by Mark Hayden
She dived out and scuttled round, waving the paramedics over. They were good. Professional. Right up to the moment that Raven grabbed the one who tried to disengage Lena from her mission. They rolled with it and adapted their procedure. The rotors had hadn’t reached ground idle speed before Hedda disappeared through the doors.
‘What now?’ said Saffron when she’d climbed back in.
‘We do a quick check and take off again. They don’t need us here.’
She waited until we were in the air before speaking again. ‘Are we going to pick anyone up and come back?’
‘No. This helipad is for emergencies, not taxis. We’re heading for Lamorne Point. You’d better text Mina and tell them what we’ve done.’
‘I already did. On the way over. You were busy flying, so I used my initiative.’
‘Good. Give them an update, and well done, Saffron.’
23 — Goodbye for Now
There was a welcome party of one as we touched down at Lamorne Point. A tiny black and white welcoming party.
‘How did he get here?’ said Saffron. ‘Did he swim?’
‘He’s not stupid, and he’s not wet. I bet he ran up the steps though.’
The buggy appeared over the crest of the hill and Mina hopped out. Michael must have brought them over in the fast skiff; it was him at the wheel.
‘I so want to take a picture of that,’ said Saff.
I was focusing on the instruments. ‘Of what?’
‘Mina’s shoes.’
I looked up. ‘On your own head be it if you do. I’m certainly not that brave.’
‘Me neither.’
Mina’s jacket had gone and her bare arm showed off the slash of the scar for anyone to see. That was strange enough, but not as strange as her feet. Her black tights were pushed into woolly socks and they were poking out of blue walking shoes.
We looked at each other and said as one, ‘Lena’s spare pair.’
When I slipped off the harness, Saff said, ‘I’ll get the doors.’ It was her way of leaving me to get a free hug and a kiss.
‘How is she?’ asked Mina.
‘In good hands. I hope.’
‘Mowbray tells me that Truro has a specialist stroke centre. She couldn’t in a better place. What happened up there?’ She looked at her phone. ‘Saffron says you made it despite Signe. What does that mean?’
Saff had joined us. ‘It means that Raven used brute strength and magick to stop Signe attacking us. That was a close call, Conrad. I was on the verge of grabbing your gun.’
‘What’s happening at Pellacombe? What are the Daughters doing?’
‘I don’t know. I told Mowbray what was going on in the air and I guessed that you’d be coming here. I told Scout to find Michael and left them to it.’
When we got back across, in the regular ferry, the dock was deserted. We went through the office and Mina collected her heels from the cupboard where she’d purloined Lena’s shoes. Every desk was empty. Not a single person around.
That was because they’d been summoned to help with the packing. As we got to the main hall, the Mowbray minibus doors were being slammed shut on the Daughters’ luggage. The Witches themselves had already left in their own vehicle, which they’d rented locally.
In Lena’s absence, Kerenza was supervising. Being an ex-model, she must have a higher pain threshold for heels and still looked as poised as she had this morning, and with equal poise, she swept us into the family rooms where everyone clustered round to ask questions, especially Ethan. When he’d got the gist, he said, ‘I’m off to pick up Lena.’
Ten minutes later, Saffron came up to me on the little terrace. ‘What now, Conrad?’
‘Home. Unless you’re too tired to drive.’
‘Home? Is that it?’
‘Our mission’s over. We were only going to stay tonight because some of the Daughters were staying as well. Now they’ve all gone, we’re redundant. There’s a bed if we want it, but I don’t want to intrude on the Mowbrays’ family time.’
She sighed. ‘You’re right. You get all involved in this, and then suddenly it’s over and we’re not welcome any more.’
‘We’ll be back for the election, don’t forget. We’re not hired gunslingers in the King’s Watch, despite what some people say. I’m still dealing with the fallout from all of my cases. Except the one in Lakeland. Heard nothing from them at all.’
She smiled. ‘And for Mina it’s a job. I looked at one of those Flint Hoard printouts this morning. My eyes started swimming before the end of the first paragraph.’ She yawned. ‘I think I will stay here tonight. I’m not sure I could manage a four hour drive on my own.’
‘Sensible.’
‘You’re off to London on Friday, aren’t you? With Vicky.’
‘We are. I’ve told the Mages of Mercia to take the weekend off, so you should get a chance to put your feet up.’
‘Fat chance. You’re really going back to Clerkswell on Sunday night, just for one cricket match?’
‘We could get promoted. I’ve been guaranteed a game. You have to prioritise, Saffron.’
‘Very funny.’ She took one more look at the river. ‘I think I’ll base myself at Elvenham, if that’s okay. I’ll come up on Monday, if Myfanwy doesn’t mind me being there.’
‘She’s getting the weekend with Ben. After that, she really does prefer to have company.’
Mina appeared with a cup of tea in one hand and a cardboard tube in the other. She swapped places with Saffron and said, ‘What would have happened if Hedda had been taken ill before the ceremony?’ she said. ‘Lord Mowbray was very insistent that I look after the Agreement.’
‘That’s a question we’ll never answer,’ I replied. ‘Technically, Alys is her deputy, but I don’t know if she can use the seal. Or if she’d want to.’
Mina frowned. ‘I thought that this was all Alys’s idea.’
‘Eseld let something slip over lunch. Alys may have taken control, but it was Hedda who first realised that Mowbray was buying up electors and started to do the same. We’d better start packing.’
24 – A Perfect Fit
On the way north to Clerkswell, I took a call from Lena, who said that Hedda was having surgery for a haemorrhagic stroke, but the prognosis was good.
‘What did you do to help her?’ Mina asked.
‘I do not have the English for that, and Conrad does not have the German. I stop the blood, yes?’
There was a lot more, about who was going where and who was keeping vigil with Signe. Lena would not be paying a visit: it seems that Signe was furious with the decision to go to Truro rather than Glastonbury.
The lights were on in Elvenham House when we arrived. They were comforting, even if we knew that no one was at home. Vicky had offered to get takeout from Bishop’s Cleeve and we’d succumbed. She was going to pick up Myfanwy on the way back. I decided that there would never be a perfect time, so now was as good as any.
‘Let’s go up to the well first,’ I said. ‘It’s a mild night, and Myfanwy said that the electrician’s finished installing those lights.’
Mina looked at the empty house and said, ‘Why not. I’ll nip to the loo and see you up there.’
We got out, saluted the dragon, and made our way round the back. Autumn is definitely on the way, because even a couple of weeks ago there would have been residual light at this hour. Tonight, the sky was black, stars fighting with the heat haze to be seen.
I was glad to arrive at the well on my own. There was already a power supply here, for the pump that sends water to the Inkwell brewery, and Myfanwy had decided that such a crucial part of the property should have its own lights. My magickal journey began here when the Allfather enhanced me. Effectively he turned me from mundane into Mage, and hundreds of years ago it was the gateway to a (now abandoned) Fae realm.
In keeping with all this, Myfanwy had made the lights semi-magickal. There is a switch, hidden in the junction box and there’s a motion sensor, also hidden in a box. If w
e left the sensor exposed, it would be triggered all the time by foxes/cats/badgers and goodness knows what roaming through the garden. The trick is to set the sensor off without opening the box.
The sensor is totally mundane, as supplied. It’s the box that’s magickal. Saffron made it for Myvvy, with a little help from Erin. Inside the box is a Glyph, a painted picture of a firework. If you project a little Lux on to the box, the Glyph lights up and emits infra-red energy. A bit like clicking on an internet GIF. I stared at the box and spent a fruitless minute trying to project Lux from my fingers. All I achieved was nearly setting my jacket on fire.
I scratched my head and thought about how other Mages do this, and as I scratched, I remembered Eseld’s hands on my shoulders. Of course. ‘Scout! Here boy!’
He trotted up and tilted his head in query. I was now, consciously or not, projecting small amounts of Lux to Scout. If I could figure out how it worked for him, I might stand a chance.
Of course, he and I are bonded, which is a special case. I closed my eyes and found where the trickle of Lux was leaving my body. It was flowing out of my hands, like water running downhill. Downhill. Feeling like a complete numpty, I lay down in front of him. In strictly gravitational terms, the Lux was now flowing uphill, but it didn’t feel like that. My brain was trying to turn a non-spatial event into a spatial one, because that’s all it had to go on.
Power can flow in other ways. Oxygen flows into the blood through the lungs. Electricity flows from negative to positive. In both cases, there is a difference of power that tries to even itself out. I had more Lux than Scout. It was the same principle.
It was all a matter of Sight. Saffron and Erin had done the hard work by enchanting the box. All I had to do was use my Sight to find it. ‘Scout, go find Mina,’ I said to get him out of the way.
With his little beacon of Lux gone, and with my eyes closed, I reached out to sense the magickal terrain. There’s the well. Can’t mistake that. And there’s the box. I pointed my finger at where I thought it was (eyes closed, remember), and tried to let Lux build in my fingers. When there was a big enough difference, it made the jump and I felt the Glyph activate itself. Bingo.
I smiled to myself and got ready to stand up. And then I heard an electronic kercheek noise. An iPhone taking a picture. What the…?
I snapped my eyes open and blinked. The lights had come on (good), and in the soft glow stood Scout and Mina (not so good). Mina was staring at her phone. ‘What are you doing?’ I said, scrambling to my feet.
‘Conrad, you were lying on the grass, in the dark and pointing at the well. When the lights came on, I took a picture. What did you expect me to do? Ignore it?’
‘You could have said well done. It took a lot of effort to do that.’
She ignored me and said, ‘I sent it out and Saffron has already replied. She says Where’s his horse?’ Mina looked around. ‘Nice. It is a special place.’ She drifted over and sat on the edge of the well. Time for action, hopefully with better results than when I tried it with Amelia Jennings.
I dug out the box and got on one knee. Her eyes bulged.
‘Mina, I don’t know how I could live without you. You mean everything to me. Will you marry me?’
‘Yes.’ She paused. ‘You need a hand up, don’t you?’
‘It’s been a hell of a day.’
She braced herself and gave me a hand. ‘What a way to start our engagement,’ she said when I’d staggered around and sat down next to her.
‘It’s who we are. Sad but true.’
‘Not sad. Never sad for what we have.’ With that, she took my head and dragged it down for a kiss. A series of kisses. We only stopped when I heard barking from the house. The girls were here.
‘We have a moment,’ said Mina. ‘I can see why here, but why now?’
‘Because I love you. Because I want the world to know that we’re heading for marriage.’
She tilted her head. ‘That’s a very odd thing to say. Now hurry up and show me the ring.’
I opened the box and held it out. She stared at it and said, ‘Is this the diamond from the Dwarf?’
‘Yes. It was 3.7 carats, and…’
‘And you can’t afford to waste a $25,000 diamond. It’s beautiful, Conrad. Are those real rubies?’
‘Of course.’
She lifted it out. The story of that diamond began in Niði’s Hall, and it’s entwined with our search for the Codex Defanatus. I had it emerald cut, which means flattish and oblong. On either side were two matching (smaller) rubies.
‘Who made it?’
‘A Gnomish friend of Lloyd Flint. Or a cousin. I’ve paid for the rubies, but if you say yes, then the ring is an early wedding gift from Lloyd.’
She weighed the ring in her palm. ‘Does it have magick powers?’
‘Yes it does. We talked it over for a long time, and he said that the only thing that made sense was to use your Lux to mask the Ancile. You should be a little less obvious to Mages now. Any other Work would be dangerous.’
We heard the sounds of approaching dog (and women). Mina held out the ring. ‘Put it on me.’
I slid it over her finger (I’d done a lot of checking in her jewellery box, so it fitted), and said again, ‘Will you marry me?’
‘Yes.’
A burst of applause echoed around the garden. Mina stood up, and both Vicky and Myfanwy gave her a big hug. I’d had my back to the house. Had Mina seen them coming, and timed the last bit to perfection? Only a real diva would do that. Or a Rani. A princess would definitely want an audience.
We walked back in a line, Mina and I holding hands in the centre. Myfanwy (who has little filter at the best of times) was the one who brought up the elephant in the room.
‘What about Pramiti?’
To get out of a difficult, possibly deadly situation in prison, Mina had prayed to Ganesh. The gods do not always hear our prayers and rarely answer them. What’s more, a prayer is not encrypted. Any Spirit can listen, and one did.
Pramiti is a Nāgin, a snake-woman. You could call her a shapeshifter if you want. I wouldn’t do it to her face though. Pramiti was owed a favour by Ganesh, and Ganesh transferred that debt to Mina. There is nothing to stop us going to Cheltenham registry office and getting married, but if Mina wants to get married with Ganesh’s blessing, and she does, then we have to pay that debt. I looked down at Mina.
‘When I am ready to start planning the wedding, we will go to temple and make an offering to Ganesh,’ she said. ‘It’s up to him to tell Pramiti what is going on, not us.’
The rest of the evening was a delirious celebration. I’ll spare you the details. The weirdest part, for me, was the intense concentration and moving of lights necessary to produce the perfect picture of Mina’s hand with the ring on it. The circulation of that image was how our friends and family found out.
Later, in bed, I said, ‘I heard what you said on the phone to Erin. About the wedding. You’ve already started making plans, haven’t you?’
‘Mmmm. Yes. We’ll go to temple on Saturday. Might as well get it over with.’
Part Five — Returning Officer
25 — Skin Deep
‘It really isn’t a problem, Chris. Honestly.’
We were on our way to the Hindu temple in South London, and Chris Kelly had just rung to cancel tonight’s dinner. His youngest child was ill, apparently.
‘It’s a bloody problem for us,’ he said. ‘Tamsin went to a lot of trouble for this, and she’s furious.’
‘It’s no one’s fault. Or is it?’
‘Of course not. That’s what makes it worse. She’s bloody furious and has nowhere to direct her fury. Why do you think I volunteered to sit in the clinic waiting room for three hours? It’s not safe at home.’
‘I’m sure we’ll find a way to amuse ourselves.’
‘I’m sure you will. Is there any chance you’re going to be in London next Friday?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. See you t
hen. Better go,’ he said, and disconnected immediately.
‘Genuine?’ said Mina.
‘He’s no actor. It was genuine.’
‘Then I have an idea. I shall need to research it a little. This is our stop.’
You may wonder why we were trekking all the way to a battered temple in a disused warehouse in South London when the magnificent Neasden Mandir is only five miles from my – our – flat in Notting Hill. The answer is Mr Joshi.
I’m going to ask for your indulgence at this point. Please. The story of our visit to Mr Joshi’s temple, of our dinner with Chris, and of what Pramiti wanted all deserve to be told in full and told by Mina. You can read what happened in Ring of Troth.
One of the reasons she has to tell the story is that after our visit to the temple we had a huge row. A humdinger. One of those where you have to back down or risk everything, and then risk everything by backing down. You deserve to hear her side of the story, not mine.
We were back south of the river on Sunday, in the very different surroundings of Wimbledon, and with domestic harmony restored after our row last night. It’s a cliché, I know, but it really does help if you make a point of not going to bed angry.
‘Now that’s a house I could aspire to,’ said Mina.
I won’t name the road itself, but I will tell you this: there were paparazzi clustered around two of the houses further along. A certain TV personality had been caught coming out of the wrong gate on Friday night, and the Sunday papers were already talking about a divorce settlement of eight figures. How do I know this? Because the taxi driver told us. I don’t think he believed that we were going to a barbecue for one minute.
Dean Cora Hardisty’s house not only has three storeys, two wings either side of the grand entrance and a fountain at the front, it also has views over the park. ‘It’s a shame we won’t get to see inside.’
‘Why not!’ said Mina, with genuine outrage.
‘We’re still in the outer circle. If she gets to be Warden, we’ll be invited to one of the inside parties. According to Vicky, her Halloween bash is legendary.’