The Rose Thief

by Claire Buss

  Mia nodded reluctantly, she had been hoping to avoid mentioning Joe's nearby presence, but her father just nodded to himself.

  'Using your flesh and bone bond to me,' he continued, 'I can channel through you and gather power. But don't worry, I left you enough to finish your tasks here.' He paused again, looking around the room. 'I take it you have acquired the red rose by now. Is the takeover complete?'

  Mia was standing now. She tried to hide her inner panic by walking over to a nearby table and pouring herself some wine.

  'Not exactly,' she murmured.

  'Are you confessing your failure, child?' The sorcerer raised a hand threateningly. 'Do you require further motivation?'

  'No! No, there is no need. I have managed to evict the Emperor from the throne but there has been a complication.' She took a long swallow of wine. 'He, or rather she, has barricaded herself in the left wing of the Palace. With all the wives and servants. There is some kind of magical shield in place that I have yet to break.'

  'Yet to break or unable to break?'

  'I have been busy, organising a stasis box to carry the rose away from here. Otherwise we run the risk of destroying love, for everyone.'

  'There is no need for a stasis box. Just bring the rose to me and I will consider letting you have this pitiful kingdom to do with what you will.'

  'But love...'

  'But what? The emotion has power, true, but you should never let love control you. You would not have had that incident if you had not let love affect you.'

  Mia flushed but kept quiet.

  'I do not like how long it has taken you to get to this point, child. You should have crushed the Emperor like the flea that he, she is. She does not best you, does she?'

  'Father, please. She has some power, but nothing I can't handle. I was just caught off guard, that's all. She cannot hold out in there for long. I have forbidden the kitchens from making any food. I will break down those wards.'

  'See that you do. I want my rose. I have wasted enough time indulging in your whimsy.' The sorcerer looked into his distance at an object Mia could not see. 'It is almost time for my captivity to end. I will not accept any delays or excuses.'

  Mia inclined her head. 'No Father, of course not.' The room felt empty. She looked up and let out a breath she had not realised she was holding. He was gone. If she had not mentioned the Emperor's masquerade to her father in the first place she could have been finished here by now and the red rose would not have vanished from under her nose. Instead now she had to try and break some kind of old world magic, get rid of the true heir to the throne and find a missing flower. All to help her father free himself and add another puppet kingdom to his collection. Mia sighed. It would be worth it in the end. When she could be free of him and take her mother, and Joe, somewhere remote, safe. Away from all this.

  Chapter 14

  Ma Bowl ran the Palace kitchen. No-one could remember her real name or if they could they weren't talking. She had been known as Ma Bowl after an incident involving a certain beloved mixing bowl one of the Emperor's wives had taken a shine to. Normally Palace staff allowed the imperials to have whatever they wanted but as a young kitchen maid Ma Bowl had protested loudly. The Emperor's father, may he live for ever and ever, had been so taken with her devotion to crockery that he had allowed her to keep it and encouraged her promotion. The young kitchen maid was now the Head Cook and her bowl sat on a shelf near her stool where she could oversee everything happening in her domain. The bowl might stay on the shelf but it was scrupulously cleaned daily and absolutely no-one was allowed to use it. Ma was sat on her stool in her usual position when Ned poked his head into the kitchens. It was quiet. This was unusual. There were no delicious smells wafting, no bread baking, no saucepans bubbling.

  'What's going on, Ma?'

  She regarded him balefully. 'The Emperor, may he live for ever and ever, has decreed that no-one eats until the Rose-Thief is caught. I sent everyone home. It was too much for the younger ones, they didn't know how to stop peeling potatoes. I suppose I should take that as a comfort.'

  'No-one is allowed to eat?' Ned was incredulous. 'That's going a bit far isn't it?'

  'His Eminence is in a rotten mood. He has sent all his advisers away. All the little kiddies are locked in the nursery and the wives have been sequestered. They're not happy, but no-one has the nerve to speak up. He is raging in the upper corridors. The High Right was overheard telling the High Left that he'd never seen him in such a temper.'

  'Why are you still here?'

  'I don't know where else to go, besides I need to be ready to prepare a snack should it be required.'

  Ma Bowl looked distraught. Ned considered going over to comfort her but he didn't want to get sidetracked. She would start talking about how much Ned reminded her of her late husband and would then start reminiscing. Last time she'd spent four hours describing the ins and outs of their pantry at home. Apparently the late Mr Bowl had been a keen pickler.

  'Do you know where I can find the Upper Circle?'

  Instantly Ma Bowl's demeanour changed. She bristled with dislike and huffed a little.

  'I don't know why you want to talk to that hussy.'

  'It's an ongoing line of questioning. Can you help me?'

  Ma softened. 'Of course I'll help you, Ned. You know, you remind me so much of my late husband Derek...'

  'She would be?'

  'Fourth floor. Left wing,' Ma sniffed. 'She's got the whole floor to herself but I don't see why someone like that should have so much space. They should give it to someone who actually does a lick of work around here.'

  After thanking Ma, which involved a rather floury hug and the acceptance of some forlorn looking baked goods, Ned set off for the fourth floor. The corridors were eerily quiet. Usually there would be servants scurrying. The servants of the Emperor were very good at scurrying – it was a natural talent to those families who had served the Palace for generations. It boiled down to being able to hurry from job to job without actually doing any work or being caught not doing any work and ferrying that all important servant currency – information. Ned had hoped to chat to a few maids on his way to the fourth floor but there was no-one around. There weren't even any guards. Everywhere he looked he could see evidence of neglect building up. Plants were withering in their plant pots. Mirrors had lost their gleam and the shiny brass knockers on the doors were tarnishing. Everything seemed duller and colder. But the things that bothered him the most were the spiderwebs. There shouldn't be any spiderwebs in the Palace. Those maids that weren't on scurrying duty would have been on cleaning duty. Huge webs hung in darkened corners and the further Ned travelled into the Palace the bigger the webs became. Thankfully there was no evidence of the creatures that would live in such webs, but as soon as Ned thought that thought he started to consider where they might be. His skin began to crawl so vigorously that he had to stop and scratch all over five times before he made it the left wing door on the fourth floor. At one point he thought an actual spider was sitting on his shoulder and he screamed. It was clearly a loud scream as it broke the illusion, no giant webs and no spiders. Just someone having a bit of magical fun. Worryingly, absolutely no-one came running to investigate. Ned didn't know whether to be thankful or more concerned.

  The large doors that led onto the left wing were firmly closed and ice cold to the touch. Ned's breath curled out of his mouth. He dipped into his spell-caster pockets to give him the juice to see what wards were in place. It was a 'go-away', a rather good one. Ned definitely felt like he would rather be anywhere but here. He pushed against the door and it swung noiselessly open. He shivered as he went through the doorway. It was like walking into another world. For one thing, there were staff bustling - that's one up from scurrying. Warm lamps were lit and the smell of cinnamon hung in the air. As Ned walked along the corridor he glanced into a couple of the open doors. They all seemed to open into one large room where what looked to be the thousand and one wives of the Emperor were g
athered. They were doing whatever it was that large groups of women do together. Gossip and laughter hummed in the air and several of the young male servants were blushing furiously.

  Ned felt relieved that the Warlock wasn't holding all the Emperor's wives hostage, but he was also slightly confused as to why they were all here. No-one seemed remotely bothered at his presence so he continued walking down the corridor until he reached a door ajar at the end. He knocked twice, then went in, not quite expecting what he saw.

  The Upper Circle was sitting on the floor playing with a kitten while the High Right and High Left were suspended upside down from the ceiling. They didn't look at all happy about it and were struggling to keep their robes from obscuring their faces and showing everyone their nethers. Ned held his composure, just, because the High Left was losing the battle and an extremely red, spotty pair of bloomers were coming into view.

  'Thief-catcher! Caught anything good lately?' The Upper Circle dissolved into giggles and it took a few minutes for her to collect her composure. 'Can I kill Joe yet?'

  'Erm, no Your Eminence.'

  'Caught onto that one as well didn't you? Ah well, couldn't hide it forever. Bet you'd love to know whose fathering the kids, hmm?' She tapped the side of her nose but missed it by a few inches and then went cross eyed trying to find the end of it.

  'Have you been er... celebrating?'

  'You could say that. I mean, why not celebrate a coup you can't uncoup. It's better than crying over spilt kingdomness.' The Emperor's eyes filled with tears. 'Don't make me cry! I'm in charge, I say there will be no tears.' She wagged an unsteady finger in Ned's general direction.

  'Why are the Highs up there?'

  'They didn't appreciate my choice of wine.'

  Ned gently wove a fall-and-catch spell and unhooked the one keeping the Highs stuck to the ceiling. They tumbled gently to the floor and murmured their unsteady thanks. The kitten went over to investigate and see whether there would be any food from the newcomers while Ned shouted for coffee into the corridor, not caring who carried out the order.

  'We can't just sit here and give up. The warlock is trying to rid the world of love and I reckon that wouldn't be a good thing. I'm sure between us all we can figure out something. Clearly you have some power left.' Ned said encouragingly as he looked at the Emperor who was wiping her runny nose on a rather grubby looking sleeve.

  'Well, yes, I've got a bit but it's here in my wing. Hereditary resonance. Ingrained in the walls. I can't take it with me and the Warlock knows that so she's not coming in here and I'm not going out there.'

  Ned nodded to himself and started thinking aloud.

  'What we need to do is to find the man who jilted her – see if we can't force some kind of reconciliation or at least an apology. Maybe that will stop the warlock from destroying the last rose.' He frowned. 'Why hasn't she?' Surely there is nothing in her way now if you are all in here.'

  The Emperor was giggling hysterically.

  'Someone else has stolen it!' She collapsed in laughter, tears streaming down her face. 'I have no idea where it is.'

  The Emperor went back to playing with the kitten who had returned to her while Ned took stock for a moment. It seemed that every time he got a toe-hold on what the hell was going on someone changed all the rules, again.

  'When was it stolen?' Ned asked.

  The Emperor didn't reply so Ned looked at the Highs for some assistance.

  'We don't know precisely.' The High Left looked extremely embarrassed. 'It must have been within the past day or so.'

  'Right, but the Warlock did steal some of the original roses, didn't she?'

  'We believe so, yes.'

  Ned nodded - something was missing, things didn't add up. If the warlock was the Rose Thief why hadn't she started with the rose of love instead of taking the others first? If someone else was already planning to steal the love rose, then who killed Two-Face Bob? He obviously knew what was going on as he had supplied the special manure. Unless the warlock had been acting out, a woman scorned and all that. Too bad for Two-Face. Ned tried to summon up some sympathy but found he didn't care. The High Priestess on the other hand – that was murder. That she would pay for, this Warlock who was messing with his city.

  'I'm going back to HQ. Are you alright here?' Ned asked.

  The two Highs forced smiles on their faces and loudly confirmed all was well as they walked Ned out of earshot of the Emperor.

  'You have to do something,' hissed the High Right. 'We can't stay here indefinitely – the Emperor isn't safe. People might start finding out that he's not who she said she was, he was, is... the point is everyone knows the Emperor is a strong man who leads his city empire with dignity and honesty. Everything would fall apart if people found out he's a woman! I mean, the very idea.'

  Ned stared at the High Right in silence and he trailed off. 'I think we have bigger problems than who finds out the Emperor is a woman. Keep everyone in here, you seem to be protected for now. I might have a way to get rid of the usurper, I just need to find someone. I'll report back as soon as I can.' Without waiting for a reply, Ned left the same way he had entered. He was fairly sure the lack of staff was a deliberate ploy by the Warlock designed to make intruders feel brave and therefore willing to explore, but Ned was feeling decidedly disinterested in the whole bloody affair. He'd been working this case hard, trying to find out who the Rose Thief was and now that he had finally got to the bottom of it there was another thief who no-one knew anything about. Everything was screwed up. He barely noticed walking back through the kitchens and forgot to say goodbye properly to Ma Bowl – an action that would come back to haunt him several months down the line when he popped in to pay his respects and received a short, sharp, whack round the lughole with a metal spoon. It drew blood and got infected, but that is another story. Ned let his feet take him back to the office without thinking about it. There had to be something he'd missed.

  Chapter 15

  Ned finished telling his team what he had found out at the Palace. There was a long silence. Sparks didn't talk anyway but even he could not think of anything worth flashing his butt about. After watching everyone's reaction, Ned noticed how sheepish Joe was. He had dug his feet into the floor and was turning them nervously and kept shooting covert glances up at Ned.

  'Is there something you'd like to share, Joe?' asked Ned.

  Joe blushed and stammered. 'No, n n n n nothing.'

  But he couldn't hold his composure with the whole team glaring at him, especially when Jenni started cracking her knuckles at him.

  'Okay, fine, I know where the love rose is.'

  Ned snorted. 'Let me guess, it was you who stole it.'

  'Not exactly.' The ends of Joe's ears began to turn pink. 'Well, sort of. I told Mia's ex I could get it and suggested that it might be a good idea for him to take it away from here before she did.'

  'You stole the rose? When? How?'

  'Wot? 'Ow did you steal the rose?'

  Sparks had gone mad, flashing his butt left, right and centre.

  'Quiet!' Ned shouted to make himself heard. 'Enough! Joe, are you seriously telling me that you've already stolen the red rose? And that this whole time you've known where your sister's bloke was?' He ran a hand through his hair. 'You didn't think it was worth sharing this with the rest of the group?'

  Joe gulped. 'You have to understand, it's a matter of trust.'

  'Yeah, as in you ain't got any of ours.' Jenni was scowling.

  Joe looked around at the hostile room sadly. 'I don't want anything bad to happen to my sister.'

  'It's a bit late for that,' muttered Ned.

  There was a subdued quietness until a loud fart rattled the room. Everyone immediately looked at Jenni who, feeling it was some of her finer work, took a small bow.

  'Tell me, who is this jilted lover?' asked Ned.

  The vine holding Joe loosened a little. Willow was absorbed by the story, forgetting to maintain the mental lock.

  '
I can't tell you, I'm sorry.' Having worked his hand free Joe clicked his fingers and vanished.

  'What just happened? You were supposed to be holding him! I thought you said no one was getting in?' Ned yelled at Willow and then Jenni.

  Willow flushed and avoided Ned's gaze but Jenni stared right back at him.

  'I did, Boss and they 'ent. You never said nuffink about people leaving. You gotta be spific.'

  Ned scrunched a piece of paper on his desk into a tiny ball, trying not to scream out loud in frustration.

  'Have we thought Joe might be lying to us?' Willow spoke softly and began weaving the loose vines into a complex basket.

  'No – really? You think?' Ned was unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

  'I mean, what if he's the lover?' Willow refused to look directly at anyone.

  Jenni was scowling again. 'Wot? 'is sister's lover? That's sick, innit.'

  'No – you might be onto something there ,Willow,' said Ned. 'What if indeed. Sparks, get me Joe's recruitment file.'

  There was a short flurry of action as the file was found and then emptied on the table. A moment of silence followed as each piece of information was sifted through. There wasn't much – a mug shot, confirmation thief-catcher papers from the Palace and an empty space on the next of kin paperwork.

  'Guys, we have to fill this stuff in better.' Ned complained.

  Everyone avoided making eye contact. Ned had been the one to complete the paperwork this time. He peered closer at the mugshot. There was something in the background, something familiar. It was Neeps' head and the corner of The Daily Blag newspaper building. He could tell because of the large amount of pigeon droppings - the birds were attracted by the printing chemicals. Something about eating it made the pigeons act crazy and then crave more ink. Excessive consumption of a particular ink colour would begin infusing the pigeon feathers, a little startling when the ink was blue or red. The real problem was the lethal toxicity, but by that time the pigeons were too addicted to care and the city milliners enjoyed working with the excellent plumage.