by Shamus Young
Lord Moxley held two of them, one in each hand. He examined them front and back, holding them up to the light and finally holding one over the other in front of the window. When he was satisfied that he had gleaned the fullness of their contents, he slipped them into the stove.
Alice was put off by this behavior. He was normally so careless, gossipy, or aloof that it was hard to imagine the man sitting down to conduct any sort of serious business.
Alice helped herself to some tea and sat opposite him. “What are you doing?” she said at last.
“I’m reading the papers, silly girl,” he replied. “I know I don’t normally allow you to see me working. It’s unseemly. But these are desperate times. Besides, you seem to feature prominently in these stories and you might be able to cull rumor from fact.”
“It looks like you’ve been at it all morning,” she said, looking at his ink-stained hands.
“All night, actually. I haven’t yet been to bed,” he said flatly. “The papers have been busy for hours, and I have a good deal to do before I can allow myself to sleep. Most of this is due to the actions of our adversaries, although, some of it is your doing.”
“Yes,” Alice said nervously.
“Did you really shoot Brooks in his own home?” he snapped.
She had never seen him angry before. It was shocking. Given his dandy demeanor, she had always imagined his anger – assuming he was capable of it – would be pouty and given to overly dramatic weeping. Instead, he was another man altogether. He seemed suddenly dangerous.
“I did,” she said guardedly. She wasn’t sure why she was suddenly so frightened of him.
He leaned back in his chair and regarded her with a blank expression. Soon she began to squirm under his gaze. At last he spoke, “Did you give no thought to what the repercussions might be, even if you hadn’t botched the attempt and left the man alive? Do you have any idea how much weaker our position is now? Did you really think you could stop this obviously vast and well-orchestrated plot by assassinating one man?”
“No sir,” she replied. “I gave no thought to any of those things.”
“Then what did you-“
“He admitted to killing my father.”
A flash of understanding came over his face, and Moxley seemed to soften. He glanced down at the notes in front of him. “I see. That detail was not reported to me. Well, that does give me a measure of comfort. Assuming no more men step forward and confess to the crime, I can hope you are cured of your bloodlust for the time being?”
“If Brooks were standing here now, I would not attempt to kill him again. It was a reckless act, and I do not intend to repeat it.”
“That is a relief. I was worried you had gone mad. Still, we are in a difficult position. You are now a fugitive, and many people will want to question me about the incident. My list of allies was reduced overnight because of this, and I should probably move soon.”
“Allies?”
Moxley shuffled through his papers as he spoke, “More than one of my correspondents suddenly announced that they had news so shocking that they would only tell it to me in person. This of course, means that they want nothing more than to lure me out into the open where I can be captured.”
“You are sure?” Alice said doubtfully. “They might simply have news for you.”
“I have already read about the plot to dethrone Her Majesty, which was revealed at the party last night. I doubt anything could be more shocking than that. Remember that these people are not members of our ministry. They are friends, schemers, acquaintances, and gossips. They are only as reliable as the coin I give them, and Brooks has many, many more coins than I do.”
“You have already heard about the plot?” Alice asked in surprise.
“I have. I may know more of it than you. Brooks spoke more of it after your escape. And now I’m sure you will ask me how I know that, and the answer is of course that you weren’t my only agent in attendance.”
Alice opened her mouth to speak, but Moxley interrupted her. “And your next question is why I would send more than one. The answer is that two people will give very different reports. I can then use these reports to verify or refute one another, to avoid being misled by liars or back-stabbers. And your final question is to ask why I didn’t tell you. Because it’s safer for both of you if you are ignorant of each other. Have I properly anticipated and answered your questions?”
Alice shut her mouth and gave a single nod.
“Good. After you left the party, Brooks explained that King Mordaunt plans to seize the throne tonight. He made no secret of this and even encouraged people to spread the word. Most of my correspondence this morning is that single item of news, repeated again and again, as it traveled up the chain of command, and passed along to me by concerned parties. The note at the bottom of the pile is the end of the chain so far, and it comes from a member of Prince Albert’s staff. There is no doubt in my mind that the Queen and her husband know of this plot. They are most likely meeting with their advisors right this minute, and taking this very seriously.”
“Why would Brooks show his hand like this?” Alice asked.
“Why indeed! He delivered the news knowing it would reach his adversaries. He gave them warning of Mordaunt’s coming, but not enough time to plan for it. The Queen has less than a day to devise her response, and she doesn’t know how or when he will arrive. Brooks hasn’t exposed himself overmuch, but it’s still not clear why he exposed himself at all. Why not remain silent and take everyone by surprise?”
“In his speech, Brooks petitioned his guests to stay out of the fight. He wanted them to remain neutral, so that they could live to serve the new regime,” Alice explained.
Moxley frowned, “There is perhaps truth in that, but he didn’t need to give them a firm date. He could have remained secret on when the struggle would begin. Now that I’m considering it, I’m wondering if I’m looking at this wrong. Perhaps he didn’t aim his announcement at the Queen, but at the city itself. This news is spreading quickly. It’s known to a few of us now, but scandal of this magnitude won’t be contained. By sundown half the city will have heard about it, which is perhaps his aim. What benefit is a coronation if there are no witnesses? Perhaps he wants the Queen to respond, and perhaps he wants to make sure the contest is public. There’s an alarming thought. It would mean he was extraordinarily confident of his position.”
“Has the Queen sent for you?” Alice asked. “It seems like she ought to solicit our advice when faced with the prospect of an insurrection led by a lich.”
He shook his head and stifled a yawn. “Possibly she has, and word hasn’t yet reached me. I’m very far from my office on King Charles Street, and messages make their way here through secret routes, not swift ones. Possibly she doubts my loyalty. She might even reach out to the church. They might be a better ally against a large, organized foe. Our ministry is designed to investigate, not fight battles.” At this thought, Moxley slumped down into his chair and his face fell.
“You look very tired,” Alice said softly. “Are you sure you can’t dare an hour or two of sleep? I’d be happy to help, or keep watch, or whatever else you need.”
“I would love to sleep, but I must correspond with my helpers, or I will find myself blind and dumb. They write me short, obfuscated notes, and I reply in kind. It’s a time consuming process, and it must be done properly to protect both them and myself. Speaking of which, if you are going to continue to call on me like this, I will have to teach you how to do the same. It’s much too risky to have you traveling here every day.”
“Understood. Although, we were careful to follow your directions on the way here. We might have been noticed on the way, but I’m confident we weren’t followed.”
“We?” he replied with sudden alarm. “You did not come alone?”
“No. Both Simon and Gilbert came with me.”
His eyes went wide with alarm, “Here? Please don’t tell me you left them loitering outside!�
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“I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t think you’d want all of us in this tiny place, and I didn’t think you’d want to meet Gilbert.”
“You left them standing outside! The neighbors here are spies, gossips, and busybodies. All of that instruction I gave you yesterday on how to move without being followed,” his voice trailed off for a moment in frustration, “It does you no good if you simply stand in the open by my door! I thought it would go without saying that you should disappear from sight as quickly as possible once you arrived.”
“So I should invite them in?”
“Or flee. Whichever will more quickly remove them from public view.”
“Then I think I should flee. I don’t think it would help your work to have all three of us crammed into this room.”
Alice was about to leave when she stopped suddenly and turned back to Moxley. She gave him a kiss on the head. “Good luck Sir!” she said earnestly.
Moxley rolled his eyes and waved her off, but for a fleeting moment his mask cracked and he expressed something perilously close to affection.
Outside, she found that Gilbert and Simon were indeed standing right in the street. Gilbert was holding out his arm, and Simon was trying to use it to perform a chin-up.
They hurried away.
The rest of the day was spent ducking the growing number of soldiers milling about in London. As they walked, they took turns proposing increasingly large and complex theories on what Mordaunt might be planning.
“Three! That’s three streets in a row,” Simon said abruptly and somewhat randomly.
“Three streets? What are you talking about?” Gilbert asked with mild irritation.
“The last three streets we’ve passed have been lined with gas lanterns instead of electric lights.”
“Not this again,” Alice sighed.
“Before that was one street with electric lights, and of course this street has electric lights.”
It was nearing sundown. The lamps were currently dark. Simon had asked many times about when they were normally lit. The group had been walking for most of the afternoon, looking for signs of trouble or activity from Alice’s ethergram.
“I don’t understand your fixation with them. I would have expected their novelty to have worn off by now,” Gilbert said.
Simon stopped at the street corner and turned slowly around, noting the types of lights used on all of the adjacent streets. “I just find it interesting. Why are some streets lit with gas, while others are electric, and others left dark? Doesn’t it seem odd?”
“I expect it’s mostly to do with the affluence of the neighborhood,” Alice shrugged.
“I thought so, too,” Simon nodded. “And that theory seems to hold in some places. But there are many exceptions, and I can’t figure out what reasoning led to this arrangement.”
“I see your problem now,” Gilbert replied. “You are looking for reason in a project undertaken by a bureaucracy. The two are mutually exclusive.”
Simon grunted, slightly dissatisfied with this answer but content to keep it to himself for the time being. He continued to crane his neck as they walked, counting streets and lights to himself.
“Interesting!” Alice exclaimed, looking at her ethergram.
“That would be a welcome change,” Gilbert said dryly.
“The needle has swung around and is pointing north. Which suggests there is strong activity in that direction. Strong enough to overcome your proximity.”
“I hope you were talking to Simon. Or to yourself. Because I have no idea what that means.”
“It means we’re headed north,” she said, and led them that way at the next intersection.
“Drat,” said Simon. “This is taking us away from the electric lights.”
After several blocks Alice stopped and turned around in place. Then she turned around in the opposite direction. “This can’t be right,” she said with frustration. “We should have arrived at the source by now, unless the magic is moving away from us. We’ve come far, but the needle is still pointing straight north.”
“So now your device is nothing more than an ugly compass?” Gilbert suggested.
“I think the dials have an elegant beauty to them, thank you very much. Let’s head west and see if the needle moves.”
She led them west, then east again, and then north, stopping often to flick the dial or spin in place to make sure it was still working properly. “This is absurd!” she exclaimed.
“Couldn’t it just mean the magic is really far away?” Simon asked.
“Yes. But distance is affected by power, and even exceptionally strong magic isn’t detectable until I’m within a few hundred paces of it. Remember how close we needed to be on Callisto?”
“Where is everyone?” Gilbert said suddenly.
They stopped and Alice looked up from her device. He was right. The streets were now empty. Soldiers had been running back and forth all day, and there should certainly have been numerous Londoners hurrying from place to place. It was late enough now that candles should have begun appearing in windows, but the houses were all dark.
“You’re right, this is very odd,” Alice said slowly.
“Perhaps this area has been evacuated?” Simon suggested.
“Then we should have passed the evacuees,” Alice replied. “Ravenstead is north of London, and I doubt anyone would flee towards danger. No. Even the soldiers seemed to have withdrawn.”
“Now that you mention it, doesn’t it seem strange that we’ve seen so many groups of soldiers in the past hour, yet none of them have marched past us?” Gilbert asked. “They always turn away or move to a side street as we approach.”
“I doubt the troop movements have anything to do with us,” Alice said without conviction.
They slowed as they reached the mid-point of the current block. The houses were built shoulder-to-shoulder here, and the way suddenly seemed very claustrophobic. They felt hemmed in. The streets were silent and watchful.
“I saw a curtain move in that house,” Gilbert said, indicating the house with a nod. “There are people about. They’re simply hiding. Perhaps they’ve been driven into their homes by a danger we have yet to see?”
“Let’s turn back and head south,” Simon said, stopping in his tracks.
Alice turned. “The magic is still north of us. We need to spy it out before we run away. Who else remains to protect the city, if not us?”
A whistle blew, echoing over the rooftops. Another whistle answered. There was a thunder of boots ahead, and a large number of soldiers ran out and blocked the way in front of them. They turned south, but found that way was similarly blocked. The doors of the surrounding houses were thrown open, and soldiers emerged from those as well.
"I really wish you hadn't left my sword behind," Gilbert said.
“Fighting would be pointless,” Alice replied. “Would you really attempt to cut your way through all of these men?”
They were quickly hedged in with bayonets. The soldiers called Alice by name and commanded the group to stand still. Some of the men knocked Gilbert down and began kicking him. He lay still. The scene might have been comical in less dire circumstances. Men kicked him until they were red-faced and out of breath, at which point he rose up and stood beside Alice without comment.
The prisoners were taken north. The soldiers walked close behind them with bayonets at the ready, so that if any of them slowed they would quickly feel the point on their back, encouraging them to keep up.
By the time they arrived at the northern edge of the city, the street lights had begun to come on. Simon was obviously frustrated that he couldn’t examine them closely.
The company halted, and a man rode out to meet them. He dismounted quickly, barking orders to the massed soldiers. They ran off to fortify in diverse places in his commend, leaving a much smaller group to stand over the prisoners. When the men had been put in order, the officer turned to Alice.
“Lieutenant Stanway!
” Alice said in surprise.
“It’s Major now, Miss White,” he corrected her firmly.
“Of course,” she said, nodding at his new uniform. “You seem to be ascending the ranks at an unprecedented rate,” she marveled.
The Major drew in a slow breath. “This recent business has been hard on our officer corps. Apparently many were loyal, or perhaps sympathetic, or simply frightened of this Mordaunt fellow.” Then he raised his voice, “But the men, the men are loyal to the queen!”
The men cheered at this. Major Jack seemed like a changed man. He was less proud, yet surer of himself. He was less angry, yet more aggressive.
“It would seem we are after the same foe,” Alice said. “So I must wonder why you’ve gone to so much trouble to arrest us.”
“You dare feign ignorance? Has the possession of abominations been legitimized since I left the ministry?”
Alice sighed, “Major, surely you can see the value-“
“Witches, sorcerers, and abominations,” he pointed at each of them in turn as he said this, “Isn’t that what the ministry is to fight against? Why then is that the entirety of your roster?”
“Your job is to protect us from foreign armies, is it not?” she shot back. “Why then do you seem to be leading an army yourself?”
The Major shook his head. “I’ve always been fond of you, Miss White. Professionally, I mean,” he said this with a sideways glance at his men. “But I think your dalliances with the dark arts have clouded your judgment.”
“And I think your hatred of the arts has clouded yours. Do you plan to oppose Mordaunt with nothing more than swords and guns?”
“The ministry never had even ten guns, and now we have no less than two hundred at the ready. Back at Buckingham, there are thousands more. Yes, I think swords and guns will suffice.”