway. ‘Ready?’ From the darkness, Rachael shouted that they were.

Eseld turned back and spoke up. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, honoured guests, it gives me great pleasure to introduce tonight’s Fête du Feu, the Fire Games. For the first time on any stage, give a big welcome to a new name in illusion and deception, assisted by the sublime Rachael Clarke, I give you Sofía, La Hitana de San Vicente!’

Eseld snapped her fingers, and all the candles dimmed to nothing, leaving only the log fire to light the room. From the hall, music started: the March of the Toreadors. There was an extra sound, staccato and echoing off the tiles. Tap shoes. With a flourish and lots more swishing, Sofía paraded into the room, and Eseld restored the candles, making them burn even brighter with added Lux.

Sofía had gone full flamenco for this – her dress was bright red, flounced and long, with a black shawl covering her arms and held together with a brooch over her chest. It was spectacular but modest.

She took a place in the centre of the virtual stage and hitched up her skirt to give a few seconds of tap, then she stamped into a pose and the music stopped. Cue wild applause.

I hate amateur dramatics, and I am not keen on costume parties, but this was something different. As soon as it became known that Sofía was going to use her skills to create a Fête du Feu, I couldn’t wait to see it, and at the same time I was desperate not to get dragged in. I’ve been to an amateur Fête once, more for drunken laughs than anything else, but this was different. This was intended to be professional, a source of income and a showcase for Sofía’s talents. So far, they’d nailed the drama, now could she do the same with the magick?

The confident Sofía who had just made that entrance nearly evaporated when she tried to speak. She coughed and caught herself, then took a deep breath and started properly. ‘Thank you and good evening. My name is Sofía, and tonight I present a Fiesta de Fuego for you. But first I need the help. An assistant.’ She looked around theatrically. ‘Where have they gone?’ She swayed into the audience and stopped in front of Hannah. ‘Señora, have you seen my assistant? No?’ She moved on, stepping over Tamsin’s legs to get to Myfanwy. ‘Señorita? I think you know!’ She turned around. ‘I think she is hiding my assistant.’ Before we could let off a reply, Sofía pivoted on her heel, bent down, and her shawl flared like wings on her shoulders. She continued the pivot and stepped back. ‘There you are!’ exclaimed Sofía.

We looked down, then up at her, and she was cradling Pedro the rabbit in her arms. Pedro is a big rabbit. Where on earth…? More applause. I relaxed slightly when I heard Myfanwy say, ‘Where did he come from? How did she do that, Ben?’ If Myfanwy had been fooled at such close range, Sofía was on to a good thing.

There was Lux flowing around the room like smoke from a blocked chimney, and when Sofía had twirled her shawl, I’d felt the eddies of power. I had no idea what she’d done from this distance, but the whole point of the Fire Games is to leave the audience wondering what’s magick and what’s sleight of hand. Either way it was good, and if it was sleight of hand, how on earth had she hidden the rabbit?

She took a step forward, deposited Pedro in Myfanwy’s lap and stepped back. ‘Look after him. He’s a good rabbit, but sometimes he disappears.’ She moved around the room and stood, well lit by candles, in front of Eseld, who’d taken up the hostess’s station at one end of the room. ‘Pedro is a good assistant,’ she continued, ‘but I also need human help. Life always gives us surprises, and when I found that I had an older brother, no one was more surprised than me. You all know him of course, but you perhaps don’t know my sister. Please welcome to your homes my big sister, Rachael Clarke.’

I knew the speech was designed for other audiences, but it still felt odd. We started clapping and Sofía danced aside. Eseld’s chair was against the back wall, and as far as I know, Conrad’s house has no secret passages. Where Eseld had been sitting only seconds ago now sat Rachael. The applause ratcheted up a notch as Rachael stood up to bow. Sofía’s outfit was modest; Rachael’s was anything but.

She’d opted for the full circus look, with a frock coat, sparkly red waistcoat and fishnets. She took a bow, sweeping off her top hat and milking the applause. As you might expect, the male members of the audience clapped loudest (except Conrad). When she straightened up, she went to put her top hat back on and made a face of mock surprise. ‘Sofía! There’s something in here.’

Sofía took the hat and looked inside. She turned round, giving her hips a good swing, and looked at Myfanwy. ‘I thought you were taking care of Pedro.’

She handed the top hat to a mystified Myfanwy just as Pedro poked his pink nose over the top. The three girls lined up and took a bow while the applause for the rabbit/hat trick was still going on, and it was Rachael who stepped forward to speak next.

‘I’m really sorry that we’re not ready to give you the full show. Sofía wants to get it right before we have a full run, but we thought that you’d like to see the start — and the special package we’re doing. I have Mina to thank for the inspiration.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes. We saw how people lapped up the costumes at the Bollywood party, and Mina told me how much she enjoyed her Downton Abbey ride on the train for her birthday, so when we launch the show, we’re going to do it as a themed evening — Edwardian glamour.’

There were murmurs of interest as Eseld stepped forward and did another curtsy, and it was her turn to pull a rabbit from a hat – metaphorically speaking. She put her hands behind her back and produced three envelopes, about the size of a birthday card. She gave us a smile and held them up.

‘And I’m thrilled to announce that we have our first booking. Next weekend, Sofía will be pitting her wits against the combined talents of the Hawkins family at Cherwell Roost.’

Blimey. What a way to start – risky but potentially lucrative. The Hawkins family are close to the top of the tree in English magick, and if they give Sofía a seal of approval, I’m sure she’ll get plenty more bookings. Either Conrad’s little sister is made of sterner stuff than I thought or his big sister and her friend had bullied her into it. I’ll reserve judgement on that one.

I was just running those thoughts round in my head when Eseld waved the envelopes. ‘Some of you lucky people will get to see the show. And make sure we get five star reviews, of course. I wonder who that could be?’

‘I wish I could go,’ said Myfanwy wistfully. ‘It’s supposed to be lovely there.’ She whipped her head round to poor old Ben. ‘If one of those envelopes has your name on it, you are not going. Are we clear on that?’

He deadpanned her. ‘Why would my name be there, hwyaid bach?’

‘Sorry, Ben,’ said Eseld. ‘Not this time. The first invitation goes to … the Kellys.’

She swished over to Tammy and handed her an envelope. Chris bent down to kiss his wife on the head and put his arm round her shoulder, while Tammy sat there staring at it with a stupid grin on her face. How the hell had this come about? I know that Hannah was here with them a couple of weeks ago, but that was strictly private, as is tonight.

Going to Cherwell Roost would be a massive step for Tamsin in her re-entry to the social world of magick. Since her transmigration, every door has been slammed in her face, and those who invited Chris on his own were treated to a rude response. It must be a very lonely life.

And then the light was blocked out by a vision in blue. Eseld was holding an envelope in my direction. ‘And you, Vicky. We’ll need a couple of friendly faces.’

Every fight or flight reflex was instantly triggered. I haven’t felt like this since Adaryn came at me with blazing fingers in France. If I’d still had the Tangi mace, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have swung it at Eseld’s head.

Instead, I blushed, shrank into a ball and stammered out a lame excuse. ‘Erm … I’m not sure I’m free on Saturday.’

Conrad coughed. Loud enough to make me look at him, and what I saw chilled me as much as Eseld’s invitation had made me boil up. Please, he mouthed at me.

What? Et tu, Conrad? Bastard.

Eseld hadn’t flinched, nor had the smile faded.

I gave it one last go. ‘Sorry an’ all, but I don’t have any antique frocks. Perhaps you could go, ma’am?’

Hannah gave me an evil grin. She knew. She knew about this and hadn’t told me. I am so gonna resign later. And break into her flat and sew kippers into her curtain linings. She made sure I’d got the message, then said, ‘Go to a gaming party on Shabbos? I don’t think so. Saffron will look after you, Vicky. I made it a direct order.’

And it was quite clear that my own attendance was as close to a direct order as makes no difference. I took the envelope with less enthusiasm than I’d have accepted a posting to the Antarctic.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Eseld. ‘You’ll have another friend, too.’ With another grin, she pirouetted round and offered the final envelope to Alain.

‘Moi?’

It suddenly clicked: I was looking in the wrong place for an explanation.

Born Mages tend to see magick as the driving force in everything. Even the social world of magick has a meritocratic base to it, but I was forgetting the power of cold, hard mundane cash. As well as being part of the magickal aristocracy, the Hawkinses are stonkingly rich. And rich people need clever people like Rachael Clarke to manage their money. This gig at Cherwell Roost had Rachael’s sticky fingerprints all over it. No wonder the Boss was worried about Conrad’s older sister overstepping the mark, and Conrad was no doubt worried about his younger sister being collateral damage.

Mina broke the spell by getting up to give Sofía a big hug. Eseld started to reconfigure the house magick and douse the candles, and everyone else got up to mingle. I made straight for Conrad, who had stayed in his chair.

‘Not now, Vic,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll see you in the kitchen at eight o’clock tomorrow.’

‘I’m not gonna wait all day … hang on. You cannot mean eight o’clock in the morning, can you? You do know it’s Sunday tomorrow.’

‘It’s also my birthday, and you all have to do what I say. If I want to go for a long walk with my adopted niece, I will.’

‘No outdoor gear. I’ve come for a civilised weekend.’

‘Borrow Rachael’s. Or Sofía’s. And walking in the English countryside is about as civilised as you can get.’ He held out his hand. ‘Give us a pull, will you?’

I braced my back and helped haul him out of the chair. ‘Are you fit to walk anywhere?’

‘I’ll do.’

Sofía separated herself from a group of well-wishers and came over. ‘How did I do, Vittoria?’

Poor bairn. It must have been nerve-wracking out there. I gave her a hug. ‘You were brilliant, pet. How the hell did you get Rachael and Eseld to swap places like that? Was Rachael even in the room?’

She beamed. ‘Thank you. I will not explain, because then you will be disappointed, but thank you.’

‘Aren’t you going to ask me?’ said Conrad.

‘No. You are not a Sorcerer and your job is to be nice.’

He shook his head and limped off. As he passed Sofía, he patted her on the shoulder. ‘At least you didn’t ask me to shoot anyone who booed. That’s what Rachael would have done.’

She laughed. ‘Is a possibility.’

‘I’m loving the outfit,’ I told her. ‘And what was your stage name? Hitana?’

‘It has a “G” – La Gitana means The Gypsy, and flamenco comes from Gypsy culture.’ She looked around the room at the baronial fittings. ‘I am only half a Clarke. If that. Mamá is from a family of real Gypsies.’

‘Hey! So’s mine, if you go back a bit. We could be related.’ A thought struck me. ‘Do you mind me being there next week? I’m guessing that it wasn’t your idea.’

She shook her head and looked around, this time ignoring the baronial features and checking that the baron himself wasn’t listening. She needn’t have bothered – his hearing has got worse lately. She lowered her voice anyway. ‘I wanted Conrad and Mina to be there, of course, but they are going to San Vicente to see Papá and Mary.’

That was a surprise. No wonder I’d been drafted in as a substitute. ‘That’s news to me, Sofía.’

She turned round. ‘I have done this hair too tight. Can you loosen it?’

I started fiddling with the fastenings of her bun. It was a bit tight, but not enough to disguise the fact that she’d ignored my question. ‘Is Conrad well enough to travel?’

‘Si. I think he wants to escape the cold and swim in Papá’s pool.’

Fair enough. I haven’t been, but my parents have. They said it’s lovely. A bit out of the way, but lovely.

‘Gracias, Vittoria. I must get changed because it is raining.’

Eseld had already disappeared. Unlike her partners, Rachael doesn’t smoke, so she was still in costume and talking to Ben and Myfanwy (in case you’d forgotten, Ben’s sister, Carole, is Rachael’s BFF from university). Poor Ben didn’t know where to look at such close range to Rachael’s outfit. Conrad was talking to the Kellys and Mina to the Boss, so I went over to Francesca.

‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘I’d prefer your company. Can I be greedy and ask for both?’

Until Conrad came into my life, I’d never have dreamt that the Keeper of the Esoteric Library would want me to join her. I’m still not sure that’s a good thing. I topped up our glasses and sat down.

‘I’m glad I was sitting side on to you,’ she said.

‘How come?’

‘Then you couldn’t see me giggling at your face when Doctor Mowbray gave you that envelope. It was an absolute picture.’

‘Aye, well, there’s no need to rub it in. I was totally mortified. I haven’t been so embarrassed since I blew up the hat stand at Merlyn’s Tower in front of the whole staff. Please tell me you weren’t in on it as well. Everyone else seems to have been.’

She shook her head. ‘What Doctor Mowbray and her pupils get up to is none of my business.’

That was the second time she’d used Eseld’s title rather than her name. I thought the first one was ironic. Clearly not. ‘Is it her you don’t like or all of the Mowbrays?’

‘Forgive me. I shouldn’t let Salomon’s House politics encroach on a social occasion.’

‘Oh aye?’

‘Eseld wouldn’t get away with half of what she does if she weren’t a Mowbray, a fact that seems to escape her. I can tell you’re not a fan.’

‘She caught me off guard is all. I honestly don’t know her well enough to judge. The first and last time I met her was at the Bollywood party.’ I shrugged. ‘Anyway, what are you doing here?’

She laughed. ‘I asked for that, I suppose. It’s simple: Conrad asked me to come as a personal favour. When he threw in transport – thank you for that, dear – as well as entertainment and hospitality, how could I say no? What did you think of young Miss Clarke’s performance?’

This time I let her change the subject. If Conrad had his reasons, I’d get them out of him. ‘She had me fooled completely. How did she swap Eseld and Rachael round?’

Francesca had something of a reputation back in the day, and it doesn’t take much to bring the twinkle back into her eye. ‘Didn’t you wonder why there were candles either side of that window? Rachael was hiding behind the curtains. I’m surprised she didn’t turn blue while she was waiting: these old windows are very draughty. While we were all watching Sofía’s grand entrance – which I thought was spectacular, by the way – Rachael emerged. Simple but effective. What got me was the rabbit. Does she have two of them, by any chance?’

‘Now that I do know. Mina’s been staying chez Clarke in Notting Hill while she was giving evidence at the Cloister Court, and there is only one rabbit living there. She’s moaned about it often enough.’

I could see Chris Kelly hovering, and it wasn’t me he wanted to talk to, so I left Francesca to it and claimed a spot next to Myfanwy on the comfiest sofa. The one near the fire. I didn’t move after that, mainly because Ben kept our drinks topped up.

‘Right you,’ said Myfanwy. ‘Now you’ve had a drink, you can tell me the truth about Barney Smith.’

‘I only met him a couple of times, and one of those was in the dark when I had a broken foot.’

‘Pwfft. Don’t let that get in the way of a good story, Vicky.’

I reflected for a moment, thinking back to the marina on the edge of Windermere on the night I first took another life. ‘I had to lean on him. He’s got really muscly shoulders. Strong.’

‘Now you’re talking…’

In no time I’d completely forgotten about the stiff envelope stuffed into me back pocket. The only downer came when Conrad limped over to say goodnight, way earlier than anyone else. He looked done in, but he had one last go at sticking the knife in.

‘And you’re still okay with taking Vicky a cup of tea at half past seven, Myfanwy?’

‘No problem, Conrad. See you tomorrow.’

‘Hey! Traitor. You’re supposed to be me friend.’

‘Which is why I’ll put some toast on as well. Carry on, Vicky…’

4 – Happy Birthday. Not.

‘Ugh. Go away, Myfanwy. I hate you.’

‘No you don’t. You love me really.’

‘No, I hate you because you look like you’ve been up for hours.’

‘That’s because I didn’t drink a bottle of Rioja followed by brandy. I’ll give you ten minutes before I put the toast on.’

At least I had my own room. Of sorts. It was right at the top of the house and used to be the servants’ quarters. Sounds about right for me. I wonder what the Victorian maids would have thought of the tiny shower room and toilet you had to turn half-right to use. Better than a chamber pot, I suppose. They’d have been less impressed that their descendant (me) was still in the servant’s quarters while their master’s descendant (Conrad) was still lord of all he surveyed.

Conrad has said on many occasions that he’s “just a tradesman.” Who knows? Maybe he actually believes it.

I took a long slurp of tea and felt a little better. More inclined to give the birthday boy the benefit of the doubt. He is me adopted uncle after all.

Right, swing back the covers and here we go. I’ll grab a shower later.

Downstairs. In the kitchen.

‘Here’s your toast. I’ve put something new on it. And more tea.’

I stared suspiciously at the red spread on my breakfast. Myfanwy has been known to put herbalist concoctions in her cooking. ‘What is it?’

‘Try it and see.’

I sniffed. Raspberry and something else. ‘Mmm. This is gorgeous. Did you make it?’

‘No chance. Mina brought it back from the Lakes. It’s vanilla and raspberry jam from the Hawkshead Relish people. They serve it at the Lodge. Apparently.’ She looked at me while I munched. ‘You do know it’s cold and wet out there?’

‘Aye, I do. He didn’t include a route march in the movement orders.’

She lifted herself off the Aga. ‘I thought you’d have worked that out by now. Hang on.’

I finished the toast, slurped the tea and checked the clock. One minute to eight. From down the passage, I heard the uneven beat of Conrad’s early morning limp. He stood aside to let Myfanwy get past with an armful of coats and shoes, and so it was that we left the back door of Elvenham House with the spirit of Scout very much with us. The only coat that would both fit me and keep me dry was Erin’s discarded puffer jacket, and yes, it smelt of wet dog.

‘Happy Birthday, Conrad.’ I took a good look at him as we set off. ‘A good night’s sleep has done you the world of good. You look tons better this morning.’

He gave me that sideways grin. ‘I’ll let you into a secret: I was faking it a bit last night. It was easier to pretend to be worse than I am than to rush around. And don’t worry, Mina knows all about it.’

I shoved my hands in the coat pocket. ‘Eurgh. Soggy dog biscuit. No wonder she left this coat behind.’ I bent to wipe my hands on the grass. ‘Now that was a turn-up. Who’d have thought Erin would have upped sticks and moved to Westmorland?’

‘She had her reasons.’

‘And you’re not gonna talk about them, are you?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m sure she will when you see her.’

‘And is she really going out with Barney Smith?’

‘Yes. You missed your chance there.’

I took a swing and connected with his good leg. ‘That’s for being the worst match-maker ever.’

‘Oww! Shit, Vicky. I thought you’d stopped doing that or I’d have been better prepared. You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve handed over match-making duties to Mina.’

‘Oh aye?’

‘Yes. She’ll let you know when she’s found someone for you.’

I stopped and gaped at him. ‘You sound way too serious.’

He shrugged. ‘Come on, we’ll go the long way round to the ridge and come down through the woods.’

I took a moment to think about it, but me brain wouldn’t accept it. I had to run to catch up with him.

We had a lot of catching up to do, and did it on the climb up the slippery, wet path to the ridge above Clerkswell. On a day like this, we could barely see the church never mind Wales. I like the countryside. On a nice day. I guess that what makes me a city girl and Conrad a true countryman: he looked at peace and settled, even on a grey miserable day like this. He also looked tired and a little strained but at least he hadn’t collapsed on me. He felt in the pockets of his coat and I moved upwind.

‘Are you gonna tell me what’s really going on now?’ I asked. I said it gently because it had been on the agenda since he’d ordered me to be here, and if he wanted to take his time, that’s fine. I do the same to him when I’ve got something difficult to say.

‘I am so sorry to have landed you in this, Vic. I really am. It’s Rachael’s fault.’

‘Oh aye?’

‘You didn’t really think I’d tittle off to Spain and dump this in your lap if I had a choice, do you?’

‘I’m guessing that the alternative is gonna be worse.’

‘Your call. Do you know what next weekend is? Apart from Sofía’s debut at Cherwell Roost?’

‘Erm, no?’

‘It’s Diwali.’

‘Oh my god! Really? Why haven’t I heard anything?’

‘It all blew up while I was in hospital in Preston, and Mina didn’t want to bother me with it. I knew there was something wrong when she came to see me on Remembrance Day, but I thought she was worried about my latest near-death experience.’

‘Of course she’s flippin’ well worried.’

He snorted. ‘Not in the way you think. She really does believe that our souls are destined to be together through eternity, and if I get blown up or eaten by wolves, it’s only a blip.’

I’m used to Desirée’s beliefs having an impact on her behaviour, but for Mina to think that… ‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously. Anyway, Mum and Dad had booked tickets to come to Clerkswell for a family celebration of Diwali. We did Samhain for Myfanwy, and Myfanwy wanted to do Diwali for Mina, and she wanted Mum and Dad to share it. It was a big thing for her to invite them and for them to not only accept but make plans.’

He sighed. ‘And then Rachael goes and books a gig with the Hawkins clan. Mother went absolutely ballistic. Mina was distraught, and for once, Mother put her foot down. She’s summoned us to Spain and booked us all into one of the Indian restaurants in Valencia. She even rang them all to see which ones are run by Hindus.’

‘Wow. No wonder Rachael was avoiding you, me and Mina last night.’

‘Quite. Mother made Rachael swear not to say anything to Sofía, which is quite something, and that’s the real reason I was faking it last night. I need to look ill enough for convalescence in Spain to be a reasonable excuse.’

He stowed his butt away and we set off down the path through the woods above Elvenham. I’ve never had a straight answer from him about whether he owns them or not.

‘I’m still not happy,’ I grumbled. ‘I can understand why I’ve got to go to the Roost now, but I’m still not happy.’

He held out a hand to steady me on a slippy bit. ‘I thought dressing up was your thing, based on what you were doing when I ambushed you at Club Justine.’

I went red and shook off his hand. Big mistake – I went arse over tit. ‘Oof.’

A muddy path in the middle of a wet wood was not the place to have this conversation, but it never is the right place, is it?

‘When you saw us wearing our Glamours and out on the pull, that wasn’t me. That was someone else. This is different. This is me going to the house of Lady Hawkins all dressed up like an extra from TV and having to be meself. These are some of the biggest Mages in England we’re talking about, if they all turn up, and I left the Invisible College as soon as I could.’ I looked up at him, all six foot four of him and couldn’t stop it coming out. ‘I don’t have your self-confidence, Conrad. You had a great time at boarding school, and you’ve never looked back. Apart from the magick lessons, I hated every flipping second I was there. Hated it. This is just more of the same.’

He looked hurt. I’ve no idea why. He held out his hand to heave me up, and held on to it down the steepest bit of the slope. When he let go, he leaned against a tree. ‘Don’t be yourself, then.’

‘Who the hell else am I gonna be, eh?’

‘Captain Victoria Robson MC. A decorated officer in the Queen’s service. A woman who died to save the likes of the Hawkins family. You earned your place at the table. Don’t forget that. You could even go in drag – wear a male dress uniform of the period. It’s what I’d do.’

‘I …’

I was about to tell him not to be so daft, when I realised he was right. I reached up to give him a kiss. ‘Thanks, Uncle Conrad, that’s a bloody good idea. I’m still not happy, though.’

‘I know. I’ll owe you big time for this.’

‘Aye well. Best not keep score, eh?’

‘And that’s not all.’

I was passing a silver birch and used it as a post to beat my head against. When I’d got green slime on my hair, I stopped. ‘What now?’

‘Nothing to do with you. Yet. It’s about what really happened in Lakeland. Who do you think’s missing from the house party?’

I wiped my face. ‘Dunno.’

‘Kenver Mowbray. He’s got a bit of a crush on Sofía.’

‘He’s not the only one, but I think you scared off Alain and Xavier Metcalfe. Has Kenver done anything about it?’

‘She’s turned him down once for a date already, but she wouldn’t refuse him a seat at the table.’

‘Because Rachael would never forgive her? Kenver’s the seriously rich Mowbray, isn’t he?’

‘He will be. Right now, it’s all in Ethan’s hands as the legal guardian. No, the reason Kenver’s not here is that he’s in Pellacombe with Morwenna.’

‘Mor.. Oh. The one who turned up and disappeared.’

‘That’s right. And then she reappeared in a stable yard, passing herself off as Lara Dent. She was the unnamed Vessel in the reports.’

‘Wow. And no one spotted that when she was in Cornwall with you? Not Saffron, not Eseld, not Kenver or Ethan? None of the Daughters?’

We’d reached the well, and he sat down on the lip. Despite the mould on the stones, I joined him.

‘That’s why Francesca’s here. She’s staying over tonight to give me some tutorials on Imprints, identity and possession. I’d have asked you, but she’s got a lot more experience.’

‘Fair enough. I suppose if I’d stayed at Salomon’s House, I’d be on me way to being an expert.’

He gave me a sad smile. ‘And we’d never have met. You wouldn’t have died, had a broken foot or a punctured lung. And I’d be dead.’

‘You make it sound so tempting. Tell me, does this afternoon’s business have anything to do with it?’

‘No. Coincidence.’

When the Boss had told me to come this weekend, it had nothing to do with Fire Games or Clarke family politics. I’ll explain why later. Right now, I was focused on the text I’d just received from Mina:

I’ve run you a bath in our en-suite. You deserve it.

I showed him the text. ‘Do you think she can find me a bloke who does that?’

He stood up and laughed. ‘She can’t even find one of those for herself. Thanks, Vic. You’ll need this for the betting at the Fire Games.’ He took a brown envelope out of his poacher’s pocket and passed it over. ‘If there’s any left at the end, give it back. If you make a profit, it’s all yours.’

I checked the envelope. Lots and lots of twenty pound notes. There was no question of not accepting it. I shoved it in my jeans and when it was out of sight, he said, ‘Be careful not to lose your shirt. Either literally or metaphorically.’

‘And who in Nimue’s name am I gonna take me shirt off for, you great lump?’

He turned and strode away, his limp having eased off during the long walk. ‘You tell me, Vicky, you tell me.’

‘Not funny!’ I shouted at his back. Then I had to run to catch up with him. As we got near the back door, he stopped suddenly, drew a breath and started limping again.

I made sure that Rachael knew what I thought of her before we went to the Inkwell for Conrad’s birthday party.

‘He’s told me what you did,’ I said when we passed on the staircase.

Passing on the staircase on its own was enough to wind me up. When my grandma gave me her genes for magick, she also passed on her predisposition for superstition. That’s what I reckon. In Elvenham, for some bizarre reason, they think it’s good luck. Bloody Clarkes.

‘Oh,’ said Rachael. At least she looked upset. That was something. ‘I didn’t mean for this to happen, you know.’

‘Maybe not, but it did. You’d better find a way to make it up to her.’

‘Yeah. I’ll stay away from Spain for a bit. That should do it.’

‘It’s not your mam you need to make it up to, it’s Mina!’

She made an indistinct noise in the back of her throat. ‘I already have. He didn’t tell you the other reason he’s going to Spain, did he? I thought not. They’re going to talk Christmas, and I don’t get to have any say whatsoever. And whatever they decide, I have to fall in with.’

‘Aye, well, there you go.’

She closed her eyes and took a very deep breath. When she exhaled, she blinked a few times. ‘I am totally sorry that you got dragged into it, Vicky. I really am. I’m also very glad that you’re going to be there. For Sofía.’

‘Poor bairn. Are you sure you haven’t bitten off more than she can chew?’

For an answer, she fished out her phone and scrolled to a video. Under harsh stage lights and recorded on a cheap phone, I saw a young woman strutting her stuff. ‘Is that her?’

‘Valencia Region under-16 Flamenco championships. Bronze medal. So long as she’s on stage, she’ll be fine. It’s you lot she has a problem with.’

‘Eh? What lot?’

‘She got drunk one night and called you the cuervos en la fiesta. Or something. “The crows at the feast.” If half the rumours and stories I’ve heard about the King’s Watch are true, I think I’d feel the same.’

Ouch. That hurt. If Rachael was my sister, I’d have a comeback for that.

She saved me the trouble, though, by going bright red. ‘I’m sorry, Vicky. I shouldn’t have said that. I know Conrad loves Sofía and he’s only looking out for her. Don’t spoil his birthday. Please.’

I left a pause so she got the message. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it, Rachael.’

The man himself appeared at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Hurry up, sis. We’re off in a minute.’

‘Sorry! Just going to grab a scarf.’

He started passing out ginormous umbrellas and we were soon on our way. I ended up sharing with Tamsin, because Conrad and Chris are so tall they’re no use to anyone with an umbrella.

‘Hi Vicky. Have you got over your shock?’

She looked excited, and who am I to rain on her parade? ‘Just about. I’m actually looking forward to it now.’

‘Good. What are you going to wear?’

After my indulgent bath, I’d finally gotten round to opening the invitation. It was handwritten on gilt-edged card printed with the Hawkins crest and their address. Very nice. It was signed Rupert & Celeste and I had to think. I’d forgotten that Lady Hawkins was called Celeste, and I’m not sure that I ever knew that her (non-magickal) husband was called Rupert.

Saffron had added a note on the back: I’ll call you Sunday night to sort out your outfit. I’d also thought about what Conrad had suggested, and a quick Google of options was pushing me in that direction.

‘I’ve no idea,’ I said to Tamsin. At that moment, it was the truth.

‘We’re going to Angels costume hire to start with,’ she said. She saw the look on my face. ‘What?’

‘Nothing. I went shopping there with Mina once. It was an early step in getting that ruby back, and after it, well, let’s just say that I think I’m still barred from Farthingale and Daughter.’

‘How…? Oh. Sorry. Are you going to get a proper corset?’

‘Not if I can help it.’

She adjusted the umbrella to give me more protection and looked at me sideways. ‘When you’ve had three kids, you take all the help you can get. Do you know how many layers of Spanx I put on to wear that dress last night?’

‘Ouch. Worth it, though. You looked great.’

She beamed, and I went for a change of subject. ‘Have you heard from Oma Bridget? Kids okay?’

The three girls were with Chris’s mother last night, for only the second time in their lives. Tammy gave a little nod. ‘Mm-huh. All tickety-boo, to quote my mother-in-law. We’ve got a few hours yet, so let’s make the most of it.’

The Inkwell pub has a decent sized function room, and that’s where we were headed for Conrad’s birthday brunch. It was the only way to fit in with everyone’s plans.

I recognised Myfanwy’s handwriting on the little cards in front of the heated serving dishes. “Hash Browns (Kosher)” and “Venison Sausages (No beef. Kosher).”

If I haven’t had to cook it, I’ll eat almost anything, though I do draw the line at black pudding.

It was delicious, and after we’d cleaned our plates, we toasted the birthday boy in half pints of Inkwell Bitter. The toast was led by Rachael, and when she got up to speak, I remembered that she hadn’t been wearing her scarf when we’d hung up our coats. So what had she gone upstairs for? Never mind.

‘I know that I speak for Ben and Alain when I say this, and I’m sure Mina will agree that the world of magick – if you’re not born to it – can be a totally freaky place. I’m sure that’s why Conrad fits in so well. Me, not so much, and before we get to the toast, I’d like to thank you all for welcoming me.’ She paused and looked round, emotion quivering in her cheeks and lips. ‘You didn’t have to do that, and the fact that you did shows how generous you are.’ She paused again and her nostrils flared with a deep in-breath. ‘Which makes me wonder why you’re all friends of Conrad.’ Polite laughter. ‘The obvious conclusion is that you’re really friends of Mina’s and doing it for her sake.’

That produced more laughter, and a big sigh from Conrad. ‘My sister, ladies and gentlemen: mistress of the back-handed compliment. If only her back-hand in tennis had been as good, she might have made it as a pro.’

‘I think that makes it fifteen-all,’ observed Mina, with a glare at Rachael.

Rachael flashed Mina a smile and picked up her glass. ‘Even without magick, I know that Mina would have been here to help Ben and I celebrate today, but here’s a question we’ll never know the answer to: would Conrad and I have ever met Sofía if Conrad hadn’t been given his Gift?’ She paused to let us know she was serious this time. ‘Sometimes you need a fresh perspective to see what’s been under your nose all your life, and it’s this: I have the best big brother a girl could wish for. I wouldn’t change you for the world, bro. To Conrad.’

‘To Conrad,’ we echoed, each adding our own rider. ‘Happy Birthday, big man,’ or, ‘To the best spinner in Clerkswell.’ Or something in Yiddish. Or Welsh.

When we’d finished, Rachael stayed standing and said, ‘Ben? The present?’

We’d all been asked to put a tenner towards a collective gift rather than individual presents, but Mina wouldn’t tell me what it was. At that price, it must be good. When Ben collected it from a corner of the room, it also looked big and bloody heavy.

He handed it to Conrad and stepped back. It was about three foot long and two foot high, and Conrad looked as mystified as I felt. He balanced it on the edge of the table and ripped off the paper. It was a chunk of steel, so definitely heavy. He turned it over and broke into a big grin. With another flip, he turned it to show us.

It was a nameplate for a house. His house. Only it didn’t say Elvenham House, it said Elvenham Grange. WTF?

‘I see some of you are a bit discombobulated,’ he observed. ‘Well, I can’t keep it under wraps any longer. From today, I am changing the name of my home.’ He looked from Mina to Myfanwy to Sofía and finally to Rachael. ‘Our home. Thank you for indulging me. I should point out that I’m actually changing it back to the original name. Sounds much better. And thank you all for joining me today. The last time I had this many people at my birthday, it was my thirtieth and I was in Helmand province. Something of a captive audience. I know that some of you have things to get on with, so don’t feel obliged to stay any longer. However, before I declare the party over, perhaps you could join me in another toast. To Elvenham Grange.’

We did just that, and it didn’t take long before Rachael, Sofía and Eseld slipped away to carry on rehearsing for next weekend. I would have been quite happy to stay all afternoon, but the Boss had other ideas.

She circulated a bit while I talked to Mina, but then she came back and gave Conrad a big kiss on both cheeks. I sighed. It was time to go. She also gave the signal to Chris and Tamsin; like me, they weren’t happy to be going, either.

We followed the Kellys’ Range Rover with Alain now at the wheel of our people carrier. I’ve been this route before, so I was able to give him advance warning of the turnings. And to activate the charm that would let us through the Wards.

The rain had turned to drizzle when we pulled up outside the Foresters Hall, HQ of the Arden Foresters Circle of Magick. It was wet enough to make everyone miserable but not so wet that we could justify umbrellas. Not for the short time we’d be here. Alain peered through the windscreen at the historic half-timbered hall and said, ‘It is beautiful, non?’

‘I hate thatched roofs,’ said Hannah, opening her door. ‘You never know what’s living in them. We won’t be long, Alain.’

We slipped out as the great double doors to the hall opened. Conrad reckoned it was an old barn – there were matching doors on the other side. He’d told me they used to thresh corn with both doors open to blow away the chaff. Not today they weren’t.

Chris and Tamsin were already waiting. Through the doors, a young woman on crutches ushered out three tiny girls to be reunited with their mam and dad. The little Kellys were swept up and swept into the car, and while Tamsin sorted the car seats, Chris thanked the girl and had a brief chat to his mother, who had followed behind with a suitcase and a holdall. He took the holdall, kissed Oma Bridget goodbye and swapped with Tamsin. There was no kiss for her, but at least there was a smile. Hannah and I waited until the Kellys’ vehicle was on its way out of the drive.

The young woman wore the robes of the Arden Foresters, as did Oma Bridget. Both had oak trees embroidered on the front with extra detail to show their inclinations and experience. The Oma of the Foresters gets to have a Handmaiden, and the younger woman had once served. So had Erin. They can’t always be picky.

The long robes hid the damage to her leg underneath: ruptured ACL and compound fracture of the tibia. Both wounds had been sustained helping Conrad overcome a pack of Gnomes, and just before that she’d saved Mina’s life. But that wasn’t why we were here.

Hannah bowed. ‘Oma Bridget.’

The old lady nodded. ‘Constable Rothman. You are welcome here. I wish it could be under different circumstances. Victoria, it’s good to see you again.’

‘Oma.’

‘How is she?’ asked Hannah, gesturing towards the girl.

‘Well enough.’

‘Vicky?’

I stepped forward and cleared my throat. ‘Lieutenant Karina Kent, you are under arrest for Misconduct on Operations. You will be arraigned before a military court and will be given legal representation. Is that clear?’

She nodded.

Karina had already surrendered her Badge of Office, so I slid open the door and helped her get inside the vehicle. I checked her for hidden Artefacts, and when I found she was clean, I took the seat next to her for a moment. ‘Anything I should know about before I put you under Silence and we set off?’

She looked so young. Poor bairn. And then I reminded myself that she’d gone hand-to-hand with a Gnome and ended up on top of him with her dagger in his neck. I did not envy Hannah in trying to decide what to do with her later, after she’d done her time in the Undercroft.

‘I read the reports on the Sexton case,’ she said. ‘Conrad made me.’

‘Oh, aye?’

‘You … you spent time in two different Limbo Chambers. No one else I’ve met has ever been in one.’

‘We got locked in. Twice. Not our finest hour. My foot still aches sometimes from where Conrad broke it.’

She tried a smile. ‘Any tips for surviving it?’

A few weeks ago, I’d have given her some platitudes and moved on. That was before I went to France. ‘You’ll have read all the reports? Including Lunar Hall?’ She nodded. ‘So you know who Keira Faulkner is. Well, I met her a few weeks ago, and she’d made a full recovery. You’re a better person than her, Karina, so if she can do it, you can do it. Just remember that you will get out. It will end. Talk to the bailiffs. Play chess. Anything to keep going for another day, another hour, another minute.’

She swallowed hard. ‘Thanks.’

I don’t think that helped, to be honest. I must work on my pep-talks. I nodded to her then put her under a Silence. Outside the vehicle, Hannah had collected the suitcase and brought it over. I took it in and stowed it away.

Hannah had intended to charge Karina with Disobeying Lawful Commands and give her a short sentence, but that was before she ran up against her other deputy, Iain Drummond.

Karina had committed her offence in a face-off against a pack of wolves, and Conrad had ordered her to shoot the wolf queen with the hi-tech hunting bow that’s her weapon of choice. Instead, Karina had chosen to shoot a police officer. Iain Drummond had said that saving lives after the fact might be mitigation for sentence, but not for the charge.

According to Tennille, they’d argued so loudly she could hear it through the oak doors in Merlyn’s Tower. And that was the “situation” that I’d thought I was coming up here to deal with.

‘Will she be allowed visitors?’ asked Oma Bridget.

The Boss answered. ‘If she’s there for more than a week, yes.’

There wasn’t a lot more to say. Hannah offered her hand, and it was accepted. I got a kiss as well.

We climbed back into the vehicle. ‘Blackfriars Station,’ said Hannah. ‘Stop for a comfort break before we hit the M25.’

5 – Honoured Guest

It was late by the time I met the car rental guy in Bloomsbury Square to hand over the keys. Karina was now in the custody of Blackfriars Undercroft and would be getting used to her cell. Tomorrow, it would get a lot, lot worse.

I dumped my bags and got changed into the slobbiest old tracky bottoms in my wardrobe and parked myself on the settee. I wanted to be as comfortable as possible before I made the next call. At least Saffron took it straight away.

‘You sound shattered, Vicky. Busy weekend?’

I gave her the headlines, including Karina’s arrest.

‘Wow. Why you?’

‘Conrad’s a witness and on sick leave. The Boss will have to chair a tribunal after she gets released, so muggins here had to be the arresting officer.’

‘That is so shit.’

‘Aye, tell me about it. Now, about this bloody charade next weekend.’

‘Sorry, and all that, but I’m looking forward to it. And to having you there. Seriously.’

Saffron Hawkins and I are not friends. She was Conrad’s second partner, after I got promoted, and a little part of me is jealous of that. I’ll admit it. Also, she’s posh, rich and has mega-amazing hair. Alain says that I’m better looking, but I’m his landlady, so he’s biased.

On the other hand, she’s good company and she was never anything but respectful to me when I was her training officer. She was trying to be nice.

‘Why are you looking forward to having me there?’

‘Because then my family will have to be nice to me, of course.’ She paused. ‘They’re great with outsiders. They’ll make you welcome.’

Wow. I didn’t see that coming. She’s always made jokes about her family and that she joined the Watch to stick it to them, but this sounded like it came from a lot closer to the heart.

I sighed inside. ‘Go on then, how many outfits do I need to get, and what’s the dress code? I take it they won’t let me put me feet up like Conrad does when we’re in Clerkswell.’

‘Oymigod, sorry. Didn’t Raitch spell it out for you? You’re staying with me in the cottage, so all you need is the costume for Saturday night. Unless you want to go up to the house for Sunday breakfast, in which case it’s smart casual.’

Part of me was disappointed that I wasn’t going to get afternoon tea served by maids in uniform. Part of me. Most of me was relieved that the same maids wouldn’t be going through me undies drawer and passing judgement on how little I spend on make-up compared to Saffron.

‘I’ll skip the family breakfast, thanks. Anyway, since when did you start calling Rachael Clarke “Raitch”?’

‘Since she took me to Edward’s Club.’

Bloody hell. ‘Really? Does that place actually exist? I thought it was an urban legend.’

‘It exists alright, but only if you know people, and Rachael knows people.’

No wonder Rachael had got Team Gitana a booking at Cherwell Roost with connections like that.

‘Right. So. Costume for Saturday.’

Before I could continue, she rushed in with, ‘Yeah. Can you text me your measurements tonight? I need bust, waist, hips, hip to floor and top of shoulder to Dimples of Venus.’

Eh? I was expecting her to ask for my dress size. Why on earth did she need all that? ‘What the flippin’ heck are Dimples of Venus?’

‘Oh, the little dimples just above your bum. Or the sacroiliac joints if you don’t have them. Not everyone does. And the waist needs to be your real waist.’

‘What do you need all that for?’

‘For my dressmaker.’

Mina had said that Saffron has a personal dressmaker. I didn’t believe her. That’ll teach me.

‘I can’t afford that, Saff, so…’

‘I told Raitch to make it clear that the outfit was my treat. Completely. Top to toe. God, my memory! Text me your shoe size, too.’

‘I can’t…’

‘Yes you can. Don’t you trust me?’

If all I had to do was rock up and get changed, it would make my life so much easier. And cheaper. And I was doing everyone a favour. ‘Of course I trust you, but listen a minute. I was thinking of going as an officer. A cavalry officer to be precise.’

‘Oh.’ She sounded disappointed for a second, then lit up. ‘Can I be your date?’

‘You what? No, I am not going as a man, I’m going as a female officer, like what I really am. Like what you are, too, come to that.’

There was a short silence. ‘That sounds like Sir Conrad talking.’

I’m a little bit jealous of Saffron taking my place as Conrad’s partner; she’s a little bit jealous that he won’t let her call him Uncle Conrad. That’s why she calls him Sir Conrad.

‘Just because it was his idea, doesn’t mean it’s not a good one,’ I said, rather defensively.

There was a pause while she worked it out in her head. ‘That does actually sound great, and it saves me a packet. So, I’ll see you Saturday afternoon, yeah?’

‘Absolutely. What should I get your mam as a gift?’

‘We don’t bother with stuff like that. Cheers, Vicky.’

Shortly later, Desirée got back from evening service, and we settled down to watch last night’s Strictly Come Dancing. I filled her in on what had happened and got my own back when I told her that she was coming to the costume hire place.

‘Why me?’ she spluttered.

‘Well, I can’t take Alain, can I? Well, I can. He’s got to get sorted, too, but he’s not coming into the fitting room. We’ll go on Wednesday. Oh look, here comes that rugby player whose name I can never remember.’

‘That’s because you spend the whole time looking at his chest.’

‘And thighs. Don’t forget the thighs.’

I went to the Cloister Court on Monday and watched Karina get twenty-one days in the Undercroft; I provided telephone support to a very nervous sounding Cordelia Kennedy up in Cheshire on Tuesday; Mina sent me a video of Conrad by his parents’ pool, looking his old self, and on Wednesday we went round the corner to the costume place.

Alain emerged in basically a dinner suit that had tails on the jacket. Otherwise, no different to today. ‘You lucky bastard,’ I said.

He looked very hurt. ‘For why, Chief?’

‘Because all men are lucky bastards, and don’t start calling me Chief.’ I sighed. ‘You look great, Alain. Now get changed and go.’

The lass who helped us out was really canny, but we had a problem. Okay, I had a problem. If I was going to fit in a size small men’s uniform, I had two choices. The infantry version had a lovely long tail coat, but the sleeves were way too long and it looked boring. The cavalry version had a snazzy short coat for riding horses and breeches that would be tight on a small man. I couldn’t get them past me thighs, which is how I ended up being sent to an equestrian outfitters and spending a fortune on women’s white riding breeches that I will never wear again. And Spanx. I was going to be very friendly to Saffron, because going to the ladies would be a two-man job.

Cherwell Roost, ancestral home of the Hawkins family, is one of the easiest magickal residences to find because there are signposts to it. Proper brown signposts put up by English Heritage or someone like that.

True, the signs say Cherwell Manor, but that’s a detail. When you get there, there’s a big board outside that says, “House and Gardens open to the Public Sun-Thur. Café open 7 days,” and that makes it even easier.

Today was Saturday, and Lady Hawkins’ elegant Wards were in place to stop the great unwashed from interrupting her weekend. I don’t really mean that. They’re as much entitled to their privacy as anyone. Whether they’re entitled to live in a house like that is another matter, and not one for today.

The Wards didn’t stop people driving on to the estate, up the graceful drive and into the car park, where parked cars showed that the café in the old stable block was doing good business. What the Wards did do was stop people driving round the back of the stables and through the trees. I am not a specialist in Wards, either making or breaking them, but I know someone who is. Eseld Mowbray put those new Wards round Elvenham House – Elvenham Grange – for Conrad, and they’re good. They kept out a Fae Princess, no bother, but Eseld learnt a lot of magick from her dad. Am I allowed to say that her style is rather masculine? That’s how it comes across to me.

Lady Hawkins is another matter. Her magick is tighter. More streamlined. Maybe it’s just that she’s had a lot more practice. I focused on the bollards at the entrance to the private drive and pushed the Wards aside with a waft of Lux. When I’d gone past, the Wards draped themselves back down, like a curtain falling under its own weight. See what I mean? They were designed to keep out all mundane visitors but allow Mages through, and they were self-healing. Very tidy.

I’d memorised the route: Turn right after the stables go through the wood and it’s the second cottage. The function of the first cottage was clear enough: Sofía and Eseld were standing outside, smoking. I wound down the window and called over. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Good, thanks,’ said Eseld. ‘Dress rehearsal went great, didn’t it?’

‘Too good,’ said Sofía. ‘Now it will all go wrong tonight.’

‘No it won’t,’ said Eseld. ‘You’re gonna knock ’em dead.’

‘Oy, you two!’ shouted Rachael from inside. ‘Get a move on.’

I waved them off and drove up to Saffron’s mini-mansion.

Oh. Scratch that. Saffron’s cottage actually was a cottage compared to the guest lodge I’d just passed. Tiny, really. I parked, and the lady herself was standing in the door when I lugged my case out.

‘You’ve started early,’ I said.

She lifted the wine glass in a salute. ‘Not really. It’s a spritzer, so that doesn’t count.’

‘Not that. I meant your hair. It looks gorgeous.’

It did. Saff has naturally white-blonde hair that Elsa from Frozen would be proud of, and it had been sculpted, twisted, raised into ramparts and adorned with ringlets, dangling twists and more ornamentation than a celebrity’s wedding cake. ‘Tell me you didn’t do that on your own.’

She snorted and stepped aside to let me in, taking the suit hanger off me. ‘Who do you think I am? The hairdresser came here before she went up to the hall. That’s why I opened the bottle. You’ve just missed her.’

Inside the cottage, I half expected a TARDIS-like expanse of space. No. It was smaller than the studio flat I rented in my first year at Salomon’s House: couch, armchair, hob, sink and that was about it. Oh, tiny dining table and two collapsible chairs, all folded up under the exposed staircase. ‘Cosy,’ I said. ‘Especially with the open fire. Now that I like.’

‘I didn’t think I’d be living here much,’ she said. ‘My place in London is a proper flat, and I’m not giving that up.’

There was one issue between us that I thought it was about time to clear up. ‘It wasn’t my decision, you know. The Boss decided that you should be Watch Captain of Mercia, not me.’

The Watch of Mercia covers the industrial West Midlands and its hinterland. It’s boring, hard to get round and full of shifty characters. Not a glamorous posting, but a good place to cut your teeth. Saffron hates it.

‘Really?’ she said. ‘I thought you recommended it.’

‘I recommended you get a permanent Watch of your own. Hannah makes the decisions, not me. You won’t get London for a while, but you’ll get moved on from Mercia soon enough.’

‘Oh? That’s cheered me up no end. Thanks, Vicky.’ She gave me a grin. ‘Let’s get this lot upstairs.’

I took the case and she took the rest, including the bottle and two glasses. She handed me a glass as I stared at the devastation. ‘Truly, Saff, I’ve never seen a floordrobe like this.’

There was a standard double bed with a rickety table next to it, and that appeared to be the only furniture. Almost every square inch of carpet was covered with clothes, shoes, bags, underwear, bedding and general crap. The room went into the eaves, and she’d screwed hooks into the beams. From them hung her best dresses and, bizarrely, her combat uniform. There was no sign of her No 1 Dress Uniform.

‘Good, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘It took me ages to organise it like this.’

Either she’d never heard of irony or she was being serious. I shook my head. ‘I thought there was a bed for me. Is it through there?’

‘Bathroom. The downstairs couch comes out, and I’ll sleep on it. Honestly.’

I put my stuff down on top of a stack of towels, freshly laundered and folded. By someone else, presumably. ‘Where’s your dress for tonight?’

‘Over there, hidden by a Glamour. Didn’t want to spoil the surprise.’ She took a sip of wine and put her glass down on the top step of the stairs. If I did that, it would be all down the stairs in no time. ‘Better go easy now. I was too nervous to have much lunch.’

‘Me too, and I wanted to leave room for dinner.’ I pointed to the case. ‘Those breeches don’t have much expansion room.’

She looked at me in horror. ‘What dinner?’

‘What do you mean, “What dinner?” The dinner tonight.’

‘There is no dinner.’

‘Eh? No dinner? Nothing to eat? Not even a bowl of nuts?’

She went red and looked away, embarrassed. And the reason she was embarrassed was that I’d committed some social faux pas and she couldn’t find the words to explain it without making me feel like … like one of the great unwashed, I suppose. Oh, Conrad, what the hell have you got me into?

She recovered quicker than me. ‘It’s my fault. I’ll get you some toast.’

She swooped downstairs, picking up her glass on the way and leaving me to calm down. I decided that Saffron was really trying her best here, and that sticking with her rather than having a strop was the best option. After all, what were the options? I could get in the car and go back to London. I could order a takeaway and go to the Fiesta in my jeans. Both of those would be a lot worse than getting changed and sucking it up.

I used the bathroom and took a sneak peek at Saffron’s dress. Wow. For a tiny second, I regretted turning down her dressmaker’s services. It was a vibrant, rich blue silk with a daring neckline.

When I got downstairs, I told her how lovely it was. ‘Do you want me to drive up to the hall? That path’s pretty muddy.’

She gave me a plate of toast and lined up marmalade, jam and peanut butter on the tiny worktop. ‘We are travelling in style tonight. Our carriage will arrive at eight.’

‘Carriage?’

She laughed. ‘Golf buggy. It’ll have a real footman, though.’ She saw the look on my face. ‘Vicky, we do not have footmen at the Roost. We have a cook and a housekeeper and contract cleaners for most of the time, but for magickal events we hire in. You’ll see. Now get that toast down you and relax.’

The carriage was on time, and the footman looked suitably impressive in her livery, even if it was clearly three sizes too big for her. And…

‘Don’t I know her?’

‘Shh.’

We were stood in the porch, keeping out of the rain. The footman jumped out of the buggy and opened an umbrella. She escorted us to the buggy in shifts, with Saffron first, and then we were on our way up the track. I put a Silence on us in the back and said, ‘Isn’t she at Salomon’s House?’

‘Who do you think we could get to dress up at a magickal party and serve drinks? All the staff tonight are Aspirants. Don’t worry, they’ll be locked out of the drawing room for the Fiesta.’

That wasn’t what was worrying me. I shifted on the seat and nearly sat on my phone, and that was the worry. ‘I don’t want pictures of me dressed like this circulating around the Invisible College.’

‘Why not? I keep telling you: you look great. Anyway, not a problem. You’ll see. Here we are.’

Cherwell Manor is impressive. It’s not massive. Not like Blenheim Palace or anything, but it is much, much bigger than Conrad’s place, I’ll say that. And grander, too, especially with the magickal and mundane lighting showing it off. The buggy pulled up under a canopy outside the glass doors, and I got out to fulfil my side of the bargain we’d made over the third glass of wine.

Saffron couldn’t get out of the buggy without help, and that wasn’t going to come from the staff, so in full view of her parents and the other guests, I handed her out of the carriage like a true gentleman. I could feel one set of eyes in particular drinking it in.

We moved apart and she led the way. A male footman was stationed just inside the doors, and he bowed low. ‘Your devices, please,’ he said.

Saffron fished out her phone from somewhere in her dress and handed it over. I did the same. We’d already taken pictures of each other and sent them to everyone we trusted, but I was disappointed not to get the chance to snap the others. When I stepped back, Saffron fulfilled her part of the bargain by whispering in his ear.

He stood up straight and turned to the room. ‘Captain Victoria Robson and Captain Saffron Hawkins of the King’s Watch.’

There. I’d laid down a marker and I felt a lot better. It was time to be introduced.

6 – Party Time

But before we get to meet the family, you might want to see the family tree that Saffron had emailed me in advance.

It doesn’t show all of them, just the ones who were there for the Fiesta.

Two maids in long black dresses glided around with trays of drinks. They glided rather pointlessly at this stage because there were only three other people in the big room to greet us, one of whom was in the process of slipping out.

I’ve seen Lady Hawkins a few times before, always at a distance because she’d be at the important end of the room and I’d be down with the … stop it Vicky. The Aspirants of the Invisible College are not unwashed. Some of us even use antiperspirant.

I’d always wondered where Saffron got her looks from, and now I knew: her father. Lady Hawkins is a strong looking woman, with something of a big nose that she tries to detract from by going over the top with the eye makeup. I’m not sure the Edwardians would have matched a purple dress with purple eye shadow, but she carried it off well enough.

Her husband, the mysterious Rupert Thornhill, clearly had Viking ancestors somewhere. If you’d told me he was descended from the kings of a Norwegian archipelago, I’d just nod in agreement. I didn’t get to see much more than long hair and a silver beard before we reached them, and Saffron did a twirl. Rupert took hold of her long-gloved hands and beamed the smile that every Daddy’s Girl knows so well.

‘Exquisite as ever, Saffron.’

His wife smiled for half a second then turned to me. I gave a short bow and said, ‘Lady Hawkins, Mr Thornhill. Thank you for inviting me.’

A smile flickered around her mouth. ‘Captain Robson, you do look the part. Can we stick to first names from now on? I’m Celeste, and this is Rupert.’

We shook hands and Rupert tried not to look at my thighs. ‘So I’ve you to thank for knocking my wayward daughter into shape, have I?’ he said.

I’m not entirely sure that Rupert’s outfit was authentic, but with a hand-stitched silver waistcoat and lots of silk finishing on the jacket, who cares?

I smiled at him and replied, ‘You should thank Conrad, not me. He did the hard bit, not that Saffron needed much knocking into shape, mind you.’

‘Ah yes, the Dragonslayer,’ said Lady H. I do not feel like calling her Celeste. Yet. ‘It’s a shame he couldn’t be here. Indisposed, I heard.’

‘He’s getting there. Take it from me, it’s no fun being stabbed.’

Oops. I think I overdid it there. Rupert looked alarmed, and I don’t think he’s heard about my punctured lung. Luckily, we were saved by the footman, who’d moved to the doors that led from the front of the house. Apparently, all the really grand features (columns, staircase etc.) are all out there.

‘Mister Solomon Hawkins and Doctor Stewart McBride,’ he announced.

Now, I’ve heard of Uncle Solly, but not met him. Saffron took great delight once in explaining that her mother is mistress of Cherwell Roost, but Uncle Solly is master of Cherwell Manor. What that means is that Solomon runs the house as a tourist attraction and business while his big sister is the true owner and hostess.

The other things I know about Solomon are that he’s gay and that he’s married to a don from the University. That would be Oxford University, down the road from Cherwell Manor. He and his husband had both been to the same costume place as Alain, I reckoned, and again it was the non-Hawkins who was the more striking.

Solomon was the spit of his sister in shape and colouring, though he didn’t have the force of personality. What he did have was a pair of distinctly un-Edwardian glasses that made it hard to see his eyes properly. Deliberate, or did he just not like contact lenses? His husband was the very image of a camp don, right down to the pink bow tie and bouffant hair.

Stewart looked like he wanted to be presented to Lady H as if he were a guest, simply on the grounds that it would wind her up. There was a twinkle in his eye that you couldn’t help but like. She was having none of it and rushed through a quick introduction for me as the only outsider so far. I was secretly chuffed when she used my rank to do so.

Solomon shook hands with a quick nod, but Stewart lingered for a second, weighing me up. Satisfied, he dropped his hand and said, ‘Now you’re a girl who clearly knows how to make an impression. I look forward to getting all the gossip about Saffron later. Now, let’s consider the belle of the ball.’

He pivoted to make a deep bow to a very embarrassed Saffron. ‘What a shame!’ he declared. When Saffron raised an eyebrow, he spread his arms. ‘What a shame this isn’t a proper ball. I’d love to twirl you round the dance floor.’

‘Monsieur Alain Dupont!’

Thank the gods for that. Saffron was being swept away by her family, and I needed a friendly face. From the look of naked terror he was giving off, so did Alain.

Saffron introduced him, being very clever by not giving away any of his many connections to the world of magick. ‘Alain’s from a famous wine family in St Emilion,’ she said, only slightly over-egging the pudding. His branch of the family is in local government, but there you go.

‘Do you think there’s any in the college cellar?’ asked Stewart.

‘I’m sure your college has good taste, so yes, there will be.’

‘In that case, I shall order a bottle to High Table on Tuesday.’ Stewart was about to put his arm round Alain’s shoulder and drag him away when the footman cleared his throat for the big one.

‘Ms Heidi Marston, Miss Alberta Hawkins, Mister Julius Hawkins and Miss Georgina Gilpin.’

If you’ve studied that family tree, you’ll remember that those four are off on the right, labelled “Cousins”, and that’s what they are. Don’t ask me what sort of cousin, because I don’t know or care. The Hawkins family sheds mundane members like leaves in autumn, and these four are the most high profile of the remaining magickal branches, and one of them was the figure who’d slipped out when Saffron and I arrived. She’s also the only one I’ve had much to do with.

Conrad describes Heidi Marston as being “Larger than life, in all dimensions,” and it’s fairly accurate. It’s also something I would never say if she were in the same building as me, and she very often is.

Heidi Marston is the Custodian of the Great Work at Salomon’s House, the senior Artificer in the magickal establishment. The Invisible College is small by university standards, and all the senior staff teach at least one class during your time as an Aspirant. There were two classes I hated, and Heidi Marston taught one of them.

To qualify as a Fellow of the Great Work, you have to pass certain core subjects, one of which is Artificery. For that, you have to make an Egyptian Tube, an Artefact which shields its contents like a lead-lined box shields mundane objects. As she processed towards us, I felt a shiver when the words came back to me: ‘Victoria, you have less willpower than damp wallpaper! Project yourself!’

I wasn’t the only woman in male attire tonight, and it had been no surprise to me when I’d seen Heidi peering through the window while I handed Saffron out of the buggy. She’d have enjoyed that, I think, and she looked more at home in her dinner suit than either Alain or Solomon did. By this point, I’d dragged Alain out of the way, and I was hiding behind Rupert. And I’ve no idea why Heidi took the Marston name rather than Hawkins.

Shoulder to shoulder with Heidi was Alberta, known as Bertie, and Saffron’s favourite blood relative after her father. Bertie lives in the Malverns and is known to be powerful, despite the fact that the file on her in Merlyn’s Tower contains only her address. Heidi is squat and has blacksmith’s biceps; Bertie is tall and looks like she should be running a big arts organisation, the RSC or something. And she doesn’t dye her hair. Much. Her gown was in black, edged with purple, and it didn’t have the brand-new sheen of the others. Maybe Bertie has always had a thing for Edwardian fashion.

Slightly behind Bertie’s left shoulder was the slight, wiry figure of a man who I didn’t know existed until this afternoon: Julius Hawkins. He had fair, floppy hair, the sort you want to run your fingers through, and he was young enough to be the same generation as Saffron and me. She described him as a jobbing Enscriber who did bits for the Hawkins clan. With a build-up like that, you’d expect a round-shouldered mouse of a guy, and that was not Julius.

His party burst on to the main group with a big shout from Heidi. ‘Why has no one got a full glass, Celeste? I’m parched!’

At that point, I lost sight of Julius, but I couldn’t lose sight of the fourth newcomer. ‘Who is that girl?’ said Alain, and I didn’t need to ask who he meant. ‘I have never seen a woman so tall and so thin,’ he added, in case I hadn’t come to the same conclusion.

‘She’s Heidi’s daughter, believe it or not. Heidi says that she was a teenage single mother, but not even Saffron knows much about what happened then. I do know that Heidi’s daughter is Georgina Gilpin, and that her mother calls her The Great Geek.’

‘That is cruel,’ said Alain.

‘Aye, well, that’s Heidi for you.’

Another lesson I’ve learnt from Uncle Conrad is to make more of an effort to see people from all sides. Not always easy. There is a group of young women at Salomon’s House who hang off Heidi Marston’s every outspoken word. They cite her opposition to continued male dominance of an institution which is three-quarters female and they’re campaigning hard for her to win the upcoming Warden election. They try to copy her take-me-as-I-am kick-ass attitude, and they worship at the altar of her physical and magickal courage. I call them Heidi’s Gang, and I have never been a member. Desirée used to be, but she’s let her membership lapse recently.

Heidi’s daughter is also an Artificer, and that can’t have been an easy burden to bear. When she got her Fellowship, her first degree at the College, she chose a completely different path to her mother. She partnered with one of us – one of the Watch, Li Cheng. He was a few years older than her, and they did some pioneering work on integrating magick with technology. On the back of it, Cheng became the Royal Occulter and Georgina left London to set up her own laboratory in Oxford. She’d left Salomon’s House when I arrived, five years ago, and I’ve only seen her a couple of times. As you’ve gathered, she’s not someone you miss.

She must be the same height as Conrad, and she normally wears glasses. Tonight, she blinked a lot, so I’m guessing she was trying contacts. The Hawkins dressmaker had excelled herself with Saffron and done a credible job with Lady H, but Georgina had defeated her. Yes, the gown emphasised her slim (!) figure, but that colour… she looked like a tree. A sapling. The dark green gloves didn’t help, either.

I was whispering the basic details to Alain when one of the maids got round to us, and we grabbed a glass of fizz. He stuck his nose into the glass and gave a big sniff. ‘Mmm. Good.’

He was right. That went down a treat. I was just starting to relax when Lady H parted the group in front of us and came to introduce the new arrivals. ‘This is Captain Robson of the Watch, and Monsieur Alain Dupont.’

Heidi did at least shake my hand and pretend that we were meeting as equals. She blew that straight away by saying, ‘Hello Victoria. You know I do love a girl in uniform. Suits you.’

Every memory of failure and inadequacy rushed to my skin, burning my face and making me sweat. I was glad of the cotton gloves. What could I say to that? A hundred things, if I’d had a chance to practise. Right then, it was all I could do not to look down at the floor.

I was saved when Bertie physically bumped Heidi to one side, saying, ‘Go away and pick on someone your own size, Heidi. You’re incorrigible.’ Bertie must be stronger than she looks.

Heidi moved on to Alain, and Bertie shook hands with me. ‘It’s Vicky, isn’t it? I’m Bertie, and I’ve heard a lot about you from Saff. A lot of good, I might add.’

With Heidi out of the way, Saffron had come back. ‘And all of it true,’ she said.

Bertie tilted her head to look at me. ‘And you look like you’re far too discreet to talk about Saffron while she’s here. I shall wait until later.’

I didn’t know whether to feel relieved that Bertie took me seriously or worried that she was going to give me the third degree. Standing up to Heidi was one thing; her cousin was a much more sophisticated operator.

Georgina Gilpin was next. She was having trouble focusing on me. Literally. She left her hand in mid air and waited for me to shake it. Unlike Celeste, Heidi or Bertie, I got a flash of Lux when our gloves met. She wasn’t trying to scope me out, but something happened.

‘Oops! Sorry about that,’ she said, apologising to a point behind my left shoulder. ‘Are you going to let me call you Vicky? Oh, good. You must call me GG.’

‘Erm…’

That’s what Heidi calls her: GG for Great Geek.

‘I don’t like Georgina, so GG stands for both my initials.’ She made a heroic effort to focus, and I felt more magick. ‘I do know what my progenitor calls me, and that’s no skin off my nose. How’s Cheng? Haven’t seen him in an age.’

She sounded older and posher than any of her family, and all of her face was smiling except her eyes, which were blurred with optical magick. Creepy isn’t in it. ‘Cheng’s good,’ I said. ‘He keeps complaining that we’re making it impossible for him to do any research.’

‘Too many dead bodies all over the place, what?’ Her voice dropped to a whisper and she looked at Alain. ‘Who’s he? Sûreté de Magie?’

‘A friend and flatmate. He’s in finance, not magick.’

Her eyes snapped back to normal as she dropped the Work, and her whole face was smiling at me. Or where she thought I was. ‘I must find out more. Lovely to meet you, Vicky.’

And that left Julius. While I’d been talking to GG, he’d embraced Saffron and was just saying, ‘…favourite cousin looking hot. Shame.’

Why hadn’t we met before? Why hadn’t I seen him at Salomon’s House? I was about to ask him that when Lady H spoke over us to Saffron. ‘Do me a favour, would you? Go and drag the Es out of whatever hole they’ve crawled into. She gets worse.’

Saffron hopped to it, lifting her dress and trying to hurry gracefully towards the doors.

‘Who are the Es?’ I said to Julius.

‘Her brother and sister, Emma and Edward. Most people call me J, spelt J-A-Y. It’s a Hawkins thing.’ He saw me glance from Heidi to her daughter and his lip twitched into a half smile. ‘Heidi’s nickname should be HM, but I prefer Her Majesty.’

‘Don’t! I have a horrible habit of repeating things like that. Especially after a few glasses.’

‘Oh, good!’ He waved over more drinks, and I got a wink from the waitress. She clearly knew me from Salomon’s House. He swapped my glass for a full one and said, ‘Is that an authentic King’s Watch uniform? The red suits you.’

I hate compliments. Especially when I’m not wearing a Glamour. I tried to bat it away. ‘No such thing, I’m afraid. On top, I’m a captain of the Inniskilling Dragoons, and below the waist I’m in the Household Cavalry.’

Me and my big mouth. I’d just invited him to look downstairs, and he did. Briefly. Then he focused on the jacket. ‘I heard you got a medal. Not on display?’

‘I had to ask the expert. Conrad told me not at a private function.’

‘Shame.’ He pushed back the hair over his eye and his lip twitched again. ‘You really don’t remember me, do you?’

Cue panic! Please, all the gods, don’t let him be a one night stand who left while I was still drunk. He waited until he’d seen the flight response in my eyes, then put me out of my misery.

‘Edinburgh. I was a grad student when you came to Napier College for your lessons with the Imprimatist, and then again when you came as a Watch Officer. You got invited to better parties than I did. One of the reasons I left before I’d finished my doctorate.’

Panic over. Then a feeling of inadequacy that he hadn’t asked me out when he had the chance. It also meant he was a few years older than me. ‘One of the reasons you left?’

‘I got a better offer.’ He looked at GG, who seemed to be getting on with Alain like a house on fire. Heidi had shaken hands and moved straight on – a mundane male had nothing to offer her. ‘I’m Georgie’s assistant and amanuensis.’

‘Georgie? Not GG?’

‘I keep forgetting we’re at Hawkins HQ. She’s complicated when it comes to her identity. We all are, I suppose. I …’ He looked over my shoulder but not in a rude way: he’d seen something that put him on high alert. ‘Prepare to take cover, Vicky.’

I pivoted on my fake cavalry boot and saw the last two Hawkins coming to join us; they’d come from the gardens, bypassing the footman. Edward is Saffron’s younger brother and a mundane student at Oxford. He takes after his father in looks, a sort of apprentice Viking who’s taken up rugby instead of pillaging. I turned reluctantly to look at the older E – Emerald, known as Emma, and I could see why Jay was expecting trouble.

Conrad would love to know more about the Fleet Witches. So would I: they’re a pretty secretive lot. I know that they have premises in the Old Network under London, and that it’s very rare for them to identify themselves. Here was one, though, and I knew that from her outfit. Or rather, from her accessories.

She had a gown in a lighter shade of purple than her mother’s, and she was carrying the skirts because it was wet out there, but that wasn’t what interested me. It was the cloak.

The shade was an intense red, amplified by Lux to glow ever so slightly. It could have been a fashion statement if it weren’t for the black hood and the fastening of silver chains at the neck. She looked up and looked around, and a horrible sensation gripped me in the guts: the hood was empty, a black blank. No wonder they scare people shitless.

‘Emerald, take that off now!’ said Lady Hawkins. ‘We have guests, in case you’d forgotten.’

‘Am I not one of them?’ asked the cloaked figure. It was no human voice I heard, it was a threat of violence that ran all down my spine.

From behind me, Alain muttered something obscene in French. ‘You’re not wrong, pet,’ I echoed.

She touched the medallion that hung from the chain, and the links parted. With a swirl of fabric, she swept off the cloak and folded it over her arm. I let out a sigh of relief and blinked at her to get a focus on the young woman underneath the horror-show costume.

‘Takes after her mother, doesn’t she?’ whispered Jay. She did, compared to Saffron and Edward. ‘HM has suggested that Julius isn’t her father, which says a lot more about Heidi than it does about Celeste.’

Saffron appeared then, from the house, and rolled her eyes when she saw that the Es had come in from the garden. ‘Where have you two been?’ she demanded.

‘I found her down at the grove,’ said Edward. ‘I knew someone would have to drag her here.’

Lady H made no effort to introduce her children, and went over to say something to Emma in the corner where she’d gone to stash her cloak; Edward made for the champagne.

Saffron came over, and Jay excused himself. ‘I’d better rescue your friend and flatmate from my boss and say hello to him.’

I felt disappointed when he left, something I hadn’t expected. I turned to Saffron and saw a bucketload of tension fall off her face. ‘That’s the worst over,’ she said. ‘We can hide now. How are you feeling?’

I couldn’t help glancing at Jay. ‘Better than expected, all things considered. Not all your relatives are psychopaths. Just most of them.’

‘Harsh but fair.’

‘What is it your dad does again? You’ve always been a bit vague about that, but now I’m here, I might have to talk to him.’

‘He calls himself an antiquary. He’s an expert in all sorts of old stuff. He’s got a Hawkins Glass.’

That’s a sort of magnifying glass that lets mundane people see Lux radiating from objects. It was invented by one of the earliest Hawkins Mages. ‘A wedding present?’

‘Oh no, he inherited it. Granny Thornhill is a Witch, and she gave it to him on his fourteenth birthday, when it was obvious he wasn’t going to get magick. He met mother when he came to look at some of the family heirlooms.’

‘Thanks for the heads-up.’ For the first time, I took a proper look at the room not the people in it. ‘What is this place?’

‘The Old Dining Room. There used to be a fifty-seater table in here, but now we use it for functions. You could get married here. I’ll get Uncle Solly to give you a good rate.’

I snorted. ‘I’ll get back to you on that one. When I draw me pension, if I ever do. Aye aye, look to.’

The doors banged open and the footman excelled himself. ‘Mister Chris Kelly and Mrs Tamsin Kelly.’

Chris’s tailcoat had to have been hand-made for him, because it fitted beautifully and even gave him some breadth in the shoulders. Tamsin looked stunning, hanging off his arm and beaming at the room, except she’d opted for white. And a corset that must be doing some serious shoring up. With the half-down hair-do, she looked younger than ever, and she’s never looked less like a suitable partner for her husband, a fact that didn’t escape her audience, especially Emma.

‘You have to be joking,’ she breathed.

Stewart McBride was nearest and put a hand on her exposed shoulder to squeeze it. ‘Not out loud,’ he muttered from the side of his mouth.

Tamsin curtsied to Lady Hawkins, something that the original Tamsin would never have done, and took the compliments on her outfit without seeming to notice the irony. Lady H introduced her to her brother and Stewart, and the group started to break up now that everyone was here.

‘More champagne,’ said Saffron. When we’d cornered the maid and found some space, she looked towards Julius and said, ‘Interesting. Very interesting.’

‘Is he? I haven’t had time to work him out yet.’

‘He’s worked you out. He forgets that I’ve got very good ears, and I heard him asking Alain if you were dating anyone.’

This time, I didn’t just snort, I snorted champagne. Luckily no one saw. ‘Howay man, you’re supposed to be on my side. That’s cruel, that is.’

‘Hey! It’s true. Ask Alain if you don’t believe me. And by the way, I hear that he’s single.’

‘That’s even more cruel. Now I have to wonder if he’s interested or if it was out of pity.’

‘We’ll see. Look out, Uncle Stewart’s coming. I must talk to Emma, you’ll be safe with him.’

I don’t know what she meant by that. Safe because he’s gay? Safe because he has no magick? I took a deep breath and tried to stand like an officer. Whatever that means.

‘Now everyone’s here, we can choose who we talk to,’ he began. The twinkle was back in his eye. ‘And I choose you.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment, I think.’

‘You should. Do you know you’re the first Watch Captain I’ve met, other than Essy of course.’

‘Essy?’

‘My nickname for Saffron. Ess makes her sound like a snake, and she’s the least reptilian person I know.’

‘I thought the Constable had been a few times, and Dom Richmond.’

‘I’m sure they have, and I’m equally sure that Celeste keeps me well away when they’re here. It’s very rare that I get to mix with the magickal people. All I could find out about you is that you’re on the fast-track to greatness, with or without the elusive Mr Clarke.’

No one’s ever said that about me before. Except me Dad. Naturally, I changed the subject. ‘It works both ways, erm, Stewart. Saffron’s told me about the Mages in your family; you not so much. What is it you lecture on?’

‘I’m the Reader in political philosophy at Harwood College, and I can see your eyes glazing over already.’

‘Honestly, no. It sounds fascinating.’

‘Has anyone told you that you’re a terrible liar, Vicky?’

‘You’re not the first.’ Stewart hadn’t invaded my personal space or looked down on me, so I tried something I’ve been meaning to say for ages. ‘I’m not sure whether I should practise lying or get pissed off with people who patronise me and always tell it to them like it is.’

‘Forgive me. Let’s drink a toast: To telling it like it is.’

I followed him in raising my glass, which meant that he finished first and beat me to the next question. ‘So tell me, then. What does Saffron get out of being in the Watch?’

I asked for that, didn’t I? Sod it.

‘She’s doing a job she’s good at and helping others. Rather more than she expected, I think. You’ve known her how long?’

‘Since she was nine.’

‘So you tell me. What’s she running away from?’

‘What do you think?’

I was getting in to my stride now. ‘I don’t like people who answer a question with a question. I put up with it from Conrad, but I’m not in one of your lectures.’

‘Tutorials. One-to-one encounters where I try to get the next generation of the political elite to think for themselves, and you’re right, this is not a tutorial.’ He twirled his glass and looked around the Old Dining Room. ‘She’s running from this. She was quite happy being a Hawkins until Emerald joined that cult at the same time as Saffron was discovering that she was an artefact maker. Is that the right word?’

I’m sure he knew the right word, so I just smiled.

‘Artificer. That’s it. When Essy found that she was an Artificer and that her older sister might be disinherited, she looked for a way out.’

I nodded. ‘She didn’t want to train with Heidi and she didn’t want to become The Hawkins. I guess we came along at the right time.’

‘So long as she survives, Vicky, so long as she survives.’

There was nothing to say to that. While we’d talked, Stewart had dropped most of the camp act and shown another side, probably the one he inflicts on his poor students. Scratch that: the one he inflicts on his rich, entitled students.

We were both looking at the room, and who was talking to who. He sidled up to my shoulder and said, ‘How well do you know the odd couple?’

‘Which one? I can see loads out there.’

‘Ha ha. The Kellys. What are they doing here?’

‘You’ll have to ask Lady Hawkins about that. Chris is a friend of Conrad’s and Tammy is quite close to Mina, but that doesn’t explain why they’re here.’

‘Who’s Mina? Never mind.’

He’d changed the subject because Tammy herself was on the way over. She stopped two metres away and we looked at each other for a second before she came in for a kiss and a moment under a Silence. ‘You look stunning, Vicky, and I’m so glad you’re here. This is nerve-wracking. Celeste has been avoiding me since the introductions finished.’

I gave her an extra squeeze. It was like hugging a lamppost. I stepped back and looked at Stewart, who was looking at Tammy. His face was blank, his thoughts opaque. When he smiled, it seemed genuine enough. I struggled with something that would break the ice and gave up because the female footman was coming over. She now had a distinctly modern belt round her livery, and she was carrying a tray.

‘I’m sorry to intrude,’ she said. ‘Lady Hawkins has asked me to say that we’re nearly ready, and could I take your deposits?’

Deposits? What was she on about? Stewart answered the question by removing a stack of banknotes from his inside pocket and putting them on the tray. Oh. Right.

‘Has Mr Kelly given you mine?’ said Tamsin.

While the footman answered, I reached under the back of my coat and under my shirt. These bloody riding breeches didn’t have a single pocket, and I’d had to stuff the cash into the back waistband. I hoped it wasn’t too damp.

‘There,’ I said.

The footman squatted in a quick crouch and slipped paper bands round the bundles of notes before stuffing them into her money belt. On the tray were little purses made from purple fabric with drawstrings to close them. She stood up and offered the tray to Tamsin. She took a bag and loosened the strings, tipping the contents into her gloved hand. Gold glinted.

‘There are fifty tokens,’ said the footman. ‘One hundred pounds each.’

I took my bag and weighed it in my hand. Lighter than I expected.

‘What are these?’ asked Stewart, holding one up for inspection.

‘That’s Sofía’s picture on the tokens!’ said Tamsin. ‘They’ve been minted specially. I wonder who by?’

Alain was still talking to Julius Hawkins – Jay – and Alain picked up his bag of tokens without having to hand over any cash. Rachael’s doing, no doubt. Mission accomplished, the footman returned to Lady Hawkins and offered her the money belt. She handed it off to her husband and clapped her hands, using magick to make sure we all heard.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, honoured guests, the Fête du Feu will begin in fifteen minutes. If we could meet in the hall.’

The maids started collecting glasses and the male footman opened a pair of doors opposite the main entrance to reveal a very modern looking cloakroom.

‘Excuse me,’ said Stewart, leaving me with Tamsin.

Saffron arrived and linked arms with both of us. ‘Stick with me, girls. I know the shortcuts.’

Now that’s what I call a proper hostess.

7 – Fire Punch

What Saffron didn’t tell us was that we’d have to return down the main staircase, in full view of everyone. Not that they were looking at me. Not with Tamsin taking the lead and drawing all the stares.

Oh, yes. It was a very grand hall with lots of gold and pillars and stuff. I was too busy focusing on where Jay was standing to notice. He was standing close to the bottom of the stairs, actually, and he held out his arm for me.

‘Thank you, kind sir. You made friends with Alain pretty quickly.’

‘He’s got a very dry sense of humour, especially when it comes to his landlady.’ He paused. ‘He thinks Desirée is hilarious.’

Damn. He’s had ages to pump Alain for stuff about me, and I found out nothing about him. ‘Oh aye? What did he really say?’

‘About you? Well…’

‘Are we all here?’ said Rupert Thornhill in a loud voice. ‘Good. Please remember that Artefacts may behave unpredictably in the arena, and will definitely be noticed by the hostess.’ Which was the polite way of saying No Cheating. ‘Good luck, everyone.’

He knocked on the pair of doors behind him and they were opened from inside by the footmen. The hall was well lit with modern LEDs in old chandeliers. From here, the drawing room looked like a fairy grotto.

Jay still had hold of my arm. ‘Do you mind? I was supposed to escort Georgie to the arena and leave you to Uncle Rupert, but she seems to have sorted herself out quite nicely.’

GG towered over Alain, not that he seemed bothered. He even patted her hand and whispered something up to her.

‘I’ll make do with you, I suppose,’ I said to Jay. ‘Do you think we’ll be on the same team?’

‘That’s up to your friends.’

Before I could ask what he meant, it was our turn to process into the drawing room.

I got a dim impression of distant portraits and panelling. It was hard to tell because the only light was from candles, and they were concentrated in the centre of the room, around a clear space, where Lady Hawkins waited for us. There were a couple more candles on a side table near the door, placed beside a big silver soup tureen thingy. And lots of empty glasses. Squat glasses with handles. Also in attendance were the maids.

‘A glass of Fire Punch?’ said one.

‘I’ll get them,’ said Jay. ‘This is Saffron and Eddy’s contribution, so expect fireworks.’

He gave me a glass of gently steaming ruby liquid, and I knew what the handles were for. I followed Alain’s lead and sniffed. Spicy and strong. And just as nice to drink, warming me right through. ‘We have to help ourselves from now on,’ he said when the maids and footmen withdrew, closing the doors behind them.

‘Come into the light,’ said Lady H.

When I passed between the great candles in floor stands, I felt the floor move. Lux was drifting round this inside space, and magick felt different in here, like I was in an echo chamber or something. I tried to use my Sight a bit more than normal, and everything was a little out of focus. It was only disorienting if you let it. If you relaxed, it was quite comforting, like a magickal blanket. Someone had done a good job, and it was much more sophisticated than the effects at Elvenham Grange.

We gathered, standing, around the open space. It was formed on two sides by rows of chairs and little tables. At the end nearest the smoldering fireplace were two high-backed chairs on their own, and the fourth side had the gaming tables. I’ll explain them in a minute.

‘Chris and Tamsin will be our team captains tonight,’ said Lady Hawkins. She was standing by one of the high-backed chairs and would be joint Hostess with Eseld. ‘If you could take your places, we’ll choose teams.’

Choose teams! Cue more panic. Straight back to the netball court on my first week at boarding school. I’d been dragged away from Heaton High School because I had magick, and I’d been dumped in a freezing cold timewarp near the airport with no friends, no idea what was going on, tagged as a Scholarship Girl and put in a room of my own because of the nightmares. It was the second week of January, and the magick tutors had an extra week off over Christmas, so I didn’t even have them.

The second afternoon, we had Games. After running round the gym for ten minutes, the PE teacher told the two tallest girls to pick teams for netball. It took another year before I wasn’t always picked last. I bet that didn’t happen to Conrad. Or Saffron. Or Julius, or any of them. Even Georgina would be a top pick, if she wore her specs.

‘Ladies first,’ said Lady Hawkins.

While I was having a funk, Chris and Tammy had taken the facing chairs in the rows nearest the gaming tables. Tammy was to the tables’ right, Chris to the left.

‘Alain,’ said Tammy.

‘Vicky,’ said Chris without a pause.

I didn’t know whether to feel reprieved or cheated. They’d been told to choose the other guests first, and Alain before me because he has no magick. I took my place next to Chris and he whispered, ‘Hello Vicky. I do love your outfit by the way. You carry it off brilliantly.’

I’ve said that I only hated two classes at the College – Heidi’s was one, and Chris’s was the other. Chris is actually a nice bloke. Boring, but nice. His subject is beyond boring. Desi said that he’d added a new field to the standard model of physics: tedio-narcolepsy. The closer you get to a Geomancy class, the more you fall asleep. Like gravity and a black hole. That’s why I had to take the exam three times.

Conrad finds it interesting and breezes through it. I don’t know whether that says more about him or me, but it’s one of the reasons they’re friends. He’s probably paid Chris to say nice things about me.

‘I wonder who she’ll go for next,’ he said, looking at Tamsin. Now that the guests were accounted for, she could choose anyone.

‘Haven’t you discussed it?’

‘Where’s the fun in that?’

‘Heidi,’ said Tamsin. That was brave.

‘Georgina,’ said Chris. That was sensible. I’d have kept them apart, too. And it would have an edge. I drank some more Fire Punch. Goes down a treat.

‘Bertie,’ said Tamsin.

‘Rupert.’

‘Stewart.’

‘Solly.’

‘Emma.’

‘Edward.’

‘Saffron.’

‘Julius.’

They drifted over and we took our seats. Chris’s chair was slightly forward so that he could see down the line. I looked at the two teams, seated in the order they’d been chosen. Across the open floor was Team Tammy:

Tammy, Alain, Heidi, Bertie, Stewart, Emma and Saffron.

Down to my left was the rest of Team Baldy:

Chris, Me, GG, Rupert, Solly, Edward and Julius.

Georgina and I shared a table, and we put down our drinks. I put mine on a saucer because I wanted to save marking the wood. ‘That’s for the tokens,’ whispered GG. Oops. Again.

The chink of gold on china added to the atmosphere, and GG whispered, ‘I’m so excited. Are you?’ Without waiting for an answer, she opened her bag and put on a pair of glasses that Heidi could have used as welding goggles. ‘Awful, aren’t they, but they’re the only pair of mundane specs I’ve got that work at different distances.’

She turned to look at me, twisting her long frame to see me properly. With the specs, she could have looked like a monster, but I could see her eyes now. Happy eyes. Georgina Gilpin must be one of the bravest people I know. Either that or it just comes naturally to her.

She took a proper look at me. ‘You’ve freshened your makeup, Vicky! And where’s your bag? I don’t know how you could come without one. It’s my comfort blanket.’

‘It’s my extensive military training,’ I said. When she laughed, I liked her even more. ‘Seriously, Conrad drummed risk assessment into my head so hard I can’t help it. Saffron gave our makeup to the girl footman, and she put it in the bathroom Tammy’s using. It was ready and waiting for us.’

She leaned back a little. ‘Now that was a good idea. I do try to keep track of things, but it gets confusing. Is Saffron really no longer Conrad Clarke’s partner? Weird to think that I had him in my bed.’

She hadn’t really. He’d borrowed a spare bed to crash out while she was at work, and they’ve never met.

‘Saffron’s got her own Watch, now, and Conrad’s Up North with Lieutenant Kennedy. She left the Daughters to join up.’

‘No! Cordy? Well, well.’

The candles flared brighter and Eseld Mowbray glided through from the darkness away to the right. She smiled at both sides as she came, and on Chris’s cue, we stood up to give her a round of applause. She stood next to Lady Hawkins and bowed. When Lady Hawkins sat down, so did we. Eseld stayed standing.

‘Thank you for coming tonight. I hope that we’re among friends here, because this is our first proper Fiesta.’ After the public school accents of all the Hawkins, Eseld’s Cornish burr stood out quite a bit. ‘Celeste and I will be sharing Hostess duties, and this is the first time for both of us. It’s also the first time for Sofía, but I know you’ll be kind to her. It’s going to take a couple of minutes for us to complete the staging, so if I were you, I’d get a top-up of the punch.’

‘Allow me,’ said Chris, shooting out of his chair and scooping up our empty glasses. That had gone down quickly.

Rupert had also got up, which left GG and me alone. Time to move on to the important topic. ‘I was talking to Julius before. He said he works for you.’

‘Mmm. It’s good to have someone you trust. He was at a loose end, and I needed someone to interface some of the graphical structures.’

‘Great. What’s he really like?’

‘Good penmanship. Precise binding.’

I couldn’t tell from her face whether she was winding me up or being dense. ‘Sod that, what’s he really like. Should I ask him out?’

She burst out laughing. A bit like tickling a horse. Not that I’ve ever tickled a horse. Her mother was passing and said, ‘Not in public, GG.’

‘Fuck off, Heidi,’ came the response. There was no malice, just annoyance. She bent her head to me again. ‘You absolutely have to.’

She leaned back as Chris reappeared with two glasses of Fire Punch in each of his massive hands. ‘There you go.’ He deposited two for us and took one to Tammy. Instead of coming back, he took the final glass to Eseld. Rupert had had the same thought and suddenly Eseld had two blokes offering her drinks.

‘Oh, thanks. I’ll need both of them. Could you put it there, thanks, Rupert.’

Rupert had also brought one for his wife, and turned away from Eseld; Eseld took the glass that Chris was offering from his hand and flashed him a smile. She took a tiny sip and put that one down, too. I wouldn’t attempt serious magick when intoxicated, either.

When everyone was back inside the ring of candles, Eseld and Lady Hawkins looked at each other, then stood up, holding hands. The flow of Lux shifted, strands of Mowbray blue and Hawkins purple twisted and flew apart. ‘Okay?’ said Eseld.

Lady Hawkins’ teeth were set in a grimace of effort. This wasn’t coming so easily to her. ‘I’m getting old,’ she said. ‘I think I’ve got it though.’ She sat down with an oof and left the floor to Eseld.

‘Julius?’

Eh? What’s this?

Jay stood up and collected some paper from under his chair. Big sheets of Parchment by the look of it. He gestured to the other side. ‘It’s portrait time. Could you stand up and make a group? Tamsin in the middle?’

‘Do I have to?’ muttered Heidi loudly. Tamsin was up like a shot, arranging everyone. At the last second, Eseld joined the end of the line.

Jay held up a sheet of paper in both hands, his arms at full stretch. ‘Smile!’ There was a flash of Lux and he flicked round the paper to look at the image.

Capturing visuals like that isn’t easy without a whole slew of Artefacts, and he’d done it naturally. Interesting. I couldn’t see the image yet, nor could anyone except him. Satisfied, he put it down and took another sheet. ‘Bertie, could you do the honours.’

‘If I must.’

Chris arranged our group, with me on his right and GG on his left. Lady Hawkins joined us, and at the last moment, Bertie crossed over. Instead of taking the Parchment, she stood at the end and put on a Glamour. A very convincing Glamour of Julius. He wouldn’t want to miss out, would he?

‘Smile! … Thanks. I’ll send you all copies.’

‘Don’t bother,’ said Heidi. Lady Hawkins looked daggers at her cousin before resuming her seat, and that was the moment I decided to call her Celeste.

A few seconds later, Eseld was the only one standing again. She made sure that we were all looking at her and swept her eyes along the two lines of chairs. She held it a second longer, then opened her arms. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, honoured guests, it gives me great pleasure to introduce tonight’s Fête du Feu. Please give a big welcome to a new name in illusion and deception, assisted by the sublime Rachael Clarke, I give you Sofía, La Gitana de San Vicente!’

And we were off.

8 – Fiesta Time

Sofía’s entrance was even more dramatic this time. The audience was bigger, the room and costumes added to the mix, and she gave several extra twirls. By the end, we were all clapping along to the beat.

Because I knew what was coming, I’d sneaked a peek at Eseld when everyone else was staring into the darkness, listening to machine-gun rattle of Sofía’s tap shoes. I saw Rachael slide up out of the shadows and grip the sides of Eseld’s chair, and when she did, she vanished. Almost. You had to know she was there to see her. Very impressive. Even more so because Rachael Clarke has only the barest scintilla of latent Gift. If that.

Sofía finished with a flourish and took a bow before coming over to GG to do the first rabbit trick, and this time I hadn’t a flipping clue. One second she was giving the spiel and swishing her shawl, and the next second Georgina was squealing as Pedro landed in her lap. As Sofía stood back, she gave me a wink, and part of me relaxed. It wasn’t going to be a disaster.

The introduction of Rachael went just as smoothly. I leaned forward to look down the line, and when Rachael was revealed, Jay sat up straight and looked very interested. Then again, all the men did. Even Solly and Stewart. Oh, and so did Heidi. She was also the only one who licked her lips. I even heard Stewart say, ‘It can’t be the same girl, can it?’ He said it to himself, so goodness knows if he’s come across her before. Oh, hang on – Rachael has a double first in maths from Oxford. There, maybe?

Sofía and Rachael moved to the other end of the arena and brought the gaming tables forward. There are two tables of different heights for a Fête du Feu: a short one at the front, covered with dishes, and a big one that the practitioner stands behind. The little one is called the Bank, and that’s where the money goes; the big one is called the Field, and that’s where the magick happens. Sofía took up her position and took a deep breath. ‘And now, we begin. First, the Pas du Feu.’

I’d asked Alain what that meant the other day, when I was reading up on Fire Games. He’d shrugged and said, ‘It does not translate very well. Perhaps after I will understand.’ Whatever.

Sofía moved three candles on to the high table, and Rachael put three dishes on the Bank and stepped behind Sofía’s right shoulder, just out of the light. The whole idea of Fête du Feu is in threes. Sofía was about to do the same thing three times, with magick and without, two of one and one of the other and in any order. She stood back and gripped her hands into fists. I’d find this next bit very easy, but not her. Pyromancy is not her strong suit.

She stared at the candles and held out her right hand behind her, not looking as Rachael placed something onto her palm. She brought her hand round and held up a long match for us to see. With a flick of her blood-red nails, she made the tip burst into flame. Magick or friction? It was all part of the show. She held the match to the centre candle and waited until it was well alight. She brought the match to her lips (which matched her nails) and blew out the flame. Now the hard part.

She held both hands over the lit candle and slowly drew them apart, splitting the flame in two and dragging it magickally until it touched the other two wicks. Definitely magick, but definitely not Pyromancy. I wonder if maximising your talents is a special Clarke trait or just common sense. Either way, it was clever and got the expected round of applause.

Sofía bowed and stepped back. Rachael stepped forward and moved the candles down from the Field to the Bank, one behind each dish. This is where the gambling starts.

In simple terms, we were betting on which was the odd one out – one magick from two mundane, or one mundane from two magick. In this case, it really is obvious: the one in the middle was lit with a mundane match, and that’s the one you’d bet on if this wasn’t the Pas de Feu. Chris and Tamsin stood up and put one token each in the dish nearest them.

Manipulating a lit candle is easier than lighting it from scratch. With a swirl of her shawl, Sofía made the centre candle burn brightly, showing which one was the odd one out, the winner in other words. It’s called the Declaration. Rachael scooped up the two tokens and stashed them somewhere in her tailcoat. Until the Fin du Feu at the end, that’s the only payment Sofía will get: £200 isn’t a lot, given her huge expenses and Rachael’s cut (if she takes one). At the end, we’ll tip her as much as we think she deserves. In theory. In practice, we’ll tip her the same as the Hostess tips her.

Between the Pas du Feu and Fin du Feu there were going to be some épreuves du feu, or Trials. So as not to lose momentum, Sofía moved straight on to the first Trial, taking a sealed pack of cards from under her shawl and taking the bull by the horns. She gave the deck to Rachael, and with an extra swoosh, Sofía pointed to Heidi Marston. Talk about an all-or-nothing strategy.

Rachael sliced the plastic with a fingernail and offered the deck to Heidi, crossing one leg in front of the other as she did so. ‘Would you like to inspect the deck for magick and remove the jokers?’

‘With great pleasure,’ said Heidi. She did just that, taking her time and having a good look at the cards. And Rachael. When she was satisfied, she held the deck in one hand and the box and jokers in the other.

Rachael took the deck. ‘Put the jokers in the box and hang on to them,’ she said. Rachael waited until Heidi had sealed them in, and then returned the deck to the Field before standing behind Sofía.

‘My chal,’ said Sofía.

Rachael reached around Sofía and slid the shawl right up her arms, tucking the weight behind her shoulders before stepping back into the shadows. With her arms fully exposed and the Field well lit, Sofía shuffled the cards at lightning speed. She scooped them up and offered them to Tamsin to cut the deck. Holding them aloft, she moved back and dealt the top three cards slowly on to the Field, spaced well out and lined up with the barely burning candles on the Bank. She handed the cards to Rachael behind her and looked around the arena.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, the question is this: which one of these is Señora Marston’s joker?’ She slowly turned to look at Heidi. ‘Unless you still have them both, Señora?’

Heidi locked eyes for a second, then looked down and opened the box. She shook out one card and felt inside for the other. She looked up. ‘Well done, Ms Clarke, whichever one of you it was. That was very good.’

How the hell had she done that? I have absolutely no idea. For a freaky second, I was back on that netball court in my third week, watching the head girl shoot the hoop from the other end of the court using magick. How the hell did she do that?

‘And now the Trial,’ said Sofía. She waved her hands over all three cards, creating gusts of Lux. While they still swirled, she flipped them over. Three jokers, two created by magick, one stolen from Heidi Marston. Which was which? While we stared at the cards, Sofía sprinkled a little powder on each of the candles, causing them to burn red, green and blue, with red to her right.

There was a rustle from my left as Celeste approached the bank. She put down a small velvet bag, and Sofía bowed to her. This is why we have a Hostess, and why Sofía has to use the Hostess’s magick. Celeste had placed a coloured bead in the bag, based on what she’d seen. It would stop Sofía trying to cheat when she made the Declaration.

Rachael stepped up and placed an hourglass on the Bank. ‘Tamsin, you have five minutes,’ she announced.

Sofía’s shawl was back down her arms, and she used a great swirl to divide the arena in two distinct Silences. Rachael turned over the hourglass and we turned to look at each other. This is where I’d had to read the instructions three times; betting on a Trial is not an easy thing to understand.

We had to bet as a team, and it was Tammy’s team’s turn to go first. Behind the wall of Silence, they were deciding which card to back. We had two things to decide: which was our favourite, and how certain we were.

Rupert was the first to speak. ‘Is this allowed? Surely the sleight of hand happened before the layout.’

‘It is bending the rules a bit,’ said Chris, ‘but this is the first trial.’

‘Then half your team is out,’ said Rupert. ‘It’s up to the Mages to decide.’

Julius leaned forwards. ‘Red for me,’ he said.

‘I think blue,’ said GG.

‘Vicky?’ asked Chris. ‘What do you reckon?’

‘I dunno. Not green, that’s for certain. I saw some spillage on that one.’

‘So did I,’ said Chris. GG and Julius nodded in agreement. ‘No idea, Vicky?’

‘Sorry.’

‘I’m with Julius,’ said Chris. ‘Red it is. We’re not one hundred percent convinced, are we?’

‘You don’t sound it,’ said Solly. ‘I’m not losing a hundred quid on three half-hunches.’

‘Mmm,’ said Rupert.

We sat back and looked at the other team, which had five Mages in it. Emma appeared to be having a free and frank exchange of views with Heidi.

‘Can you lipread?’ said GG, taking a drink.

I did the same and wondered when the next drinks break would be. ‘I wish I could.’

GG lowered her voice. ‘How about a game of snog-marry-avoid while we’re waiting?’

‘You what!’

‘You know what I mean. We used to play it all the time at Salomon’s House.’

‘I know, pet, and so did I. This is supposed to be a grown up party.’

‘What’s the point of growing up if you can’t play games?’

I was getting alarmed now. GG doesn’t have her mother’s booming voice, but she isn’t always in full control of the volume. ‘These are nearly all your relatives, GG. Nothing weird about that, is there?’

‘Makes it more fun. And call me George for heaven’s sake.’ She gave me an extra look. ‘Time’s running out. We’ll start with the tallest next time.’

Not if I could help it we wouldn’t. I did not want to go there. And why was I now supposed to call her George??? And there was me thinking that Conrad’s family was complicated.

Sofía cancelled the Silence and Rachael picked up a small silver dish from the Field, one of two. She offered it to Tammy, who dropped one token in and said with some determination, ‘Blue. Blue for us.’

Rachael put the dish in front of the blue-burning candle and offered the matching dish to Chris. He dropped in a token and said, ‘And we’ll go red, thank you very much.’

So there was now a live bet. If Team Tamsin had also gone red, there would have been no live bet, and something different would happen. We now had to make our own choices.

Rachael picked up a bigger dish, divided into eight sections, the most you can have on a team. She held it with her thumb in one section and moved to Heidi, who dropped a token in the first section with an, ‘I’m in.’

Alain and Bertie also played, as did Stewart. When he dropped his token in, he was staring across at his husband, and one of those annoying glances that only mean something to the happy couple passed between them. Annoying because I’ve never had that.

Rachael offered the dish to Emma, and she folded her arms, shaking her head. Clearly she’d lost the argument. In a gesture of sisterly solidarity, Saffron said, ‘No thanks, Raitch. Not this time.’

The dish was placed next to the blue candle and the glamorous assistant picked up a burnished copper dish to come down our line, and I suddenly realised that being picked first wasn’t always a good thing. Rachael stood in front of me with a Clarke grin on her face and waggled the collecting bowl. I tried to pick up a token, but I couldn’t manage it with the cotton gloves on.

‘Hang on a sec.’ I used my teeth to pull the glove off and scooped up a gold token. What’s a hundred quid, eh?

GG / Georgina / George had also removed her glove and placed her bet. When we went to put our gloves down, we weren’t looking, and our hands brushed. Ouch! Magick again, and this time I knew why, and she knew I knew. She yanked her hand back and bit her knuckle in embarrassment.

‘Hey, George, I wouldn’t do that to you. It’s rude,’ I whispered. She had used magick to stop me reading her Imprint. She’d know my rather obscure skill because it was common knowledge at Salomon’s House, and she didn’t want me trying to read her Imprint. Every other Mage would sense me doing it and put up a barrier if they could. Why did she feel the need to take pre-emptive action?

‘Ohmigod, I’m sorry, Vicky. Please don’t be offended.’

‘What’s she done now?’ asked Heidi from across the way. George bit down even harder on her knuckle and drew blood.

‘She scratched me by accident,’ I said. ‘No one’s fault.’

‘I’m surprised she let her nails grow that long,’ said Heidi, losing interest.

Rachael had paused, and now carried on, collecting tokens from Rupert and Solly, and I knew what Stewart’s look had been about: their bets would cancel each other out. Edward passed, and Julius dropped in his token.

With all the bets placed, Team Tamsin had one less token at stake than we did. When that happens, the dish goes along to see if anyone on their side wants to even it up. No one did. That might not seem fair, but the rules allow for it: if we lose, we only lose equal to what they’ve staked, so one token would come back to Chris. Sofía took her place and got ready for the Declaration.

With a flourish, Sofía made the green candle flare and pop, like an indoor firework.

‘No!’ said George and Heidi together. Neither could believe the answer. I couldn’t either, but I was ready to wait a second. After taking in Sofía’s quiet smile of satisfaction, we all turned to look at the other end of the arena.

There was nothing quiet about Eseld’s wall-to-wall grin: her protegé had pulled it off. Celeste was also amused. ‘Two members of the Inner Council at Salomon’s House, a Doctor of Chymic and two Watch Captains. She fooled you all. Rachael, open the bag.’

Rachael sashayed round to the Field and tipped out a green gemstone from the pouch and George groaned. All the way from Spain, I could hear Conrad’s voice: trust your instincts, Vicky. I couldn’t see any difference between red and blue, but assumed it was my weakness. In fact, I’d been right: they were both the illusions and the leakage had been a double bluff.

There is an illegal version of the Fête where the Mage gets to keep the winnings. Not tonight. Sofía had won the round, but her reward wasn’t gold. Rachael returned the tokens to the team captains and held out flat silver platters for Sofía’s reward. Chris and Tammy reached under their seats and held out old-fashioned airline ticket wallets.

‘An open first class return to Valencia,’ said Tammy.

‘And another for a friend,’ added Chris.

Generous. Very generous. The first gift was usually flowers or chocolates.

Sofía acknowledged the rewards with a bow and moved straight on. ‘The second trial needs a volunteer. An Artificer.’ She pronounced it Artifitheer, her Spanish accent getting stronger. ‘Señorita Hilpin, I think.’

Silence.

I nudged my neighbour and got a flash of magick, faint and shimmery. What is she playing at? ‘Hey, George, that’s you. Gilpin.’

‘Gosh! What? Oh, right.’ She stood up, and the way she kept going all the way up until I had to crick my neck to see her was alarming. She didn’t seem so tall sitting down. ‘What do I do?’

Rachael was on her way with three big brass rings, about a foot in diameter. Sofía gave the instruction. ‘Please, examine the rings for me. Look for magick. Or anything else.’

George ran the rings through her hands. ‘Not a scintilla of magick. But they do have little spring catches. See?’

If you looked closely, each ring had a five centimetre arc where a spring would allow you to smash them into each other, joining them together. ‘Please try them,’ said Sofía.

George fiddled with the springs, and only one opened. ‘Two are fakes. Only one works.’

‘Would anyone like to check?’ asked Sofía. Heidi frowned, but shook her head. Rachael collected the rings and passed them back to Sofía. ‘Thank you, Señorita Gilpin.’

‘Oh. Right.’ A flustered George sat down and adjusted her glasses.

Sofía dimmed the candles around the room and began to toss the rings from one hand to the other. Then up in the air. Then she was juggling them properly. That alone was worth entrance fee. And then, in three quick flashes of magick, she slammed them into each other, and this time I had a good feeling.

‘She plane-shifted,’ murmured Tamsin as we all applauded loudly. For two of the rings, Sofía had shifted them ever-so-slightly on to a higher plane, enough for one to pass through the other. But which two? I had an idea about that.

Sofía laid out the rings on the Field, aligning them with the Bank, and while we applauded again, Celeste placed the pouch, ready for the betting. Sofía made the silence, and Rachael cued in Chris before turning the hourglass. This time, anyone could in theory spot the mundane ring.

‘That was great,’ said Chris. ‘What do we reckon?’

‘She’s bloody fast,’ said Edward admiringly.

‘Too fast for these old eyes,’ said Rupert. ‘Not a clue.’

‘If I had to bet, I’d choose blue,’ said Solly. That left the four Mages.

‘Julius?’

‘I blew it. Sorry. I thought there was something going on with the clasp on her shawl, so I wasn’t looking at her hands. The clasp is a decoy of some sort. Don’t know what.’

‘He’s right,’ said George. ‘I think it’s green again and that she overdid the covering magick this time.’

I could see Chris nodding at that – he’d had the same idea. I cleared my throat and sat up. ‘No. I reckon it’s blue. I was watching her eyes, and that was the one where she really, really focused on the ring. They were moving at such a speed, she needed to focus on the spring. For the others, she was more focused on the higher plane.’

‘Wow,’ said George. ‘Cunning, what? I’m with Vicky, because that sounds good to me.’

‘And me,’ said Chris.

‘Good enough for me,’ added Julius quickly. ‘I’m in.’

‘Fine.’

‘Great.’

‘Go for it.’

We sat back and looked at the other side. This time it was Tamsin arguing with Heidi, until Bertie leaned over and put one hand on Heidi’s arm, gesturing to Tamsin with the other. I didn’t need to be a lipreader to work it out: Tamsin is a plane-shifter. Perhaps she knows what she’s talking about. Subtext: Tamsin is a guest. Shut up.

The hourglass ran down, the Silence was lifted, and Rachael stood in front of Chris. He placed his token and spoke out. ‘Blue.’ His wife’s team went for green, and Heidi was not a happy bunny. Talking of bunnies, Sofía was now cradling Pedro again and whispering something in his floppy ears. Strange.

Rachael brought the divided bowl, and we all played a token, even the non-Mages. The other side did the same, except for Tamsin, who went double. Back to us.

Chris evened up the pot, matching his wife, and I thought that was that until George chimed in. ‘I’ve got a good feeling about this. I’m going extra. You should, too Vicky.’

I did not like the sound of that, but I had to choose first. George seemed really keen to big me up, and now was not the time to be a shrinking violet. I went in, as did she. Everyone else passed except Jay, who also backed me. He’s a bit keen. Not necessarily a bad thing.

This left us three tokens up, and Tammy was the only one still interested on the other side. She matched us and went two more. George nudged me, without a flash of magick this time. I took another token and whispered, ‘Last one.’

She nodded and pitched in. Tamsin shook her head, and Rachael placed the dishes. I was in for £300 of Conrad’s money. More than that, the whole of the other team was staring at me when Sofía stepped up.

‘I present … Blue!’

And I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

‘You don’t have inside information, do you?’ said George.

‘Give over. You’re forgetting that there’s not one but two Clarkes in Team Gitana. They gave their word it’s a straight show.’

‘And a Clarke’s word really is binding,’ said Rachael, depositing my winnings. ‘Congratulations, Vicky. Sis wants a word after about how you spotted her.’

Celeste was standing with the blue confirmation stone. ‘The next two Trials will take place in ten minutes.’

The party broke up. I saw Eseld collar Alain and have words with Celeste for some reason. Chris went to the punch bowl and I tried to distract George with talk of our winnings. No such luck.

‘Right, we’ll start with Chris. He’s the tallest. Snog, Marry or Avoid?’

‘He’s my old teacher, he’s Conrad’s friend and he’s married to a friend of Mina’s. I’m gonna say Avoid.’

‘Coward. I’ll go Snog.’

‘Not Marry? Given he’s one of the few blokes taller than you?’ I put me hand over me mouth. How could I say that? ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean it.’

She snorted with laughter. ‘Of course you did. I keep going for the tall ones, but it never lasts.’

I was trying not to imagine the consequences, but George hadn’t finished. ‘I went through all the postgrads in Oxford over six foot three. All the ones on dating Apps. Then I started on the undergraduates. You’d think I’d learn my lesson.’ She sighed as if this was quite normal behaviour.

‘How…’

‘Those Apps are so easy to hack with a little magick.’

‘Shhhh! I might not have me Badge, but I’m still a Watch Captain.’

She thought that was hilarious. Then she stopped laughing.

Celeste had made Eseld and Alain stand in a far corner and open a window before they lit cigarettes. Next to the Victorian screens which Sofía was using to hide her props, Rachael sat on a chair, rubbing her feet. Serves her right for wearing such high heels. It was my turn to sigh.

‘Promise not to do it again, and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you.’

She lowered her head. ‘Sorry, Vicky. I’ll stick to hanging out in bars from now on. Maybe I’ll use a Glamour.’

‘Ouch, George. Fair enough.’

She bumped her knee into mine. ‘Rupert’s next tallest. He’s not a blood relative, so I’ll snog. If he was twenty years younger, I might marry him.’

‘I’ll match you there, but I’d want thirty years.’

Chris returned with not one but two glasses of punch each. Bloody hell.

‘Who’s next?’ said George. ‘Stewart, Alain or Edward?’

‘Stewart. I’d marry him. Great fun, apart from the obvious problem of him being gay.’

‘I’ve heard he swings both ways. Or used to.’

‘I think that’s worse in some ways.’

She gave me a strange look. ‘Each to their own, Vicky, and how nice of you to bring Alain. Please don’t tell me you’ve never snogged him.’

‘Not once. I’ve never had the time to join the queue, and I don’t think I’m his type. Since I’ve met him, he’s only got serious once.’

‘And you only want serious? That’s not what I’ve heard.’

‘Don’t listen to your mother, George.’

‘I never have, except to ignore her. It was the Proctor who let slip. She was after you, but couldn’t get the evidence.’

Chris reappeared with two more glasses. He gave one to Tammy and disappeared towards smokers’ corner with the other. Tammy was talking to Emma and barely noticed him. When I say that Tammy was talking to Emma, it was more that Tammy was talking and Emma was trying not to talk back. At first. As the conversation had gone on, she’d got more interested. I wonder why.

I fixed George with a stare. Or tried to. It was hard to focus on both eyes at the same time behind those glasses. ‘You don’t want to believe the Proctor. She’s a lying cow. It’s just…’

‘Time, please,’ said Celeste.

Pedro was sitting on the Field, sniffing at a silver dome that covered a silver tray. ‘For this Trial, I am grateful to a Herbalist of great renown.’ Sofía placed her left hand to restrain Pedro and lifted the dome with her right. On the platter were three piles of carrot shavings, and Pedro was very keen to sample them. ‘Which one of these has been sprinkled with a special distillation? Which one will Pedro go for? The decision is yours.’

The applause wasn’t as enthusiastic this time, and this trick definitely needs more thought. We bet green, more or less at random, and no one went more than one token. The other side bet red. To give Sofía credit, she hustled through it as quickly as she could and didn’t stop to collect a reward when Pedro shot to the blue pile. We took our tokens back and sat politely, hoping she hadn’t blown her best tricks early. When I saw Rachael bringing the cups and balls, I whispered to George, ‘This will be good.’

If you’ve not seen the cups and balls, it’s one of the most basic but hardest tricks to pull off. Three identical cups, three balls of red, blue and green. Put one on top of the other. Make the balls disappear. Swap cups, stack them up, roll them round. Sofía was a master.

She teased us by making us shout out answers along the way. ‘Where is the red ball? Where is the green? Which cup has nothing?’

None of us got them right, but all of us got wound up. At the right moment, she paused, red ball between finger and thumb. ‘So far, I have used no magick. None at all.’

We clapped enthusiastically, and Rachael brought up a huge platter under a dome big enough to hide a pig’s head. She placed it down and whipped off the lid with a flourish. Sitting inside on an egg cup was another ball, this one glowing with rainbow colours and swirling with magick. Sofía swapped the balls with a deft move and held up the magickal one.

Rachael retreated and Sofía said, ‘What colour is the ball? Is it blue or is it green or is it red?’ As she named the colours, the ball shifted to match her words. She placed it on the table and covered it with a cup. ‘Watch carefully. At the end, the question will be simple: where is the rainbow ball? Under which cup will you find it? I will even help you with more light.’

The candles flared up, and we stared at Sofía’s fingers. Two green balls. Two blue balls. One of each. Three of each. Faster and faster. Stop. Three cups lined up behind the three candles, and I hadn’t an effing clue which was which, except I’m sure she lingered on the one nearest the red candle as a decoy.

‘Rachael, the timer please!’

‘I don’t know about you, son, but I’m going to bet one token on whatever the Mages say,’ declared Rupert. His son and his brother-in-law murmured agreement.

‘I’ve got nothing,’ said Jay.

‘I need to get my eyes tested,’ said Chris. ‘That was phenomenal.’

‘Green,’ said George. ‘I followed that Phare every step of the way. I’m going green in a big way.’

‘You’re green enough to start with,’ said Rupert, pointing to her dress. ‘And what’s a Phare?’

‘A Phare is a lighthouse, or any Artefact that emits light. Green is my lucky colour, so there.’

‘Vicky?’ said Chris. ‘It’s our turn to choose, so…’

‘Not red,’ I said. ‘It’s definitely not red. I’m with George on green.’

‘Green it is.’

The other side were having their usual argy-bargy, and it seemed to be a two-way struggle between Bertie and Heidi on the one hand and Tammy and Emma on the other; Saffron looked on, alarmed.

‘Time!’ said Rachael. ‘Place your bets, Chris.’

Our coin went green, theirs went blue. Game on.

This time, the teams all stuck it out for three coins each and a lot of banter. When Rupert shook his head on the next pass, that was the doubters’ cue to drop out. Suddenly it was me and George against her mother and her cousin. Definitely game on.

‘Ten more,’ said Heidi. And Bertie.

I dropped a grand on to the dish to match them, and George dropped twenty, hesitated, and dropped another ten. She now had three thousand quid in the pot, and sat back with a dreamy smile, resting her chin on her hand. Over to you, mother…

Heidi put twenty to match George. She hesitated with her hand over the twenty or so tokens left. ‘Waive limits,’ she said.

Everyone gasped. Rachael wobbled a bit on her heels, and everyone shifted in their seats, crossing or uncrossing legs and looking at Celeste.

Heidi had asked to go beyond the tokens, and it was up to the Hostess. ‘If you’re sure, Heidi? … So be it.’

Suddenly, Rachael needed three hands. Or four. She put the dish on the Bank and took a tiny notebook and slim pencil from inside her tailcoat. She offered them to Heidi, who accepted with a grin that had become suddenly shark-like.

She flipped the notebook open and scrawled on the pad, then she tore off the top sheet and offered it back to Rachael. ‘Ten.’

That was a relief, and I wondered why she hadn’t used the tokens.

Bertie matched George’s bid in tokens, but shook her head when Rachael offered her the notebook. And then it was my turn.

‘Don’t let the side down,’ said George.

I put my twenty tokens in, and was about to add another ten when Rachael coughed politely. ‘The additional bet is ten thousand pounds.’ I think her elegantly sculpted eyebrows were trying to give me a message, but I don’t speak eyebrow.

‘Oops, sorry. Give us the pad.’

She handed it over. ‘Amount and signature.’

I scrawled £10k, V Robson and tore off the sheet carefully. ‘There you go.’ There wasn’t going to be any more action with the tokens, so Rachael put them down before offering the pad to George.

She filled one sheet for ten thousand, then looked across the arena. ‘Twenty more.’

A huge bird of prey descended from my right, the shiny bald head of Chris Kelly. I put me hand on my heart. ‘You made us jump, man,’ I whispered.

‘Careful, Vicky,’ he said. ‘I…’

‘Shh, Chris. I knaa what I’m doing.’

The notepad was with Heidi. ‘There’s thirty to match my daughter’s twenty and even things up with Victoria. I’ll go another eighty, and that’s it.’

Rachael had gone red from top to toe. I could even see a flush through her fishnets as she came over.

‘We’ll split it,’ said George confidently. ‘Won’t we, Vicky? Share in the glory together.’

Now that would be good. I scrawled £40k, V Robson, and waited for George to do the same. We leaned back together and our shoulders touched as I crossed my legs. George put out her hand grabbed mine. She created a mini-Silence and covered her mouth with her other hand. ‘We’ve shown her now, Vicky.’

‘Well, we will in a second,’ I replied. ‘When it comes up green.’

She gave my hand a squeeze. Her fingers were bony and strong. ‘Winning doesn’t matter, it’s the fact that we’ve stood up to her.’

Eh? Suddenly things weren’t quite so good. ‘She’s not my mam,’ I hissed, ‘she’s yourn. I thought you had this nailed on.’

She wasn’t listening. She was staring at Heidi. What the hell have I done?

Rachael retreated well away from the Field and left it to Sofía. I offered a prayer to any of the gods who might be listening that the ball was under the red cup, that the bets would be void, that my lunacy would be forgotten and that we could move on.

Sofía’s hand shook as it reached forwards to lift the cup off the rainbow ball…

9 – Settlement

It’s amazing what goes through your head when you’re heaving your guts up.

These riding breeches are an absolute swine to get on and off, but they’re designed for freedom of movement, and I was out of that drawing room and half way up the stairs before Celeste had finished suspending the magick that surrounded the arena. It was Saffron who found me.

I didn’t want to look up when I heard the clatter of approaching heels. I didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone. But I didn’t want to be alone either. The toilet bowl doesn’t judge you, but it doesn’t offer much comfort, either. A pair of strong but light arms wrapped around my shoulders.

‘Hey, Vicky. Are you okay?’

‘Do I look okay?’

‘Sorry. Stupid question. Too much Fire Punch?’

She was massaging my upper arms, or trying to. The red coat of an Inniskilling Dragoon is pretty thick.

‘Fifty grand, Saff. I’ve just lost fifty thousand frickin pounds!’

‘Don’t move.’ I had no intention of moving.

Saffron stood up, and I heard running water. As soon as she’d stood up, I missed her arms around my shoulders. A minute later, and no more waves of nausea had come across. I was about to get up when she squatted back down, lifting her dress off the tiles. A soft, warm and wet flannel wiped over my face, then through a few bits of hair.

‘Can you sit back?’

I pushed myself away from the bowl, and she flushed. She chucked the flannel in the sink and put the seat down on the toilet. She heaved me up and plonked me on the seat, taking the edge of the bath for herself.

‘What am I gonna do?’ I moaned.

‘I take it you haven’t got that sort of cash.’

‘I can’t even think about that. What am I gonna do about tonight? I can’t go back in there with all of them looking at me.’

She managed a soul-aching smile that came from somewhere deep inside. She reached over and took my hands. Hers were so warm compared to mine. She shook her head. ‘My fucking family. I hate them. I really do. I also love them, but that’s my problem.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I have some very, very sad news for you, Vicky.’

‘Go on. Break it to me gently. There’s a clause in the rules where I have to pay double? Is that it?’

‘Worse. My family didn’t notice you leave the room. Or care. All they’re bothered about is what’s gone down between GG and Heidi. They won’t notice when you slip back in either.’

‘I cannot go back in there.’

‘You damn well can, and you damn well will.’

I snatched my hands away. ‘How long have you been practising that?’

She’d done an almost perfect impersonation of Conrad. There was a bit of magick in it, just to lower the pitch, but not much. If she’d managed his mixture of steel and empathy, she’d have nailed it.

‘It’s true, though,’ she said, back to being Saffron. ‘My family don’t care, and you can go back. The people who really matter noticed you leave.’

‘Oh aye?’

‘Chris and Alain looked very worried, and the Clarke sisters were distraught.’

‘What about Jay?’

‘Erm, I couldn’t see.’

It was my turn to sigh. She was being diplomatic. Jay had shown his true colours, and they were purple. Hawkins purple.

‘We need to sort you out. Stay there a minute,’ said Saffron briskly, as she left the bathroom.

What the hell am I gonna do? A huge weight was pressing down on me, a weight that Saffron wouldn’t understand in a million years. I’ve been in some bad situations before. Utterly terrified. Like when me and Conrad were trapped in a Limbo Chamber deep underground. That was 9.9 on the screaming heebie-jeebie scale, I’m telling you. This was worse.

I was just starting to cry when Saffron breezed back in. ‘This should fit. It’s one of Edward’s, so there should be room in the chest. Let me get you out of that jacket first.’

‘Eh?’

‘You were sick down your shirt. Missed everywhere else, thank goodness.’

She was pulling the coat down my arms before I could protest, and yanking the shirt over my head before I could say no.

‘Makeup first. Sit still. Doesn’t need too much repair.’

My flight from the drawing room had taken me to the only place of safety I knew: Tamsin and Chris’s bathroom, and my own makeup was still sitting there. A cleansing pad swiped over my mouth and chin.

‘Don’t cry, and the eyes will be fine with some more mascara. Look up. There. Here’s the shirt.’

I fumbled with the male oriented buttons while Saffron fussed with the stock – a sort of hankie that goes round the neck. The coat is meant to be worn fastened, but wouldn’t close over my tits, which was a good job, because I’d never have got the stains out. Edward’s shirt was a foot too long in the arms and like a tent round my middle. Before Saffron could start on the jacket, I put my hand up.

‘Help me with the breeches first, eh? I really, really need to wee.’

Saffron was mistaken about Julius Hawkins: he had noticed, and he was waiting outside the drawing room with the most amazing thing I’ve seen in ages: a hot cup of tea and a plate of digestive biscuits.

To be strictly accurate, the maid who’d winked at me had the refreshments, including a sugar bowl.

‘Are you okay?’ said Jay. ‘I got this, just in case.’

I grabbed Saffron’s hand and squeezed. ‘Thanks, Saff … just thanks.’

She squeezed back and stood up straight before swaying back into the darkness of the drawing room.

I dumped two spoons of sugar in the tea and stirred. I took a slurp and picked up two digestive biscuits. Then I thought of the crumbs, and of the trouble Saffron had gone to with my lips. I put the biscuits back down and thanked the maid. She tried to curtsy with the tray and nearly dumped it all over me.

‘I’m fine, thanks, Jay,’ I said. I didn’t offer an explanation, and he didn’t expect one. ‘Thanks for organising this.’ I held up the mug and took a long slurp.

‘We’ve got a couple of minutes. If we sneak in now, no one will notice.’

‘Of course they’ll notice.’

He put his hand in the small of my back and urged me towards the doorway; I felt soothed and terrified in equal measure. Over the threshold, and I breathed out again. No one had noticed. Seriously, no one looked in our direction at all. They were all standing in different groups, deep in conversation. To make sure I didn’t turn tail, Jay urged me back towards my seat.

As soon as Chris clocked me, he broke off from talking to Bertie and came to meet me. Before he could say anything, I spoke up. ‘I’m fine, thanks Chris. Have I missed anything?’

Jay still had his hand on my back. He whispered in my ear, ‘Catch you later, yeah?’ and left me to it.

‘You missed Celeste and Bertie diving forward like weird boxing referees to separate Heidi and GG, but that’s about it.’ Chris had a smile on his face, and I couldn’t help smile back.

‘Where’s George? I need a word before we start again.’

‘George, is it? I could hear her you know. For the record, I’d snog her, too, and I’d avoid you for the same reasons you were avoiding me.’

I couldn’t help but laugh, even though my heart didn’t want to.

‘Don’t worry, Vicky, your secrets are safe with me. GG’s talking to Stewart. I’ll bring her over.’

Chris and George did look very odd together when they came back: sort of like normal, but normal for a different species. Perhaps that’s how Conrad sees everyone under six foot: normal, but a different species. Chris handed off GG and left us to it. She didn’t even seem to notice that I’d been gone.

‘Good sport, eh?’ she said, then she lowered her voice to what she thought was a whisper. ‘Don’t worry about the progenitor. I’ve sorted it.’

For one wild second, I thought she’d got Heidi to cancel the bet, and my heart sped up. Wrong. Very wrong.

‘I’ve settled with her for both of us, that way you don’t have to see the smug look on her face when you hand over the dosh.’

That was actually quite thoughtful. Useless but thoughtful.

‘What are you doing Tuesday?’ she asked, as if her two statements were connected.

‘I don’t know yet,’ I answered automatically. Sometimes I can be too polite for my own good. What I really wanted to say was…

George ploughed on. ‘I’m coming up to Town on Tuesday. Shall we meet for lunch? You can pay me then.’

And the roller coaster plunges back down again. Three days to find fifty grand. I felt eyes on me from the corner: it was Eseld, lurking with Alain, both of them looking at me with concern. Get a grip, Victoria. ‘Lunch is tricky at Merlyn’s Tower. We’ve a lot on. How about dinner?’

‘Great. Choose somewhere nice. Wherever’s handy for you. My treat.’

‘Two minutes!’ said Celeste.

George looked at me differently, as if she’d only just noticed there was some of me below my chin. ‘Where did you get a cup of tea? And why have you changed your shirt?’

‘I spilt punch on the other one, and Jay came up with the tea.’

‘Oh. Oooh. So that’s where he went. Let’s sit down.’

This I was dreading. Across the arena, Heidi was giving me a doubly satisfied smile. Not only had she got one over on her daughter, she’d scored a point against the King’s Watch. She leaned back in her chair, happy as Larry, and whispered something to Bertie. I looked down so she couldn’t see me blushing.

‘Calm down, everyone,’ said Celeste. She waited until we were all looking before she re-established the magickal field. This time it was all purple, with no Mowbray blue. ‘Two more trials and then the Fin du Feu. The end.’

Sofía acquitted herself very well after we resumed. I won’t describe it, because I couldn’t do justice to her skill. I simply wasn’t paying attention half the time. All I could think about was that I was about to ruin my best friend’s life. Not that she’d be my best friend for long. Not when she found out what I’d done.

Even George was a bit subdued, and she didn’t try to continue appraising the men for snogging potential. For the record, we won one Trial and lost one. At the end, Celeste put two tokens in the hat which Rachael offered her. Generous. Everyone followed suit, so Sofía would have made a good profit on the night. Whether or not Rachael/Eseld/Conrad had helped out with set-up costs, I don’t know.

Before Celeste declared the party over, Julius got his Parchment out again to capture some more images – Sofía and Rachael on their own, together and finally the two Hostesses, on their own and with Team Gitana. Celeste dissolved the magick around the arena, and the doors were opened.

George got out her bag and shouted, ‘Julius! I need you.’ He was on his way over anyway.

He bowed to George. ‘My lady? How may I assist you?’

‘Shut up. It’s a blasted nuisance not having our phones. Do you know your mobile number, Vicky?’

‘Aye.’

‘I don’t. Tell Julius what it is.’

He put his hand to his chest. ‘But we’ve only just met.’

‘Stop it, Jay. You know what I mean. I need Victoria’s number so she can take me out to dinner on Tuesday. I’m seeing those people in town, remember?’

Jay already had his hand in his pockets. Enscribers are never knowingly without writing implements. I called out my number, and he jotted it down. He gave it to George, who said, ‘I’ll text you when I get my phone back.’ She put her hand on my arm. ‘Looking forward to it, Vicky.’ And then she was gone.

Julius stayed put. He held up another piece of paper and showed me that it also had my number. An easy Work. ‘Do you mind? I’d like to see you again.’

I hand out my mobile number all the time. It’s on my business card. Any Mage in England could find it in five minutes if they wanted to. I was very, very torn. Julius Hawkins is fit, clever and thoughtful. He is also a Hawkins, and would be a constant reminder of tonight’s humiliation.

Then again, I could always pretend to be busy. ‘Knock yourself out, Jay. I don’t know whether they’ll let me keep my phone in debtors prison.’

He looked at George. ‘Is it that bad? Do you want me to have a word?’

I shook my head. ‘I’ll survive.’ I was putting my gloves back on, for some reason. Easier than carrying them. I closed his fingers gently round the slip of paper. ‘Give us a week, eh?’

He nodded, put the paper away and tried to lighten the mood. ‘I was going to ask for Sofía’s number, but Alain told me that the Dragonslayer can be a bit protective of his little sister.’

‘A bit! Why do you think I’m here. I’d better go. Early start tomorrow.’

‘Aren’t you going to wait for Team Gitana?’

‘They’ll be ages getting changed. Thanks for the tea, Jay. That was right thoughtful.’

He surprised me by leaning in for a kiss. Just a quick one on the cheek. And he slid his hand down my back while he did it, stopping right on the Dimples of Venus, a hairsbreadth from my bum. I couldn’t decide whether I was relieved or disappointed that his hand hadn’t gone any further.

‘Bye.’

I took my chance to grab Celeste while Heidi was nowhere nearby. I was fulsome in my thanks for her hospitality. She gave me a thin smile in return. ‘I’m sorry, Captain Robson. As Hostess, I should have stopped my relatives from dragging you into their squabbles.’

Am I allowed to say that it was time to man up? Given the outfit, I hope you’ll let me off this once. ‘No one forced me to join in, Lady Hawkins. I hope that the entertainment was worth it? The Fiesta, I mean, not the betting.’

She gave a slow nod. ‘More than you probably realise. Tell me, are you a particular friend of Rachael Clarke?’

‘Honestly? No. Conrad, Mina and Myfanwy, yes. Rachael and Sofía, not so much.’

‘So you know nothing about her business?’

‘Lady Hawkins, I am the last person to ask about money. Clearly.’

She touched my arm. ‘Celeste, please. You may be in uniform, but you’re not on duty. Here’s Saffy.’

Now I do know that Saffron hates being called Saffy. She came out from behind the screens hiding Team Gitana with a smile on her face.

‘Sorted, Mummy,’ she said. ‘I’ve booked them for the Saturday before Christmas.’

‘Well done.’ She turned to me. ‘You’re invited, of course, Victoria. If you’re not busy. Do you think the Dragonslayer will come?’

‘If you really want Conrad here, there’s one way I can guarantee he’ll come.’

‘What’s that? We don’t have game here, so there’s no shooting. Sword fighting?’

Saffron was hiding her grin behind her hand.

‘No, Celeste. If you want Conrad, invite Mina Desai. She’ll bring him as her plus one.’

Celeste looked at her daughter. ‘Really?’

‘Really, Mummy.’

‘I shall bear that in mind. Thank you for coming, Victoria. I must go and congratulate the entertainers.’

I blew out a deep breath. ‘Can I have the keys to your cottage, Saff? I need to get me head down.’

Not a scrap of disappointment passed over her face. She just linked arms and set off for the doors saying, ‘Bring our carriage,’ to the footman.

She didn’t let me speak until she’d force-fed me toast and jam. And tea. And the first thing she asked was whether I was seeing Julius again.

‘Maybe. Probably. I don’t know. I do know that I’ve got to see Georgina on Tuesday and hand over the money. Or throw myself on her mercy and ask for more time.’

Saffron had also insisted we get changed straight away, so we were snug in our PJs, curled up on her couch with a blazing log fire and free of all forms of “shapewear”. If I didn’t feel so wretched, it would have been lovely.

‘I am so sorry about this, Vicky. You did me a massive favour tonight. I dread to think what it would have been like – for me – without you there. I’m so sorry you got sucked into the nightmare that is my family.’

‘I keep telling me Dad I’m a grownup, ’cos he doesn’t believe me. I think he may be right. No one made me bet on that Trial, Saff. No one made me sign the marker. No one to blame but me.’

It went deeper than that, too, but I wasn’t going to admit it. Now I was starting to sober up, I could see back to the moment. I hadn’t wanted to be the poor little Geordie who couldn’t play the game. I wanted to join in with me new friend. Look where that got me.

Saffron looked uncomfortable, because she knew I was right. It was my own fault. ‘How bad is it?’

‘You don’t know the half of it. I’m gonna lose me home. So is Desirée.’

She couldn’t comprehend that, and I let a bit of bitterness seep out. ‘It’s all right for you. When you moved to London, you got a flat bought and paid for. D’you know what I got? A twenty quid Marks and Spencer voucher and a set of kitchen utensils.’ Of course it was a mistake. I could see the hurt on her face straight away. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. Can I explain?’

She nodded. I finished my second cup of tea and looked longingly at the glass of wine she was slurping. ‘Can I have one of those?’

She unfolded from the couch and got me half a glass. It tasted vile, and it was just what I needed right then. ‘It’s like this,’ I began. ‘I’m only in touch with a couple of the girls from school. All my real friends stayed up north, so I don’t get to see them much. When I moved into me new place, I messaged them the address. One of them got straight onto Zoopla and text me back. I’ve got it here.’ Rather than read it out, I passed her the phone.

She read out the message. ‘How the flip did you afford that? Have you won the lottery? Have you married a geriatric oligarch, and are you planning to kill him off? Does he have any single friends?’ She looked up at me. ‘When you put it like that, I suppose it is a bit surprising. I just thought you’d picked up a lot of Plunder.’

‘Saffron, the flat cost two million quid. That’s a two with six zeroes after it. I barely had a one percent deposit, never mind twenty percent. I had to liquidate everything I owned and get a couple of people to chip in.’ She was nodding. ‘And which bank would give an Army captain a mortgage that big?’

‘A nice one?’

She really had no clue. None at all.

‘Saffron, we took out a Mage Mortgage.’

It took a second for it to sink in. ‘No!’

I’d better explain. The biggest Clan of Gnomes in London is Clan Octavius. I’ve met them a few times, including Henry himself, once. But they’re not the oldest clan. Or the richest. That honour goes to Clan Isarn (it means iron in Old Saxon). They’ve been in the City of London since it was a patch of farmhouses built in old Roman ruins, and they own quite a chunk of it. They also came up with the Mage Mortgage.

The idea is very simple. It’s like an ordinary mortgage but you have no equity, and the property is in their name. Your only guarantees are their word and the fact that they will outlive you; they can afford to take the long view. The interest rates are pretty low, and the schedule is flexible.

The downside is obvious. Miss a payment and they don’t mind. Miss several payments – or die – and you lose the lot. The flat would only become ours when we paid off the full amount. So you can see why I was in deep shit. On our wages, Desi and I can barely keep up with the payments, even with Alain’s rent.

Saffron is a good Watch Captain. That meant she asked the one question I was trying to avoid. ‘Who chipped in?’

‘Promise not to tell anyone?’

‘Of course.’

‘Conrad. And Lloyd Flint. Fifty grand each.’

‘Wow. Just wow.’ She moved round. It was quite cosy on that couch. ‘Why would they?’

It was there again, a little bit of jealousy in her voice. Jealous that Conrad would lend me a huge chunk of money. ‘Mina told him to. Apparently there are tax advantages. I wouldn’t know. And Lloyd did it to hide the money from his old clan. They’d never think of him giving it to a human female.’

‘That’s a relief.’

‘Eh? What is?’

‘That Mina knows. What about the Boss?’

‘She knows I’ve got a Mage Mortgage. I wouldn’t dream of getting one without her say-so. She just said, “So long as you know what you’re doing, it’s no skin off my nose.” Looks like I didn’t know what I was doing. How am I gonna tell Desi?’

I don’t know whether she thought it was a rhetorical question or not. She got up and disappeared behind me into the “kitchen”. She came back with a little rosewood box and opened it to show me a selection of fat joints.

‘Sofía’s finest. Medicinal.’

I nodded, and she lit one. When she’d got it going, she passed it to me. Conrad doesn’t often turn a blind eye, but when it comes to his sisters (and Myfanwy), he tries to be flexible. I inhaled. Rumour was truth: very, very good.

Saffron stretched out her legs. ‘You’re not going to tell Desirée. Or Conrad. We’re going to come up with a plan.’

‘All suggestions gratefully received. I’ve been racking me brains since you found me throwing up.’

‘You should know that this is going to be hard for GG as well. Financially, I mean. Not as much as you, but she doesn’t have that sort of money to burn.’

‘So?’

‘So it means she’ll understand. Right. What are your assets, Artefact wise.’

‘Very few. I sold everything I didn’t absolutely need to get my share of the deposit. And you do know there’s a huge shortage of cash.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Haven’t you read Mina’s report into the Flint Hoard?’

She burst out laughing. ‘Noooooo. How can someone with so much life in them get turned on by that stuff. What did she call it?’

I stared hard at the glowing tip of the joint. ‘Liquidity issues in a closed economy. I think. It means that it’s hard to sell stuff because so much money’s tied up in Clan Flint’s First Mine.’

When she took the joint, she held on to my hand for a second, and when she spoke, it was the elevated, clipped tones of her mother. Freaky, or what?

‘This is going to hurt, Victoria, and so it should.’

‘How the hell did you do that? Are you putting together your own act? Impersonations of famous Mages?’

She let go of my hand. ‘Conrad said I should have a real speciality. I’ve been practising for undercover work. Don’t worry, I’m a long way from mastering Geordie. Now tell me what you’ve got. All of it.’

‘No point. I’ve only got two Artefacts worth anything, and one of them’s me Badge of Office.’

‘What’s the other, and why are you being so secretive about it?’

‘You know the Tangi Mace?’ She nodded. ‘I’ve swapped it. For a Mirror of the Damned.’

She drew her legs back and sat up. ‘For real?’

‘For real. No way I can sell that by Tuesday. If ever. I don’t think the Boss would want that getting into the wrong hands.’

‘My cousin is not the wrong hands. You absolutely have to offer it to her in lieu. In fact, she should pay you for it.’

‘She wouldn’t take it.’

‘Yes she bloody well will. Fair payment for full price. She can’t refuse. Not that she would anyway. She’ll bite your hand off.’

‘You reckon?’

‘I do reckon. Do you want me to come along with you?’

‘No. This is one I have to sort for meself.’ I took the joint again. ‘You really think she’ll take it?’

‘Absolutely.’

We shared a moment’s silence, both lost in thought. Part of me wanted to declare myself bankrupt, resign from the Watch and crawl under a stone. It’s what I deserved for being so stupid. I tried to think of anyone else who’d been in such deep shit, and me Dad’s face floated up out of the smoke.

Not literally, of course. In case you didn’t know, my father is a recovering alcoholic. He’s been sober longer than I’ve been alive, actually, and I’ll never forget what he told me about his rock-bottom moment. He had to stand at the end of the road and watch his soon to be ex-wife load herself and the kids into a van and hand over the house keys to a bailiff. He was at the end of the road because his father in law had promised (after a beating) to kill him if he came any closer. Dad told me he’d turned round and walked past an open pub. He’s never touched a drop since.

I was not at rock bottom. If I squinted hard, I could even see that I’d been given a second chance. Sofía’s stuff must be very good if it had me thinking like that.

‘Thanks, Saff. I needed that. Now tell me, what’s the deal with your sister?’

‘I wish I knew. Mother is absolutely petrified that she’ll join the Fleet Sisters full time. Mummy’s doing everything she can to keep one of Emma’s feet in the real world.’ She yawned. A great big one. We lasted another ten minutes before we crashed out, and most of that ten minutes was taken up with us texting Conrad to tell him that he could be proud of both his sisters.

10 – Inheritance

I went to bed early on Sunday evening, partly because I was shattered and partly to avoid Desi. Avoiding Alain had been trickier, and I’d had to tell him I didn’t want to talk about it. He’d shrugged and gone to the gym. On Monday morning, I felt a lot better. A good night’s sleep with no alcohol is a fine thing. I could have gone to Merlyn’s Tower and avoided Desirée, but I felt a lot better about life and about the future. It was a cold, crisp morning, and I’d walked to Salomon’s House and found myself smiling. That feeling lasted until there was a knock on the Watch Room door at eleven o’clock.

‘I hope I’m not intruding,’ said Eseld.

Oh shit. What does she want? ‘No, not at all. It’s coffee time. I’ll get the machine on.’

It was hard to square the sober figure in the black suit with the brilliant blue Hostess of Saturday night. For the first week after she’d started teaching at the Invisible College, Eseld had dressed like a student, then something had happened and she’d come as a lawyer. I’ve heard that the Senior Common Room can be quite bitchy; maybe she’d overheard someone talking about mutton dressed as lamb.

When I’d set the machine going, I turned round and found her staring at me. ‘You don’t want to talk about it, do you?’

I tried for bright and breezy. ‘Not really. I’ve got it under control.’ As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I heard my Dad’s voice. Under control? That’s what they all say. ‘Seriously, Eseld. I’ll sort it. No one needs to know what happened.’ I put a mug of black coffee in front of her and got some milk for mine.

‘Too late, I’m afraid. I got a text from Conrad last night. He said: What are Vicky and Saffron not telling me? You shouldn’t have sent him similar messages at the same time.’

I’d gone red before, with embarrassment. It was rapidly turning to anger. Eseld Mowbray is not my older sister. This is none of her business. ‘What did you tell him?’

She drank some coffee and cracked a smile. ‘I told him that I was not your older sister and that he should ask you.’

I slumped into a chair. ‘Are you a mind reader or what?’

‘Sofía’s going to try mind reading in the next Fiesta. I just thought you should know that he knows.’

‘He hasn’t been in touch with me.’

‘Not with you, but he’ll know everything by now. You mean a huge amount to him and to Mina. If you need a loan, Vicky…?’

I shook my head. ‘That’s really kind of you. I’ll be fine, thanks.’

She crossed her legs. She wasn’t going anywhere. ‘What’s the plan, then?’

I couldn’t help myself. ‘What’s it to you?’

She nodded, as if she’d been expecting the question. ‘If I think you’re okay, I’ll message him and keep him off your back.’

That was unexpectedly generous. ‘What is it with you two, Eseld? I can’t work it out.’

‘There’s nothing to work out. Seriously. I was in a bad way when Dad was murdered, and Conrad held out a hand. That’s it.’

There was a lot more than that, I’m sure. Another day. I told her about the Mirror, and finished by saying that I couldn’t take it to a restaurant, so I was going to ask George if I could visit her at the Kensington Roost.

‘Don’t do that,’ said Eseld. ‘I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you borrow the Kernow room?’

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Try saying yes.’

It was a much better idea than mine. I didn’t say yes, though. I said thank you.

I’ve never been to the Waldorf Hotel before. Why would I? I felt a total fraud asking for the Kernow Room.

‘Of course. It’s Captain Robson, isn’t it?’

‘Aye. Yes.’

‘Would you like a hand with your case?’

‘No thanks. It’s a bit fragile. Not that I don’t trust you.’

‘Of course. Quite wise, madam. I wouldn’t trust me either. If you’d like to come with me…’ I felt an even bigger fraud being escorted there as if I were actual aristocracy.

The Mowbrays have leased a room at the Waldorf for years. There are pictures of Cornwall on the walls (Kernow is the Cornish word for Cornwall, if that makes sense), and maps and stuff. And a blank place where Lord Mowbray’s coat of arms used to hang. The Waldorf does let the room to others, but the Mowbrays have first call. They also get the services of a waitress and a private chef. When I’d told George about it, she was adamant that she would pay half, and I’d let Eseld pay my share. She’d said I could pay for the drinks, and said it with a smirk. ‘You haven’t seen the prices on the wine list yet.’

I sent the waitress for a gin and tonic, then studied the suggested menu. A couple of minutes later, she returned with two gins and Georgina.

‘Could this room be any more masculine?’ said George after we’d air kissed. ‘Are they going to keep it, do you know?’

‘No idea. You look different.’

‘So do you.’

For one thing, George wore her normal glasses – proper geek glasses, with big black frames. They suited her, as did the hand-knitted purple cardigan. I know it was hand-knitted because it came down to her knees. On a normal person, that would be an ankle length coat. Goodness knows where she buys her jeans. We clinked glasses.

‘Cheers,’ I said. I’d have suggested a toast, but I couldn’t think of anything we truly had in common. Other than being fleeced by her mother.

The waitress reappeared with an ice bucket and bottle of Champagne. ‘My treat,’ said George. ‘I ordered it, and I’ll pay. Happy with the menu?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Good.’ She turned to the waitress. ‘How long?’

‘Minimum ten minutes, but as long as you want, madam.’

‘Good. Half an hour suit you, Vicky?’

I was supposed to be in charge here, and she’d taken over completely. Do I care? So long as she takes the Mirror, no I don’t. ‘Sounds great, thanks.’

When the door had been closed, George scanned for magick and was surprised when there wasn’t any.

‘They have all the magick at Mowbray House. They use this for mundane meetings. Or they used to.’

‘Funny lot, the Mowbrays,’ said George. ‘Always kept themselves to themselves. Eseld seems to be breaking with tradition.’

To hear her describing the Mowbrays as a funny lot was a bit of a facer. ‘I don’t really know them.’

‘Hmm. Right, what have you got in that case? Let’s get the boring bit over with.’

One to one, away from her family, George was a different woman. A bit overwhelming, perhaps, but a lot more natural.

‘Give us a hand.’

I unzipped the suitcase and unwrapped the packaging. ‘There you go, George. One Mirror of the Damned. The glass is of unknown origin, but the frame is Belle Epoque French. Made by the Fauré sisters. There’s some very intricate Warding there.’

She gave me a funny look. ‘First, who were you channelling there?’

I stroked the frame. ‘Alfred Clarke. Conrad’s father. He’s an antique dealer, and one night I heard him giving my dad lessons in the patter.’

‘They know each other?’ She looked at me like that was something unheard of.

‘Aye, they do. They met when we were presented with our Military Crosses. Mam and Dad have been to stay with them in Spain.’

‘Well I never.’ She turned her attention, magickal and mundane, to the Mirror. ‘How in the name of the Goddess did you come by this … thing?’

‘Plunder. I can’t say how or where, but I can get a note from the Constable if you want proof of title.’

She was still focused on the suitcase. ‘And now you sound like Cador Mowbray. Can you use this? For the purpose for which it was intended?’

‘Aye.’

She looked up. ‘I can’t take this in settlement, Vicky. It’s worth way more than you owe me.’

My heart sank at that point. She clearly wasn’t going to offer part-exchange and pay the difference. I really didn’t want to force her to accept it, either.

She pushed the glasses up her nose and pulled the cardigan around her. ‘If you can really use it, I’ve got a proposition.’ She looked at me for half a second, then her eyes wandered to the doors. She tucked some hair behind her ear. ‘If you help me with an exorcism, it would be worth a lot more than fifty thousand pounds to me.’

‘An exorcism? You need a Necromancer for that, not me.’

‘Have you met a Necromancer you really trust?’

It could have been me speaking. ‘Roberta Woodhouse,’ I answered.

‘Yah. Fair point. I did ask her, but she’s on maternity leave.’

Woody is the Queen’s Exorcist, the Peculier Necromancer. She’s also pregnant, and unborn children should not be exposed to Spirits or taken on to higher planes past a certain point in their development. I hadn’t realised Woody was that far on.

‘I’d do it myself,’ said George. ‘If I could. I know there’s something there, and if I could just see it, I’d see it off. If you see what I mean.’ She topped up my glass. ‘It really is a fair deal, Vicky. I have a property going to waste, and it’s costing me a fortune. If you help me sort this out, I’ll be a lot more than fifty thou better off.’ She held out her hand. ‘Deal?’

Saffron had been right. I could still salvage something from this. I shook her hand. ‘Deal. When were you thinking?’

‘You’re not really dressed for it, are you?’

I laughed. ‘Is there a dress code for Necromancy? That wasn’t on the syllabus. I do know I’m only doing it sober, though.’

‘Fair point. Tomorrow night. And wear old clothes. The house is in a bit of a state. Especially the underneath, and that’s where we’re going.’ She raised her glass. ‘To teamwork.’

I relaxed a lot after that, and had a very nice evening. So did George. We had a lot to talk about – Julius, her work, my work and all sorts of rubbish. There were two topics that she avoided, though. One of them was Heidi (fair enough), and the other was the haunted house. She said it would make more sense to wait until we got there.

I did find out one thing. During the second bottle, I asked why she was a Gilpin, not a Hawkins or a Marston.

‘The Progenitor refused to say who my father is. The only thing she’d tell me was that I was conceived in the Lake District Particular. At the Gilpin Lodge Hotel. I took the name to spite her, and I’m glad I did. So tell me about the Dragon again.’

‘For the third time, George, I was in the ambulance. Ask Conrad about the effing Dragon when you see him at Christmas.’

By the end, she’d nearly convinced me to accept Celeste’s invitation to the Hawkins Christmas party. I said I’d think about it.

I also asked about the jeans. ‘Tilly runs them up for me,’ was the answer.

Silly me. Why didn’t I think of that?

11 – Coming Home to Roost

There are lots of bits of Notting Hill. Poor bits. Rich bits. Bits in between. Conrad has a flat in one of the bits in between, currently home to Sofía, and that’s where I started on Wednesday evening.

‘Do you really live here? It’s awfully clean and tidy,’ I said. I was mentally still recovering from Saffron’s cottage, so anyone who put their clothes away and washed up more than once a day counted as a domestic goddess in comparison.

‘Sí. I do not want him to think that I am not grateful for what he has done.’

Poor kid. She’ll learn. The gypsy showgirl of Saturday night was gone, replaced by a quiet student in a foreign land. Almost. Sofía is naturally quiet, or rather she’s naturally quiet compared to the people she’s been forced to mix with – compared to Mina, Rachael, Eseld, Myfanwy and even me, she’s got a lot of catching up to do. I was sneaking through the Esoteric Library the other week and I saw her with her real peers, the Aspirants of Salomon’s House, and she was saying something about flamenco and passion in a much louder voice than I’d ever used when I was a student.

She was making me a cup of proper English tea and pretended to focus on the mug in front of her. ‘Conrad wanted to know what happened at Cherwell Roost. To you. I told him nothing, but Rachael told him everything. I asked her why, and she said that you were in his command.’ She looked up. ‘What does that mean? Did I do the right thing?’

I put my hand on her arm. ‘There’s no right thing here, pet. Only what you think.’ I didn’t try to explain about him ordering me about. He hadn’t, but Rachael understood his feelings of responsibility. ‘And it’s all sorted, anyway. I’m doing a job for Georgina tonight. I won’t be homeless.’

‘This is true?’

‘Promise.’

‘Gracias, Vicky.’ She brightened up. ‘Now tell me, how did I do?’

None of her Gitana stuff is here (except the outfit), because she practises at Mowbray House, and I don’t want to know how she does it anyway. I gave her my feedback as member of the audience, and she took it very seriously, another thing she has in common with her half-brother and half-sister. I’d love to meet Mercedes one day – that’s her mam. She sounds a right character.

Sofía can’t believe how much stuff you can get in British delis in winter (or the cost), and we munched happily through a platter of Spanish delicacies until it was time for me to go. There was one point where I had to lie through me teeth, though. She said the other Aspirants reckoned that Chris Kelly’s course was the most boring at Salomon’s House, and was this true?

‘Why no. It’s just hard, that’s all. Unless you’re a natural Geomancer, it can be a challenge.’

Well, it was half a lie. It is a hard subject. It’s also the most boring by a Roman mile, and I choose that analogy carefully. Question 4: Calculate the distance from A to B in Roman miles and evaluate likely locations for a lost Node, C. Mark it on the map and show your reasoning.

Aaaaagh.

Ping.

‘Here’s me Uber. Thanks, Sofía.’

‘Take care, Vicky. Text me when it is done?’

‘Aye. See you later.’

The Uber made the short drive to Lansdowne Road in good time and pulled up outside the address that George had given me as a meeting place. We were definitely in the rich bit here, a point that hadn’t escaped the Uber driver. He looked at my old coat, leggings and suitcase and said, ‘You are the nanny for them? Very famous man.’

‘Is he? I wouldn’t know.’

While I waited, I Googled the address. The driver was right: the guy was famous. A rock guitarist on his fifth wife and third young family. More Alfred Clarke’s era than mine.

There was no mistaking George when she got out of the cab. Nor Julius. What was he doing here? I also recognised what George was wearing. ‘British Army combat uniform, desert issue,’ I said. ‘Where did you get that from? And why?’

‘Because it fits and it’s almost indestructible. I saw Saffron’s and had to have one.’

George and I had kissed; Julius went for a handshake. ‘Thought I’d tag along and keep an eye on her,’ he said. ‘Good to see you again so soon, Vicky.’

I smiled to let him know the feeling was mutual; I was too nervous to put it in words.

‘This way,’ said George, turning and striding along the road. After a couple of paces, Jay grabbed her arm to slow her down and made her wait for me. He walked in front of her from then on.

‘See that one over there?’ she said. ‘Went for six million last year.’

‘Bloody hell,’ was all I could say.

‘That one’s on the market for eight million, and that one there, the detached one, that went for twenty million. Can you believe it?’

I said nothing. I could absolutely believe it. She was getting quite worked up about something, and I don’t think it was the iniquity of London property prices. She turned right into a street that was actually more of a mini hill. She escaped Jay’s marshalling and strode ahead. When she stopped suddenly, I wondered why.

‘There. My inheritance and my millstone.’

‘Oh. Right. I see what you mean.’ Amidst all the grandeur, this place stuck out like an amputated thumb in a tray of canapés.

For one thing, it was modern, if you think the 1960s are modern. On a big plot, sloping up to the left, someone had erected a four storey concrete block of flats with no redeeming features whatsoever. The white paint was streaked black, the balconies were tiny and the windows were mean. The last time I saw a building so ugly, I was six and we were on holiday in Torquay. It was our hotel. We lasted one night before Mam checked us out and told Dad he could follow her or get divorced, and that was a point I made to George.

‘I know. I’m sorry, Vicky. It was my great-grandfather’s idea. He thought it would be easier if the old place was buried and we had flats on top. He didn’t have much capital, but that doesn’t excuse the ugliness. Didn’t work, either.’

‘What’s going on?’ I said.

George was silent, staring at the building, and it was Jay who took up the story. ‘Have a look at the name. You can just see it over the entrance.’

The front door was at the left side, up in the air, sort of. As you tracked right, a great concrete plinth was exposed. At the other end to the door, the ground floor actually was in mid-air. I peered at the tatty concrete porch. ‘The Roost. Not the Kensington Roost, then?’ That’s the name of the Hawkins’ London place: Kensington Roost.

Jay laughed. ‘Not quite. This is the original Roost. Our ancestral home, or what’s left of it.’

‘Most of it, actually,’ piped up George. ‘It’s all underneath.’ Now that the secret was out, she got her focus back. ‘And it’s possessed. Has been since Jeremiah Hawkins moved out. For two hundred years, the original place was walled off and Warded, but something started to go wrong after the last war. As you can imagine, word got around.’

‘Why is this your problem, George?’

‘Because my stupid great-grandfather thought he could see an opportunity. Celeste’s grandmother, Margaret, was head of the family then, and she was happy to give it away. Michael built the flats and tried to rent them out. No one lasted more than a year, and it was closed down for a bit. The block passed to Heidi, and she gave it to me on my twenty-fifth birthday.’ She turned to look at me properly. ‘You know a place is bad when the drug dealers won’t stay there.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I tried ultra-short lets and had the Drug Squad on to me. Three of their major suspects had moved in, and they wanted my co-operation for surveillance. Before they could get the operation going, the dealers fled. That was a year ago.’

‘What are we talking about here?’

‘I don’t know, but it’s not a Ghost. Shall we?’

Exorcism 101: Ghosts, Spectres, Spirits and Dæmons.

Ghosts have no choice about being Ghosts. They’re poor, shadowy things and don’t last long after they die unless there’s a source of Lux on the property. I’ve seen a couple, and even helped one of them to disperse. Most of them just want peace, and that means dissolving them. Sad, but there you go. The other lot are very different.

Conrad’s ancestor, Thomas Clarke, was a Spectre. They are complete individuals but still tied to a source of Lux, unlike a Spirit, who used to be human but now roams freely through the Spirit Realm. Lucas of Innerdale, for example.

I must say that I don’t like the word Dæmon. A lot of Mages can’t be bothered with the æ and write Demon. Not me. A Dæmon may or may not have once been human but is now a powerful creature of light who might manifest as a human but is most definitely not human. I’d forgotten the word taxonomy until I was doing my research this afternoon, but in the taxonomy of Quantum Magick, angels, Revenants, Djinn and actual demons from hell are all classed as Dæmons. So is Nimue. So is the Dryad who lives at Linbeck Hall.

George had sealed the whole building with Wards and locked the doors with magick. She passed the keys and the tokens to Julius, then continued rummaging in her enormous Chanel tote bag. I wish I could afford a Chanel clutch, never mind a tote that I could take to exorcisms. ‘Here,’ she said, offering me a handful of something fabric.

It turned out to be the dust bag for the tote she was using. ‘Put the mirror in there. Saves you wheeling a suitcase. It’s a bit cramped down below.’

‘Have you been?’

‘Only once. When I was eighteen, the progenitor took me in the hope that we could do the exorcism ourselves. We couldn’t.’

This was news to Julius. He had his hand on the outside doors, ready to push. He stopped and said, ‘But you thought that Vicky could succeed where Heidi failed? I don’t know whether she should be flattered or very, very worried. I’m definitely worried.’

George waved him off. ‘Not relevant, Jay. The reason we failed is that the bloody thing played hide and seek. Couldn’t nail it down. It didn’t attack, either.’ Her eyes unfocused for a second. ‘That was the last magick we attempted together. Hmph. Hurry up, Jay.’

She’d messaged me this morning to say that she’d forgotten about the power being off, and could I bring Lightsticks? I passed her one and let her go first when the door was unlocked. The light did nothing to improve it.

Michael Hawkins (if that was his last name) had included a proper lobby in his design, complete with concierge desk. I think the last concierge clocked off in 1968, judging by the state of the desk. I shivered against the damp, penetrating cold and faint tremor of Lux coming up through the polished concrete floor. Ugh.

I started unpacking and asked how the haunting had manifested itself.

‘You know, usual stuff. Sense of impending doom at night. Pets run away and are never seen again. Moving shadows in the stairwell. Blood running down the walls.’ She giggled. ‘That one turned out to be rust leaking from a waste pipe. There was an overdose, too. Could have been coincidence.’

I slid the mirror into the soft cotton dust case. ‘Let’s get it over with.’

You had to walk the full length of the building to get to the staircase. A full height window ended the corridor, now in mid-air, like I said. The world of Lansdowne Road’s multi-million pound houses could have been on another planet, not the end of the street. I sneezed. Mould spores. Double ugh.

To the right were the stairs up and a cleaner’s cupboard was on the left, its door ajar. George pulled the door back, blocking the picture window, and held up her Lightstick. It was bigger than I expected inside, with a low sink for emptying buckets and plenty of room to store mops and tools. On the facing wall was something bold, bright and shocking: graffiti.

The rest of the building was filthy, smelly and dilapidated, but someone had brought their spray cans into this cupboard to create a jelly monster, all mouth and suckers. Put that in a comic and you’d have readers turning over in disgust, then turning back to double check what they’d seen.

‘That doesn’t look good, George,’ I said.

She sniffed, then pulled a big hankie out of her camouflage pocket and blew her nose. ‘It’s nothing. The guy probably took meth and sat down on the stairs. This says more about his unconscious than it does about what’s underground. Stand back.’

Jay shot me a look. ‘You don’t have to do this,’ he whispered.

‘Yes, I do,’ I whispered back. ‘But thanks for worrying.’

He leaned so that our shoulders were touching. Strong shoulders. ‘That’s the really worrying part. I’ve suddenly realised that I’d rather be cleaning my bathroom than standing here. You must be used to this.’

‘Not really. That reminds us. Here.’ I passed him a packet.

‘Sweets? Low blood sugar?’

‘No. Curried giant worms. I’ve got a spare packet.’

He didn’t know what to say. I often have that effect on men.

‘Shut up, you two. I’m trying to concentrate.’

He shoved the worms in his pocket. I’d brought the extra packet for George, but I don’t think she’s either superstitious or inclined to listen to the gods. We stood in nervous silence and waited for George to unpick the Wards, Glamours and locks that were hiding the door to the basement. Of course, what she hadn’t said was that the graffiti artist must have a very strong latent Gift to have picked this spot to express his nightmare.

Smoke. I could smell smoke from somewhere. Not the foul odour of the Clarke tobacco habit, but the deeper, acrid smell of a burning building. I looked around at the stairs up and the locked doors to the flats on the corridor. Jay was getting it too.

‘Here we go,’ said George. She grappled with the big handle on what looked like the door to a cold store – steel and chunky. And bigger than the opening in the room. When she’d loosened the handle, it pushed inwards. ‘Pass me a Lightstick.’

I passed her one, and the smell of stale smoke got stronger. When she raised the light, I could see concrete steps going down and to the left. Without any hesitation, George set off. Julius stood aside and said, ‘I’ll take the rear. I’m relying on you to know what you’re doing.’ He said it lightly, but his eyes gave him away.

I followed George through the door, down four deep steps and stopped on a landing that turned left. ‘Bloody hell,’ I said as a wave of vertigo hit me.

Suddenly, I was in mid-air, underground but looking down on the roof of a cottage, entirely encased by the foundations of the flats above, and obviously the source of the smoke.

Bare, blackened rafters were exposed. A few tiles clung to the edges, but most of the roof was a gaping burnt-out hole, as was the shadowy floor to the upper storey. Not that there’d been much room between floor and ceiling upstairs.

Downstairs from here, of course. A metal walkway sloped from the landing platform to meet the top of the stone wall of the house. A walkway without handrails. George was already halfway across.

‘Bloody hell,’ said Jay. ‘I wonder if this is what the inside of the Chernobyl reactor is like.’

‘Eh?’

‘Nuclear core, all sealed in.’

‘I flippin’ hope not!’

‘What are you waiting for?’ said George.

‘One at a time, okay?’ I said to Jay.

‘Of course.’

After ten feet, I wanted to get down and crawl. I took a breath and stared at the chimney, straight ahead. Move, Vicky. Deeper breath. Here we go.

‘Pass the bag,’ said George.

‘What? Oh.’

I was there, and she handed me down to bare boards that didn’t give way. Just. I took the mirror back, and she helped Jay down, too. Luckily for us, the internal staircase was made of stone. As soon as I put my feet on the step, I felt the magick.

I sucked in air through my teeth. ‘Oosh. There’s something down here alright. I can feel it leaking out. I’m getting a rhythm through me feet, George, and that’s not good.’

‘Could be the Tube,’ she said dismissively. ‘Doesn’t matter anyway.’

The ground floor had been stripped of everything but a kitchen table, pushed into the corner. In the huge fireplace were the twisted remnants of some sort of cooking range, bits of iron bent out of shape. If I had to guess, I’d say that the fire had poured out of that fireplace and hit the roof, because the flagstones in front of the hearth were black and broken.

‘What the hell is this place?’ I asked.

‘Good question,’ said Jay.

‘The estate manager’s cottage, from when this was all countryside and London was a place on the horizon. In 1725, Abraham Hawkins married a Witch. Their son, Jeremiah, got into the Invisible College and the rest is documented. It’s what happened here that there’s some mystery about. It had something to do with Lord Deaykin, that’s all we know.’

‘Who?’

‘It was his land, from here to the north west.’

The windows in the cottage were tiny, and something from a history lesson popped back into me head: window tax. Just as glass production increased, the government slapped a tax on windows. Typical. I held up the light, and flinched back. The foundations of the block of flats were a featureless concrete blank, about a metre from the windows.

‘Have you got the hammer, Jay?’ said Georgina.

He was wearing a padded coat, and took out a big claw hammer from inside. Good job he hadn’t been stopped by the police. He also had a long nail, and he hammered that into the door frame; the door itself was gone. ‘Why don’t you hang the Mirror there?’ suggested George.

‘Why?’

‘Make it a lot easier to see the trapdoor. You stand underneath and move the mirror while we look in it.’

‘Oh. Right.’

I tested the nail for strength and carefully hung the mirror. ‘Ready?’

‘Let’s go,’ said George. Jay said nothing.

I worked through the sequence to activate the Mirror and paused before the last step. ‘How did you find the trapdoor when you were here with Heidi?’

‘What? We didn’t. I told you.’

That’s not at all what she’d told me. I know George was only eighteen, but with her and Heidi together, they should have been able to find a wooden trapdoor in a stone floored building, no matter how well it was hidden. No point in arguing. Not now. I pressed Medusa’s face, and the mirror sprung into life. I looked into the glass and saw … nothing.

Nothing I wasn’t expecting.

‘Can I use it?’ said George, a little nervously.

‘Aye. So long as I’m still linked to it magickally, anyone can use it. Here.’

I stepped aside and she came up. She had to bend at the knees because Jay had thoughtfully put the nail at a good height for me. She moved around to get a good look at the corners of the room, and in doing so I could see her reflection, naked of makeup and hair products. She was greyer than I am, and a scar ran down from her ear to her throat, an old scar, but a big wound at some time.

‘Damn,’ she said, stepping back.

‘Let us have another look.’

I repeated her manoeuvre, and there was still nothing. The windows were dark, and the floor looked cleaner, and that was it. Oh, and the table looked cleaner, too.

Table.

How come I could see the table? It shouldn’t be there, not in the Spirit Realm. That must be deliberate, a point I made to the others.

‘Let me see,’ said George, almost elbowing me out of the way. ‘Stupid girl,’ she muttered to herself. I bet Heidi said that to her a lot. ‘What’s that for, I wonder? Jay?’

He took his turn. ‘All I’ve got is that the floor looks bloody solid on this plane, too.’

He stepped aside, and while they paced around feeling things, I stared and stared at the ghostly room in the Mirror. I took a long look at the fireplace and noticed a difference there, too. Something to do with the ironwork. I stepped back and thought about it a bit more. And then it came to me.

‘Conrad would have spotted it straight away,’ I said.

‘What? Spotted what?’

I pointed to the fireplace wall. ‘He always knows which way is north, and which way we’re facing. We may be on the old ground floor, but we’re still on a hill. That wall is built against the bank of the hill. No windows, see? And four holes in the stone that match the spacing of the table legs, if you stand it on end. You make your own trapdoor.’

‘Nooo. Surely not,’ said George. She checked the Mirror and went to the fireplace. She ran her fingers over the stone, then the legs of the table. ‘Give us a hand, Jay.’

They tipped it over and discovered that the underside was coated in something. And painted with Runes. Who looks under a table? ‘Well, I’ll be blowed,’ was her conclusion. A pause. ‘Can either of you understand those runes?’

She looked at Jay when she said that, and he was already running his fingers over the cracked pigments. It was his family, so he should know the house style. He looked up. ‘It’s expecting a signal fire in the fireplace. What do you reckon, Vicky?’

I glanced at the Work laid out on the boards. ‘Aye. You’re right, Jay. And it’s going to open a portal to the Spirit Realm. Are you sure about this, George?’

‘I’ll take a quick look, and if we can’t handle it, we’ll make a tactical retreat. Is that the right expression?’

I looked at her in her combats and wondered what was going through her head. At least she hadn’t given herself any fake regimental or rank insignia. ‘Actually, George, the correct term is run like fuck. Either will do.’

‘Right. Anyone got a candle?’

I sighed. ‘I have, but it’s in me suitcase.’

‘I’ll get it,’ said Jay, flashing me a smile. Before I could argue, he was off up the steps. Not that I was gonna argue. The fewer times I had to cross that walkway, the better.

‘Give me a hand,’ said George. ‘We’ll get the table in position while we wait.’

We heaved and lifted, and got the table in position, like a sort of giant pre-industrial plug, ready to push into the socket. A clatter of shoes on the walkway and Jay was back. ‘Shall I?’ he asked.

‘Go for it,’ said George.

Enscribers are never knowingly without pen and paper. Or a penknife. Another reason to avoid being stopped by the police. He carved the sigil from the table into the candle with swift strokes, then inked in the carving. It had taken seconds, but it was beautifully neat. ‘Nice work,’ I said.

He flourished the candle and placed it in the hearth. ‘Anyone got a light?’

George was expecting this, and bent down. She touched the wick between finger and thumb. It burst into flame in a controlled flare; a lot of Artificers have secondary skills with Pyromancy.

There was no putting it off, now. We had to go for it.

You might think that with a real fire burning, so would the table. That’s not how it worked. The Work was performed with the table at a distance, then it was moved quickly into place. By then, the table wouldn’t be a table any more, it would be a door. A door to the Spirit Realm.

‘Why are youse two looking at me?’ I said.

‘You’re the Sorcerer,’ said George. ‘It’s more your cup of tea than ours.’

‘I didn’t sign up for this,’ I muttered. George rolled her eyes. I raised my voice. ‘One of you shout out the components.’

Jay looked embarrassed on my behalf. ‘It doesn’t work like that, Vicky. You need to stand here, with your back to the fire. Make the transition, and we’ll push the table through you.’

‘What! You’d better not push us into the fire.’

George took up position. ‘Then you’d better get it right first time.’ She said it with a smile, but again, I’m sure it was what Heidi had said to her. A lot.

I climbed round the table legs and put a Lightstick in a sconce over the fire. There was plenty of Lux leaking out from the chimney breast to keep it going.

There are two ways of looking at what I did next. You could either say that I’d aligned the essence of the table with the higher realm, or you could say that I’d adjusted the atomic resonance. Either way, it’s impossible to explain. You look at the Sigils, you concentrate on the hue of the burning candle (a rather acid puce colour), and you fold Lux into the table until it glows the same colour. You can either do it or you can’t. Today, I could do it.

When the table was glowing, George counted down from three. They lifted it together and moved forward. I had to close my eyes when it was about to hit me. Instead of being knocked over, I felt the drag as it passed through, and then it was gone. I opened my eyes and pivoted. No more table, no more fireplace. Just a black hole.

I was backing away when George said, ‘Right. Won’t be long.’

I started to say, ‘Wait,’ but she’d gone. I rushed and grabbed the Mirror, and held it so I could look over my shoulder. I nearly dropped it when I saw what was on the other side. ‘Jay! Quick! After her!’

I wanted to be first, but I had to put the mirror down, and by then he was already through the portal.

Jeremiah Hawkins had done the job well enough, but nothing lasts forever. Inside the hillside was a chamber, and inside the chamber was an Enchanted Circle, and inside the circle was a Triangle of the Art. Inside the triangle was the problem.

The chamber was big. Very big. Even so, the roof was a low dome, barely four metres at the high point, and not nearly big enough for the Dæmon to spread his wings fully. Didn’t stop him trying, though.

Most pictures of Dæmons give them a loincloth; most Dæmons don’t bother. This one didn’t. Not that he had anything to hide. And when I say he, I’m going on the big jaw, enormous shoulders and hands like shovels rather than the equipment under where the loincloth would be. Or lack of equipment. And that was the scariest thing. It’s only the top Dæmons who don’t bother with sex organs. Why would they? They don’t need them.

And then there was the wings. Huge great things sprouting from the back of his shoulders, with giant feathers and hooks facing forward. The ends draped on the ground, penned in and prevented from opening by the roof and the boundary of the triangle.

All of this I got in an instant. I also got an image of Georgina, flicking in an out of focus, away to the left; Jay had gone right and was trying to see what was happening. There was a gap of about two metres between the wall of the chamber and the edge of the Enchanted Circle. I went right, too, and stood next to Jay.

‘Can you see her?’ he said.

‘No. There’s something going on. Don’t know what. I wish I’d brought the Mirror, now.’

The Dæmon was focusing completely on George and ignoring us. I opened my Sight fully and tried to see what was happening to George. That also meant that the Dæmon started to change into something closer to its essential shape. Wings turned into waves and the giant body became a standing whirlpool of water. The circle became a rampart of earth, and behind the circle, I could sense the power of air and water mixing into a storm at sea. On our side, Georgina had flames coming out of her, and so did the inner triangle. Made sense: contain air and water with fire and earth. The earth was as solid as when Jeremiah had raised it; the fire not so much.

George was standing where an apex of the triangle touched the solid earth of the rampart, and she was trying to reinforce the triangle of fire. Trying and failing. A good Necromancer or an average Summoner would be packing up their tools by now, but she’d done something wrong. The Dæmon was being clever: instead of trying to drown the fire, he was feeding it. As much as George tried to stabilise it, he was adding Lux and tipping it out of control. He’d had long enough to study it, after all.

‘Jay. The Dæmon’s going to push the fire through.’

‘What fire?’

‘George! Give it up! You’re making it worse!’ I shouted. I moved further right, past Jay to the next apex. ‘Take my hand.’ He did so, and I put my right hand on the earth rampart.

‘Shit,’ he said. ‘Help her.’

‘Work with me. Help me find the rhythm in the fire wards.’

I struggled to see the underlying structure of the containing fire. It comes as a little blue light that moves along the lines of orange flame. When it’s regular, the fire replicates itself and does its job. This one was anything but regular, speeding up and occasionally moving backwards. When it got to us, I tried to push it round, like mentally moving a roundabout at the swing park. All that did was bring us to the Dæmon’s attention.

He continued to stoke the fire, but now the water spout was facing our corner of the triangle.

‘Who are you?’ came the voice from the storm.

‘As you are bound, I command your name,’ said Jay, still synching Lux through our hands.

‘I am Focalor. You will command me no more. I will bring down the Hawk, and if you are still here, I will come for you.’

‘She’s losing it,’ said Jay.

The perfect circle of the earth rampart was bending and distending as the point of fire pushed it back, and George had nowhere to go. She redoubled her efforts, and nothing happened. In a few moments, that fire would burst through the earth and spear her like an instant kebab. And she knew it. I had no choice. There was only one thing I could do.

I let go of the earth and touched my Badge of Office. I ignored the Sigil of Nimue and grabbed the power underneath. My Artefact is shaped like a pickaxe for two reasons. One is to honour me Dad, the ex-miner, the other because it has the schematic of a magickal pick, a sort of virtual spike. I started to shape the spike in my free hand, and Jay yanked at me.

‘No! You can’t do that.’

‘Yes I can. Watch me.’

I gripped his hand, drawing Lux and putting everything I had into that spike, and then I took a great swing at the rampart. Earth split, the circle shattered and the triangle flared up before it vanished.

George swayed and collapsed to her knees. There was a burnt patch on her uniform, right over her heart. I’d only just made it in time. ‘Run like fuck!’ I shouted.

Focalor had also been knocked back, but not as much as I’d hoped. At least he looked human again. Free of confinement, he started to spread his wings.

Jay had let go of my hand and joined in the shout. ‘Georgie! Move!’

She staggered to her feet and started to move. Too late. Focalor was ready to unleash something, and she was still well within range. I looked at Jay, and he looked at me. This time it was him who grabbed my hand and drew Lux.

A great wave of water burst from the Dæmon, like an explosion in a reservoir dam. It cascaded across the floor, ready to smash Georgina into the wall like a twig. My eyes blurred as Jay took more Lux and did something instinctive. He used the howling wind that accompanied the tsunami to shape it, to move the force of water to the right. My sight cleared at the moment when the wave hit George. Instead of smearing her into the wall, it tossed her back out of the portal. Focalor was weakened for a second, and I didn’t need Jay’s pull on my hand to follow George through the portal, wading through water and bursting into the ruined shell of the Roost.

The transition back was painful and abrupt, and only possible because the water had bridged the gap between worlds. The tidal wave of force had also pushed the table aside and damaged the portal. A blinding light flashed in front of me. I tripped, fell and splashed into a foot of very real water. It was bloody freezing, I’m telling you, and went up me coat before I could stand up.

Jay kept his footing somehow, and dashed over to George. I got on my knees, then upright, and water ran off me in a river. I splashed over to where he was holding George’s head up and trying to stop her thrashing around. Her left arm did not look good. From where she was lying, I’m thinking she’d been smashed into the door frame of the old cottage.

‘Easy, GG. It’s okay,’ said Jay. ‘We’re out.’

Her breathing was short stabs. I recognise that sound. It comes when you’ve a chest injury. A bad one.

She swallowed and tried to cough. I could see the scream in her eyes but she couldn’t get the breath to make a sound. She tried again. ‘Coming for me. Coming for the Hawk. Payback.’

I looked at Jay, and he looked at me. ‘Shit. What do we do?’

The water was still pouring through the damaged portal and flowing over the shattered tiles. It was a couple of inches deep in the doorway where it exited to the gods know where. I had one stupid idea and no others. I looked at his eyes again. Fear, but not panic. More like resignation.

‘Lay her down,’ I said.

‘What?’

‘Just do it. Gently, but do it. And trust me, Jay. For George’s sake, trust me.’

He lowered her spine first, then her head, until it lay in the water. I tried not to look at her as I ripped through the burnt uniform and placed my hand on her chest. She tried to grab my wrist until Jay put his knee on her right arm. I felt the heat of her skin, and then I felt down, into her chest.

Pain and panic exploded into my head as I felt for her heart. I gritted my teeth and dug deeper. There. Under the pounding rush of blood was the wiring. It had been done to me, and now I did it to her. I squeezed the pulse of electricity in the nerve, and the pulse in her heart slowed and stopped. Lux flashed all over, and I heard Jay whimper in pain. She tried to force the issue, instinct directing her magick. I gripped harder, and she flopped back. Dead.

‘What have you done?’ said Jay. ‘What have you done!’

‘Shh. He’s coming.’

I collapsed away from Georgina and landed on my arse in the stream. It was starting to back up from outside now. I turned to the portal, and one last gush of water heralded Focalor’s arrival.

He shimmered blue and white, and his wings were smaller now. He looked down at us and raised his arms for a second. ‘So fragile,’ he whispered. ‘So fragile. A shame. I had so much to tell her, and my language would have been the finest pain.’

I somehow managed to get to my feet. ‘You have evened the score. You are done here.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said the Dæmon.

I had just enough energy left to summon another spike from my pickaxe. The Dæmon saw it and moved aside. I didn’t want to hit him, I wanted that portal, and I got it. The Work of magick bridging the two worlds collapsed, and the flow of water dried up. As did Focalor’s source of Lux.

‘Why?’ said Jay.

The Dæmon thought he was talking to him. I didn’t.

Focalor answered. ‘They penned me. Took me at sea and dragged me here, far from the ocean. For that, I have a debt of pain. It is only partially paid.’

‘Aye, well, you’ve had it from this generation. Seek Jeremiah Hawkins in your own world for the rest.’

‘That I shall.’ He looked at Jay. ‘You should pray to your god that I find him.’

The Dæmon became transparent and vanished back to his own realm, way up the energy scale. I scanned the room. Nothing. Right, time to pray.

I span round and dropped to my knees. ‘Whatever Lux you’ve got, Jay, I need it now.’ He reached for my hand. ‘No, on me shoulders. I need both hands for this.’

I felt his presence, and then his Lux as I put my right hand back on George’s chest. It was already white as the blood sank away. I wrestled my left hand up my top to find my Badge and tried to look at two things at once. With my right hand, I scrabbled through dying tissue to find George’s heart. With my left, I dug inside myself to find my own pulse.

My own beat came first, but I couldn’t find the nerve inside George. I radiated Lux to see if it lit up, and I got a flash of something. I ignored it and traced down her spine. Down and out. There. Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat. Come on, George. Beat. Beat. Beat/Beat. Beat/Beat. Beat/Beat. Done it. And no scars.

I let go and splashed down into the water. George’s chest shuddered into life, frantic for air. Jay lifted her up again and she sipped tiny mouthfuls of oxygen. It was a good thing she was still unconscious.

‘How the hell did you do that?’ said Jay.

‘Morbid curiosity. Someone did it to me, and I had to find out how. I was in therapy, and the therapist said I needed to know. For closure. Get George’s phone out. She’ll die soon if we don’t get her out of here.’

‘We can’t carry her, and no ambulance will get past those Wards.’

‘Which is why you’re going to ring Eseld Mowbray and I’m going to ring Sofía Clarke. They’re both at home and can be here in five minutes at this time of night. Morning. Between us, we’ll do it.’

‘How?’

‘That table will make a handy stretcher.’ I already had my phone in my (shaking) hand. ‘Get a move on, Jay. I’m freezing me tits off here.’

12 – “To see oursels as others see us”

Saffron summoned me to the hospital at six o’clock the next evening. I was ready, and I nipped round the corner to Russell Square. Lot easier to get a black cab there.

I’d had the medical report from Jay while George was still in A&E and while I was still drying off and warming up at Mowbray House (which is very nice, by the way). Jay had gone with her in the ambulance and she was still unconscious while they did the X-rays and scans. A broken humerus (upper arm bone), three cracked ribs and a torn shoulder was the diagnosis.

Saffron met me at the top of a staircase to give me safe passage through to George. ‘I’m the Duty Hawkins,’ she said.

‘Taking it in turns?’

She nodded and pressed a buzzer on the door to the Critical Care Unit. I shuddered inside. I’ve spent far too long inside those.

‘Jay stayed until four o’clock. They told him he had to go or they’d admit him for shock and hypothermia.’ She looked uncertain and paused before carrying on. ‘Emma took over at that point. First time she’s volunteered for anything in ages. And she’s coming back at midnight. We’ll stand down at dawn. If Focolar’s coming back, it’ll be tonight or never.’

A wise precaution. The door buzzed, and she pulled the handle. Before she could open it fully, I said, ‘Heidi?’

Saffron looked down the corridor. ‘Jay called and messaged her. She came at half past six, as soon as she’d checked her phone. Emma said that she went into the room, spoke a couple of words and came straight out with a hurt look on her face. Didn’t stop to say anything. No one’s had the courage to ask Georgina what was said.’

We went through and down to the control centre. I had to sign in and promise not to be there more than five minutes. I only got in at all because Saffron had pulled the National Security card.

She gave me the medical update: George was going to be monitored for cardiac problems for one more night, then moved to a private hospital. In a couple of days, she’d have surgery on her shoulder and arm.

‘How is she in herself?’

I hate that question, but I couldn’t think of a better way to put it.

‘Very weak. Barely spoken. She said she was saving her energy until you could get here.’ Saffron said the last bit with a raised eyebrow. I just smiled.

I’d spent the day on autopilot. Once I’d woken up in Eseld’s guest room, that is. I’d briefed the Boss and messaged the Clerkswell Coven WhatsApp group, then gone to sleep in the afternoon. I sneaked into George’s room quietly, in case she was asleep. Her eyes opened and she waved me over.

You might think her first words would be gratitude. I wasn’t expecting that, and I was right.

‘You know, don’t you?’ she said.

‘Aye. Couldn’t help it.’

‘Did you see everything?’

‘Yes, I did. I thought at first that Heidi had been raped by her own father, then I realised it was more complicated. You’re her clone, aren’t you? With modifications.’

She slumped back and started to cry. I reached out tentatively and took her hand. She gripped mine and squeezed. When the tears got worse, I got her a tissue and let go of her hand. She wiped her eyes and grabbed me again straight away.

‘That’s what she told me at first,’ she said. ‘About her father. I didn’t find out until later what she’d done. Or what someone did for her. Or to her. Yes, Vicky, I am Heidi Marston’s double-egg clone.’ She gave me a vicious smile. ‘She paid for it, though. I was well overdue and doing damage when she went for a Caesarean. They had to do a hysterectomy at the same time. Served her right.’

I winced, inside and out. For a teenage Heidi Marston to do what she did was bad (if she was in on it). For her to lose her uterus was a personal tragedy, and I felt for her. I really did. For George to think of it as early revenge was to compound tragedy with misery. What a mess.

‘Are you going to tell anyone?’ she asked.

‘Nothing in writing, and I’m not gonna blab. It’s your life, George.’

‘Gina. When it’s just you and me, can you call me Gina? Please.’

‘Aye. Of course.’

‘Thank you, Vicky. Thanks for saving my life. And Jay’s. And everything else. Thank you. How can I repay you?’

‘The same way I repaid Conrad and Myfanwy: by saving you. It’s something you can only pay forward, not pay back.’

‘I see what you mean. Anyway, I’m calling Rachael Clarke tomorrow.’

‘Eh?’

‘Gonna put the Roost into a private company and give you a ten percent stake. When we’ve finished redeveloping it, you’ll get ten percent of the finished value or sale price, whichever is higher.’

‘I can’t…’

‘Yes you can. Now shut up and go. No, wait. Are you seeing Jay?’

I bent down to kiss her. ‘Aye. Now take care, Gina.’

She was asleep before I left the room.

On the way back to Bloomsbury, I mulled over what she’d said. It explained a lot about both George – Gina – and her mother. It was a miracle they could be in the same room without killing each other. And when it really mattered, Heidi had come along, even though she knew she’d be sent packing. That meant something.

I was standing in our hallway, hanging up my coat when the smell hit me: curry. Aromatic curry smells, heavy on cumin. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was, and kicked off my shoes, letting them fall where they wanted. Inside the living room, someone had spread takeaway dishes over the coffee table. Curry is not Alain’s thing; was he being extra thoughtful?

‘There you are!’

It was Mina. She put down some cutlery and came over to give me a hug.

‘What are you doing here?’ I said.

‘As soon as I heard, I jumped on a plane.’ She sat down. ‘That is, as soon as I heard that Desirée had gone to Wales. I love Alain, too, but you need a girlfriend tonight.’

‘I’m not gonna say I’m not thrilled you’re here, but what about Conrad?’

‘He’s a lot better. He’s gone off to Mallorca with his father.’ She patted the cushion next to her, and I flopped down.

‘What are they up to? Do I want to know?’

‘Believe it or not, they’ve gone on Watch business.’ She put a plate in front of me and handed me a large glass of wine. Proper large. ‘I’ll tell you later. Now tell me everything.’

‘It was pretty grim. A bloody close run thing, as Conrad would say. I’ve just come back from the hospital, but I suppose you know that.’

She was waving her delicate little hand in front of her face, palm to me. Next to Gina, Mina really would look like the female of a different species.

‘No monsters over food. I want to know all about the Fiesta and about Cherwell Roost. And Julius Hawkins. Sofía said you really hit it off with him.’

I nearly snorted into my wine. ‘Are there no secrets with you lot? And how the flip does she know?’

‘You’re a member of the Clerkswell Survivors Club, Vicky, specifically the Bridesmaids Branch. We have no secrets. Why are there no pictures?’

‘What are your plans?’

She started piling food on my plate and didn’t answer until I’d started to eat.

‘That’s the other reason I’m here. To help you get your Christmas decorations up. It is December already and you have nothing.’ I went to say something, but she held up her hand again. ‘Everything can wait until we’ve eaten.’

At the end of a very long evening, with copious amounts of wine, it was my turn to ask a question. ‘Okay, Mina, if there’s no secrets, what is it with Conrad and Eseld?’

She put her glass down and burped. She does that when there’s only girls around. ‘She is someone he trusts with his life. They have shared things I will never share with him. She is striking, confident and English. She rides horses and does magick and is mega rich.’

‘True, but she has really big shoulders, you know.’

‘Thank you for saying that. I knew I was right to come here.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘As for what I think, I think that Hannah is right.’

That wasn’t the drink talking. Mina is capable of 180 turns in conversation when stone cold sober. You get used to it.

‘Is she?’

‘She is. She says that sometimes the gods test us, and Eseld has been sent by Ganesh to test me. Or to test Conrad. I’m not sure which.’ She picked up her glass. ‘And that is all I have to say on the subject.’

‘Julius, this is Mina Desai.’

‘Namaste, Mister Hawkins.’

I saw the look on Jay’s face when he realised that we weren’t alone and who was with me. Mina had slept over after the curry night on Thursday, then come back this afternoon – Saturday – after spending the day at the temple with her favourite priest, Mr Joshi. She didn’t even try to pretend that casting an eye over Julius was not part of her motivation.

‘Don’t worry, Jay,’ I said. ‘She’s not coming with us. She happened to be here helping decorate the Christmas tree. The sooner you show me the images, the sooner we can get out.’

He looked slightly bewildered for a second, then pulled himself together. ‘Namaste, Ms Desai. I’ve heard a lot about you.’

Mina bowed again. She’d got the full saree on tonight and had come over all modest hostess, even though this wasn’t her house. Not only that, she’d spent as long getting ready as I had. It was fun, though. And she did my nails. Hands and feet. I was more relaxed than I’d expected to be.

‘I have raided Sofía’s sherry supply,’ said Mina. ‘I shall go and pour you a glass.’ She closed the living room door behind her, and Jay and I were on our own.

He came in and gave me a kiss, then stood back and took a look. ‘You look gorgeous, Vicky. Truly gorgeous.’ And he meant it. I hope. He paused. ‘Thank you.’

I stepped forwards and put a finger on his lips. ‘No. Not tonight, Jay. One day, you can tell me how you pulled that stunt with re-directing the water, but not tonight.’

He took my hand and massaged the knuckles. It was way more intimate than kissing it. I drew it gently away and said, ‘The sooner you show Mina the images, the sooner we can get out. I’m starving. And don’t worry, she’ll be gone by the time we get back.’

I turned and joined Mina in the living room. She gave us both a small sherry and stood by the little dining table. Jay laid down his portfolio and unzipped it.

When you’ve captured an image on Parchment, you’ve got a few choices. The image is only revealed with Lux, so you can put it in an album and take it out on special occasions. If you have Lux in your house, you can get special frames that really bring it to life, or you can transfer it to photo paper for mundane use.

Julius spread the Parchment out on his open portfolio and used the Lux to make the images shimmer into life.

Mina pointed to Team Chris. ‘This is not you, Julius?’

‘No. It’s Bertie with a Glamour.’

Mina traced the image of Eseld, running her finger round the shoulders. She gave me a sideways grin, then stood back. ‘One second.’

She has pockets in the tunic under her saree, and whipped out her phone. She shoved me next to Julius, and before I could argue, she took a picture. Several pictures.

‘That’s better,’ she announced. ‘I will take one copy of all of them, on Parchment, for Sofía. And one on paper for me. You needn’t bother with the solo pictures of Eseld and Lady Hawkins.’ She tipped her head, ever so slightly, and brushed hair away. Her new earrings were spectacular (a Diwali present from Mary Clarke). ‘If it’s not too much trouble for. I don’t mind how much it costs. This was Sofía’s debut.’

‘Of course,’ said Jay, a little bemused. Mina takes a bit of getting used to when she’s in Rani mode.

‘Why did you do those?’ I said, pointing to the solo pictures of the Hostesses.

‘Special request. That’s a very striking outfit, Ms Desai.’

‘Mina, please. I always make an effort for dinner with the Peculier Constable.’

He looked from me to Mina and made a judgement. A judgement that clearly made him feel uncomfortable. ‘There’s one more thing. I heard from Uncle Rupert this morning. About the Dæmon.’

‘Oh yes?’ If anyone was going to find out, it would be the Antiquary.

‘Yes. Lord Deaykin was a big player in the East India Company.’ He looked at Mina when he said that. If you don’t know, the East India Company were the ones who conquered most of India in the name of British commerce.

Mina does like to wrong-foot people. She stood up straight and mischief curled round her bright red lips. ‘We British should be proud of the East India Company and its achievements. Go on.’

Jay knew a wind-up when he heard it. He also chose to ignore it. ‘Because the Company wasn’t strictly the property of the crown, the Annex of Westphalia didn’t apply. The French were paying Focalor to sink British ships.’

‘What! How…?’

‘Long story. Lord Deaykin did a deal with Jeremiah Hawkins: stop the Dæmon in exchange for Cherwell Manor. It looks like Jeremiah used main force to seal up the Dæmon and leave it as a problem for the future.’

Mina had gone serious again. ‘If I get time, I think I may ask your uncle about that when we meet. Thank you, Jay. Now go, you two.’

We went. I’d booked us into a very exclusive, very discreet restaurant within walking distance, and for once the rain held off. When we got to the pavement, Jay broke out into a big smile. For a second, I thought he was going to say something about Mina, but he did something men rarely do: he ignored all the politics of the world of magick.

‘It’s funny, Vicky. We’ve shared a near death experience, and I feel like I know you really well because of that. But I don’t know you at all, not properly, and I’m really looking forward to finding out.’

We stopped to wait for the lights to change and it was my turn to check him out. He was wearing a tailored jacket and slim fitting shirt that emphasised his shoulders. That much was obviously worth exploring, and then there was the conflicting signals from his background. There was a lot to discover.

‘So am I, Jay, so am I.’

Vicky and the gang’s stories will continue in the next full book of the King’s Watch - Five Leaf Clover

Due out from Paw Press late spring 2021.

Author’s Note

This novella was a detour from the main story, as told in the Books of the King’s Watch, and I hope you enjoyed it. I’ve wanted to write a story where it was just Vicky – no Conrad, no Mina – for a while, and this is a slice of Vicky’s life that I thought might be of interest to readers.

A couple of notes:

Some of the places (and products) in my books can be hard to find (the signpost to Clerkswell off the Cheltenham Bypass has been missing for years). One thing that is very much available is the Hawkshead Relish Company. They’re in shops and delis all over the Lake District, and their Raspberry & Vanilla Jam is thoroughly addictive.

Less easy to get hold of are giant curried worms. The species Megascolides Australis is now endangered, so Conrad and Vicky might need an alternative source.

As ever, thanks are due to the awesome Rachel Lawston for designing the cover and to Anne for reading the first draft. Additional thanks are due to Lucy Campbell for checking the story and considering the perspectives it employs.

And thanks to Ian Forsdike for casting his eye over the text with a view to tackling my many errors. Any that remain are my own, especially the deliberate ones.

Until the next time,

Mark Hayden.