The Twelve Dragons of Albion

by Mark Hayden

  Everyone else started moving furniture in a well-drilled manoeuvre, leaving Vicky to approach the pile of firewood by the door in a daze. She contemplated the wreckage and said, ‘Oh fuck.’

  I bent down to collect the other caps, stacking them neatly out of the way. I tidied the wood, retrieved the crumpled mess of RAF blue and stood up. ‘Listen, Vicky, I’ll sort out the hat-stand. Don’t worry, all right?’

  ‘I’ve made a right div of meself, haven’t I?’

  She had. There was no getting round it, so I didn’t try. If I’d been Desirée, I might have something more consoling to say, but I’m not, so I passed her my cap. All the stiffening in the top had been smashed, and there were several tears.

  She looked down guiltily. ‘I’m so sorry, Conrad. I’ll get you a new one.’

  ‘Not you. Put in a claim – Damaged on Exercises. That’s what we always did. Oh look, food. I’m starving.’

  For the first time, I concentrated on the room, not the people in it. It was big, with no less than three windows, and the centre was now filled with three pairs of tables. A selection of office chairs was being wheeled out of nooks and crannies between bookcases, cupboards and a sink unit. There were no desks as such, and the only other furniture was a trio of battered sofas. A large map of England (MOD issue) and a portrait of HM (ditto) completed the inventory.

  Platters of food were being set out, glasses lined up and bottles retrieved from a fridge (handy). Hannah wandered over, and Vicky excused herself rapidly.

  ‘You do like to make a scene, don’t you?’ said Hannah.

  ‘Me? Not guilty, ma’am. It’s just the effect I have on people.’

  ‘Come over here.’ I followed her to a cupboard. ‘Can you get that holdall – this skirt’s a bit tight for bending.’

  I retrieved a black sports bag, nearly overbalancing with the unexpected weight. Hannah pointed at the bulging contents: it was stuffed with lever arch files and ring binders. I took out a blue file at random, and read the cover out loud. ‘Orders of the Occult Council relating to Divination. Volume III.’ I looked at Hannah. ‘It’s the Volume III that’s killing me.’

  She leaned down to whisper. ‘Maxine’s monument – all the law and principles of the King’s Peace, digitised.’ She straightened up and I did the same. ‘After this afternoon’s trip to the City Police, you’ve got an appointment with the Earth Master tomorrow morning. I know it’s Saturday, but we need to get moving on that Dragon. When you’ve seen him, take your homework to Clerkswell and stay away from London until I call you back. I read Desirée Haynes’ report, and we’ve got time before the Dragon becomes a threat. I definitely don’t want you going into the field again until you’ve absorbed the two red files at the bottom, and the blue staff handbook. You can skim the rest for now.’

  Lunch was good, if rather frustrating. Vicky had told me about the Chymists’ Code – a semi-formal set of rules, and the first attempt to govern magick outside the Catholic Church. As far as I can tell, the only principle to be followed religiously is the one which says Tell no one anything for nothing. I tried to spark up several conversations with my new colleagues, and every time I asked something useful like, Who are the Fleet Witches, and why are they scary? my interlocutor would change the subject.

  The most difficult part was trying to keep a whole table between me and Annelisa whilst simultaneously watching the (divine) strawberry tarts in case Hannah approached them. The crunch moment came when I had to interpose myself between the Constable and the desserts, allowing Annelisa to corner me for what amounted to an interrogation by flattery and flirting.

  ‘It’s such a change to have a real soldier on the team,’ was her opening salvo.

  ‘I’m an Airman, not a soldier, but thanks for the welcome.’

  ‘Why did you leave the air force? It can’t be because you’re too old.’

  Vicky was standing by the sink, giving me daggers and chewing on a sausage roll like it was her last meal. If Annelisa really was ignorant of my history, it shows that the others can’t have been talking to her very much.

  I put down my plate and twirled my glass. ‘It was time to move on. Time to find a life where I didn’t have to live a lie. Somewhere that wouldn’t be prejudiced against my partner. Somewhere we could live openly.’

  I could hear Annelisa’s mental gears crashing as she changed course. ‘That’s even better! The Watch needs to have so many of its prejudices challenged.’ She scanned the room, lingering on Vicky for a second, then lowering her voice. ‘There’s even open homophobia on occasions. I’ll be much stronger about it now.’

  ‘Thanks, Annelisa. That’s good to know.’

  She touched her hand to my back and went to talk to one of the interns.

  As Hannah approached, I stood my ground.

  ‘You’re not going to move from in front of those tarts, are you?’ she said.

  ‘I’d rather stand here than be forced to shout a warning.’

  ‘Then I’d better go back to work.’

  ‘One more thing. How do you get deliveries here?’

  ‘It’s in the staff handbook. Oh, and you’ve got a locker and a pigeonhole in the basement. I’ll be in touch.’

  As soon as the Boss left, the party started to break up. I picked up my other holdall, the one with the change of clothes, and collected the Hammer from Tennille’s desk before venturing into the basement. It was pretty much what you’d expect a mediæval basement to look like after a twenty-first century refurbishment.

  Half an hour later, I was changed, packed and waiting for Vicky by the Ravens in the Tower proper. She bustled along in a rush, also changed from her uniform.

  ‘I cannot believe you,’ she said. ‘The whole building, apart from the Boss, Desi’s mam and me think that you’re gay. What was that all about?’

  ‘I had heard that Holland is full of dykes, but clearly that isn’t true.’

  She stopped moving to work out whether or not to be offended on behalf of the sisterhood. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the memory of what I’d said. ‘Are you completely immune to flattery?’

  ‘Of course not, when it’s done by an expert. Ms van Kampen is a rank amateur. Odin only knows what she’s like to work with.’

  ‘Aye, well you’d better ask Ian Drummond about that. She clings to him like a leech.’

  ‘Don’t put images like that in my head. Where are we going?’

  ‘How should I know? You’re the navigator. I reckon Scotland Yard would be favourite.’

  ‘Wrong force. Hannah said it was the City Police, in which case I do know where we’re going.’

  She looked forlorn. ‘Please tell me we’re taking a cab. I had too much to eat.’

  ‘Then you need to walk it off. I see you’ve made a commitment to comfortable footwear.’

  ‘Only on days when you’re around.’

  It was a miserable day for walking, until Vicky burst out laughing. ‘I was just thinking about your hat,’ she said.

  ‘I’m glad you found it funny. What happened, by the way?’

  ‘Not all the Watch Captains are personally chosen by the gods, you know. If your name’s not Conrad Clarke, you have to take an aptitude test, which includes projectile magick. They all practise like crazy, but I never bothered ’cos I didn’t have to take the test.’ A thought scootered across her brow. ‘Anyway, how are you gonna use your sword if you can’t project it?’

  ‘Oy!’ shouted a cyclist when I stopped dead with one foot in the road.

  So that’s how the Watch Captains use their swords in a fight – they “project” them towards the enemy rather than get up close and personal. Or perhaps both.

  ‘It’s a good job there’s more than one form of projectile magick,’ I said.

  ‘No there isn’t,’ said Vicky, dragging me back on to the pavement.

  ‘You’ll see. Tell me something: how did you get your Badge of Office without going through … induction?’ I had been going to say without meeti
ng Nimue, but a taste of iced water stopped me.

  ‘I took me pickaxe to Hannah’s office one day, and the next day it was there. Don’t forget, I only have powers of arrest. I can’t dispense summary justice.’

  ‘I can’t forget that because I didn’t know until you just told me. Is that all in the red files?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Come on, then. The sooner we meet CI Kaplan, the sooner I can start on my homework.’

  ‘Is that all you’ve got for a Friday night?’

  ‘I asked Mina out, but she’s washing her hair tonight, and every night until May. If you’ve got Annelisa’s number, I could try her.’

  ‘Shut up. Is this it?’

  The large sign saying City of London Police was a bit of a giveaway. Five minutes later, we were collected from reception by an admin assistant who promised coffee. She took us up, around, down, and along the building until even I was getting unsure about our location. She knocked on Chief Inspector Kaplan’s door and left us to it.

  I pushed open the door, and thought I’d gone through a time-warp, back to before the day Hannah had had her near death experience with the Revenant.

  ‘Hi,’ said our host. ‘I’m Ruth Kaplan, and yes, I am Hannah’s sister. Younger sister, I hasten to add.’ She came from behind a desk which sported an impressive array of computer monitors. It was a day for uniforms, one way and another, and CI Kaplan was wearing hers.

  ‘Guess how much younger?’ she said after we’d shaken hands.

  Now that was a minefield I wasn’t going to step into. It was time to start getting my revenge on Vicky for ruining my hat. ‘I always think that women are the best at answering that question, don’t you, Vicky?’

  ‘Err…’ said Vicky, going red, almost as red as the scarf which she pulled off in the warmth of Ruth’s office. Sometimes Vicky can’t help herself. She looked at the Chief Inspector in a different way, and a grin broke out. ‘You think you’re younger, but you’re not.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Ruth. ‘How’s that?’

  Vicky does tend to forget her audience sometimes: this is her boss’s sister, a senior(ish) police officer, and someone we might need a lot of favours from. She steamed straight in: ‘You think you’re half an hour younger – give or take – am I right?’

  It was Ruth’s turn to blush. ‘Yes. I don’t think our mother or the midwife lied about that.’

  ‘They didn’t. You were born second, but conceived first. You’re actually one day older than Constable Rothman, if you count from the moment when…’

  ‘Stop there. Stop right there. TMI, as the kids say.’ She took a breath. ‘It’s Conrad, isn’t it, unless we’re being formal?’

  ‘What?’ It was my turn to look foolish. I’d been trying to digest several bites of discovery. First, that if Ruth were Hannah’s twin, then my estimate of their age had to drop several years: Ruth doesn’t look much over forty, if that. And then, how did Vicky do that? Tell someone’s age to the moment of conception? I got my focus back. ‘Sorry. Yes. It’s Conrad.’

  Ruth tilted her head to the side in a gesture I’d never seen from Hannah. Ruth has her sister’s blue eyes, but her colouring is darker, her mouth a little fuller. I could tell from the way she looked at me that the sisters were close, and that Hannah had already been talking about me. Having given me the study, Ruth nodded her head. ‘Hannah said you were tall. How did you fit in the cockpit?’

  ‘There’s more room in a helicopter. We don’t get the ejector seats, for one thing.’

  Coffee arrived, and we squeezed around a small table. Ruth dispensed with the small talk and said, ‘Growing up, I had a bit more magick than Hannah, but neither of us had very much, and neither of us knew it. We both joined the Met on the same day, as graduate entry applicants. Hannah made CID before me, and was an inspector before me. When things went pear-shaped, and she joined the Watch, I was on maternity leave. The Watch used to have their own access to the national databases, but all that changed. The last Home Secretary but one insisted that all data requests be handled by the regular force. Hannah agreed, so long as there was only one contact – me. I got promoted, too.’

  I picked up on the timeline. ‘Hannah wasn’t the Constable when the last Home Secretary but one was in office.’

  Ruth blinked. These girls needed to get their stories straight. ‘No,’ she said. ‘She was Deputy, and it was delegated to her.’ She flicked her eyes to Vicky, to see if my partner were on the same trail, then back to me. Vic was oblivious.

  Ruth continued. ‘I can do anything that’s legal for a police officer and that can be done from here. Some things will need Hannah’s direct approval.’ She focused properly on Vicky. ‘I’m afraid the Protocols haven’t been amended yet, so I can only deal with requests from Watch Captains. Sorry.’ Vicky shrugged. ‘Conrad, I believe that you’ve got a phone for me.’

  I took out the mobile from the Old Network. ‘How much do you know about the world of Magick?’ I asked.

  ‘Enough. I don’t live in it, but I pay frequent visits.’

  I passed over the phone, and gave her the story. She seemed most alarmed when I said that Hledjolf had already been looking into the network provider.

  ‘Thanks for that, Conrad. I dread to think what the Camelot Committee will say when I tell them.’

  Vicky leaned forwards. ‘Conrad’s never heard of them. Not even the official title.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Ruth. ‘There’s a committee of non-Mages in Whitehall who consider the impact of magick on the mundane world. The nickname tells you how highly regarded they are.’

  ‘Is it in the red file?’ I asked Vicky.

  ‘Nah. One of the green ones. It’s not that important. Normally.’

  Ruth stood up to put the phone on her desk. ‘I’ll make a start today, but don’t hold your breath.’ She turned to face us, leaning back on her desk. I couldn’t help noticing that Hannah has nicer ankles. Ruth made up her mind and said, ‘Vicky, could you excuse us a moment?’

  Vicky frowned at me. ‘Aye. I’ll be outside. I don’t trust meself to get out of this rabbit warren without a native guide. Or Conrad.’

  I had to stand up to let my partner to the door. Ruth stayed on her feet when the door was closed. Before she could speak, I said, ‘Did you know DS Morton when he worked here?’

  She tsked. ‘Of course I did. And I read the Operation Jigsaw files when Hannah told me about you.’

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘He’s doing well, Chief Inspector and all that. He’s on a high profile case in Cheshire at the moment.’ She waved Tom Morton away with her hand. ‘I’m not bothered about the past, Conrad. Hannah’s too by-the-book to ask this, but I will: what are your plans? What are you doing in the Watch, and who are you doing it for, if not yourself?’

  She was probably the only person in the world who had the right to ask those questions, and she deserved an honest answer. ‘I’m my own man, Ruth, make no mistake about that. I’m in the Watch because I’ve got nothing better to do until Mina Desai gets out of prison. If I’m still alive when that happens, I’ll think again.’ I opened my palms to show that this was all I’d got.

  She nodded slowly. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Tell me,’ I said. ‘Where did Hannah get her magick from? She evidently didn’t have it when you were teenagers.’

  Ruth looked very awkward. You can’t ask a question like hers and not expect to get one back. She blew out her cheeks. ‘Can’t. If you’d asked me my favourite sexual position, I’d have told you, but I can’t tell Hannah’s story.’

  I wondered whether Rachael would be as discreet about me. Actually, she probably would, which thought cheered me up. ‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘Now, about that other question…’

  She laughed. ‘Go. You missed your chance.’

  I went.

  Mr & Mrs Robson did a good job bringing up their daughter – Vicky was too polite to ask what Ruth had wanted. I waited until we were outside before I said, ‘Ruth’s
worried about her sister.’

  ‘Oh, aye? In what way?’

  ‘That’s the problem. I don’t know. All she did was ask about my long term plans in the Watch.’

  ‘Funny question to ask. What did you tell her?’

  ‘The truth: I haven’t got any. Or none beyond Mina’s release date. A lot can happen before then.’ The rain was getting worse. ‘I’ve got mountains of stuff to take to Notting Hill. Do you want to share a cab to Merlyn’s Tower? I’m going straight off after.’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘While we wait, you can tell me how you know when Hannah’s mother conceived. That must take serious magick, Vicky.’

  ‘You dropped me right in it, there, you bastard. I was that put out, I couldn’t help meself.’

  ‘So how did you do it?’

  She gave me a strange look. ‘It’s not something to boast about, Conrad. They call it Imprimation at the College, and it’s how I knew that Mr Mole is unstable, and how I found Abi Sayer’s biological father. It’s an aspect of Sorcery, but a pretty useless one. I don’t know … it’s like wanting to be a pilot, but only being able to land, not take off or fly.’

  A cab appeared, and answered my wave. I held the door closed a second. ‘Landing’s the hardest part, Vicky. I should know. You’re letting them sell you short. Don’t do that.’

  She leaned up and kissed me. ‘Thanks, Uncle Conrad. And well done with the induction.’

  ‘Hurry up,’ said the cabbie. ‘You can snog all you like when the meter’s running.’

  Vicky laughed. ‘He’s me uncle, and he’s not getting another kiss until me birthday or we find a Dragon. Whichever comes first.’ The cabbie looked like saying something. Vicky pointed a finger at him. ‘And no cracks about your wife being a Dragon.’

  He lifted his hands. ‘You’re the boss. Where to?’

  ‘The Tower of London,’ I said. ‘The tradesmen’s entrance.’

  9 — Master of the Earth

  I was way too tired to read the red files on Friday night, but I did glance at the staff handbook and learnt that the Deputy Constable has his office without Merlyn’s Tower, in a small apartment next to the main admin block for the Tower proper. All post and deliveries for the King’s Watch are addressed to The Curator of Heraldic Law, which is Ian Drummond’s cover name. Now there’s a job title that sounds impressive without meaning anything.