by Crook, Amy
“Glad to be of service, then,” said Alex with a chuckle.
“Will you be needing me after this?” asked Jones curiously.
Alex smiled. “We won’t, but if you want to come up for a curry you can.”
Jones was quiet a moment, then he asked, almost shyly, “If I leave the amulet in the car, will it stay protected?”
Alex thought about this. “It should, but I might be able to make sure it will with very little expenditure of energy, too.”
“Then, yes, please,” said Jones, sounding relieved. “It’ll be nice to eat a meal that’s not in the driver’s seat for once.”
Once they got themselves parked in Alex’s garage, Alex sat for a minute humming at the amulet, convincing it that the car was very necessary and needed protection along with anyone at all inside. Eventually it believed him, and Alex hung it from the rear-view mirror, blinking to realise it was just him and Jacques.
“They took the food up already,” said Jacques. “You were a few minutes.”
“Well,” said Alex with a chuckle, “at least there’s likely to be tea when we get upstairs.”
“And the elevator’s still working.” Jacques helped Alex out of the car, which they locked before heading upstairs for lunch.
Alex was given another of his potions before he was allowed tea, but the pot was just-brewed when they got there so he didn’t even bother to sulk. After they ate, James went down with Jones to double check on the car while Alex changed back into pyjamas and installed himself on the couch with a book on protection charms and a pot of tea.
“Who are you going to make charms for?” asked Jacques curiously, sitting in his chair.
“You two, per Master Stephen’s suggestion, plus I thought maybe Jones could use one of the ones for safe travels, there’s some really nice ones you can make for businessmen and taxi drivers and the like,” said Alex. “I was going to read up a bit first before we talked about it, though.”
“Why do you have a whole book on them, anyway?” Jacques poured them both some more tea, and another cup for James.
Alex chuckled. “For work, of course. When cases are light at the Agency, I make potions and charms for the discerning client, and it’s also good to know how someone wearing a protection charm might’ve ended up dead regardless.”
“I suppose that would be useful in your line of work,” said Jacques dryly.
They both looked up as the wards shivered with James’ entry, but James was smiling as he locked them all in for the day. “Car’s doing well, Jones swears it’s cleaner than it was.”
Alex chuckled. “Well, I suppose dirt could be considered harmful to the finish,” he said, amused. “It’s a really complex amulet, not as smart as Horace but definitely more than a simple charm.”
James saluted Jacques with his cup and sat, sipping his tea. “So that book’s all charms?” asked James, nodding to the heavy tome in Alex’s lap.
“No, it gets into proper amulets later on, which is what I was really thinking of making you all,” said Alex, blushing a little. He had a feeling James at least knew that a real amulet was worth quite a bit more than any dozen charms, even personalised ones like Lapointe’s quit-smoking charm. Then Alex grinned, and teased, “Especially if I can keep borrowing Jones from my brother.”
They chuckled, but James and Jacques were exchanging serious looks. “A gift like that is more than just a gratitude token,” said Jacques.
“Good thing you’ve got a friend who wants to give it to you, then,” said Alex, a bit tartly. “Victor will pay gratitude to the Temple no matter what I do, anyway, it’s his way.”
They nodded. “If it’s a gift between friends, then that’s better,” said James, giving Alex a reassuring smile.
“That’s something we can use with good conscience,” said Jacques. “It will mesh well with our magic, because it was well-intended.”
Alex grinned. “That’s good, because I really will need ingredients from the two of you to make them, probably a bit of blood and maybe a few other things.”
“Ugh, don’t tell me there will be onion-chopping for tears,” said James, making a face.
Jacques giggled. “That was the only way they could get tears for his Guard-Knife.”
Alex laughed. “Blood, sweat and tears are a powerful combination,” he said, “but we’ll see what I come up with. Breath and hair are good, even semen can be useful though… Are you guys even allowed to, you know?”
“Masturbate ourselves blind?” said James wickedly.
“Well,” said Jacques after a long, torturous pause. “Not blind.”
~ ~ ~
Saturday the only trip out was to the chocolatier, who had made enough perfectly safe sweets so that Alex and his Guardians got a sample of everything in addition to the beautiful tower of treats Ellen provided for Julian’s gift. She assured them she herself had bought the ingredients, prepared, and boxed every single item and even assembled the gift tower with its jewel-toned velvet boxes and silver organza bows. Alex paid without a second thought, and they took the whole thing home to hide away in Alex’s isolation room, where it would be perfectly safe until the Masquerade.
They spent all day Saturday talking about magical theory, and Alex showed off a few of the things he’d made for himself as well as finally letting the Guardians see his isolation room for themselves. They hung out mostly in the work room itself, talking about materials and designs for the various amulets and charms Alex was hoping to create once this was all over. All in all, it was the perfect distraction, enough so that Alex dreamed of runes and magic and woke refreshed.
Well, as refreshed as he ever was first thing in the morning, anyway.
He spent the extra time in his rooms having a bath, but didn’t bother to dress, just wearing fresh pyjamas to breakfast. “Since when do you two have formal uniforms?” asked Alex, sitting down to pour himself a cup of tea. “And what time is the fitting or whatever again?” He’d given them his phone last night, just to be certain nothing would interrupt his sleep. He had a feeling he’d need all his wits about him a tonight’s Masquerade.
“Of course we do, and two o’clock,” said James, grinning. “Did you give them a nice steam for us to get the wrinkles out?”
Alex chuckled. “Of course,” he said. “Though I could hear the anti-wrinkle charms, so I doubt it made much difference.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” said Jacques, putting a plate down in front of Alex. Breakfast today was waffles, eggs, sausages, fried tomatoes, beans and fruit salad. They weren’t pussyfooting around on the most important meal of the day, apparently. “So, why is this important enough to send ants to kill you?”
Alex chuckled. “Well, the Masquerade is optional. Either the candidate isn’t sure who to choose for his top seven for whatever reason, which would be totally reasonable given one of them was just killed, or he’s decided already and wants to declare his choice without having to slog through the rest of it.”
“And if it’s the second one, you’re the most likely candidate,” said James. It was most definitely not a question, and it made Alex blush.
“Potion first,” said Jacques, when Alex picked up his fork. Alex sighed, but downed it, glad that it wasn’t likely to be part of his routine forever.
“Blech,” he said, washing it away with tea, and then a big bite of beans on toast. “Mm, but this is good.”
“I told you he’d like our plebeian swill,” teased James, cutting up his sausage in neat pieces.
Jacques chuckled. “Not longing for the fancy figs and tiny quiches of yore?” he asked, sitting down to dig into his own plate.
“They were pretty tasty, but no, especially not the company,” said Alex. “Even Willoughby was less annoying than Mother.”
“She’s not as bad as Armistead, though,” said James.
“Well,” put in Jacques, “she’s different, anyway.”
Alex was grateful for the Guardians’ easy banter, which helped kee
p him from worrying that his gift was boring, his outfit was stupid, and his estimation of his own place in Julian’s heart was inflated. Mostly.
“So,” said Alex, sitting back and rubbing his very full belly, “what’ll we do with the next few hours until we’re invaded by Gerard and his minions?”
“Which will be very interesting to get past your wards,” said James. “Did you warn him about them?”
“I told him to bring as little magic along as possible, and as few people,” said Alex, “And then I told him my wards might fry his coattails if he didn’t.”
“So, even odds, then,” said James with a smirk.
“I think we should play cards, and then taste all the stuff from Saveur,” said Jacques.
Alex laughed. “If I can digest enough of breakfast to make room, it’s a plan.”
They took their tea out to the living room, where Alex shamelessly got tucked into blankets for more card games. The Guardians taught him the sort of game that might be started and stopped at any time, citing it as traditional when teaching newbies how to stay up for night watches. Alex thought they just enjoyed having the upper hand, since he’d been winning at gin two games out of three.
Lunch was light, and then they brought out the chocolate samples and passed things around, finding spiced pear truffles and slices of pear dried to a crisp like the apple things, only these were dipped in dark chocolate and actually really good. There were truffles made with mint and rose from the Benedict gardens, ones filled with a sweet cheese ganache, and ones that tasted of the first crisp bite of apple. There was a bar of chocolate flavoured with sage and crystallised lemon rind, and another one that had crystallised pear chunks with fragrant ginger.
“Well, if Julian isn’t impressed,” said Alex, letting a lemon mousse truffle melt in his mouth, “then I will take the box back and give him myself instead, because, damn.”
“Now I’m torn,” said Jacques.
James laughed and tossed a tarragon and honey truffle at him, which Jacques caught with that same eerie grace. They seemed just like any other friends until they did things like that, reminding Alex that they had trained and given up their whole lives to be Guardians of those people the Temple felt needed their lives preserved against a threat.
“Don’t worry,” said Alex with a chuckle, eating another of the addictive chocolate-covered pear crisps. “I’ll still love you enough to buy you chocolates.”
They laughed and kept chatting, and soon enough it was time to clear the treats away and make up a fresh pot of tea in anticipation of the arrival of Alex’s ridiculous costume. He wouldn’t have to leave for the Ball until six at the earliest, and he really, really hoped it wouldn’t take four hours to get him ready.
“We’ll dress before they arrive,” said James, “just in case.”
“All right,” said Alex, staying right where he was on the couch. He was warm and his leg didn’t even ache like this, so he was determined to stay there until forced out by the evil pressures of the designer. He’d even worn a button-up pyjama top in the hopes that they’d do his hair before making him stand up and fit the rest.
James vanished into Alex’s room, and when he came out he was looking every inch the Guardian of legend. His formal uniform had a stiff collar and broad shoulders, a belt for an actual sword, high boots and of course his Guardian medallion on a ribbon around his neck. It gave him the authority to accompany his charge anywhere, regardless of invitation or propriety.
“Damn,” said Alex. “I guess it’s good my head’s going to glow, or else no one would even look at me.”
Jacques laughed, leaning in the kitchen doorway and drying his hands. “Don’t give him a big head, or we won’t be able to fit you both in the car.”
Alex’s eyes went wide. “I have no idea how I’m going to fit that ridiculous head thing in the car, Jones is going to kill me.”
They laughed. “I’m sure your esteemed designer has taken that into account, since you’ll be doing one of those Hollywood entrances where we walk a gauntlet of press,” said Jacques. He tossed the towel back into the kitchen and said quite seriously, “That will be when you’re most in danger of being assassinated, we think.”
Alex sighed and nodded. “I’ll be careful,” he said, “and I’ll be relying on you.”
“We’re good for it,” said James, and Jacques smacked his arm on his way back to change into his own dress uniform. “What?”
“There’s confidence, and then there’s being an arrogant prick,” called Jacques from the depths of Alex’s room.
Alex chuckled. “I like a bit of confidence in the guys keeping me alive,” he called back.
James just looked smug.
~ ~ ~
The final dressing was every bit as tiresome as Alex expected. Gerard showed up with the taciturn tailor and an equally grumpy-looking hair-and-makeup person, who seemed determined to do something horrible to Alex’s eyes. They left him right where he was on the couch to start with, Gerard explaining that the headdress had been designed to lay down flat for the ride, and would spring up and start to glow as soon as Alex triggered it. They made him practice a few times, and then once Gerard was satisfied it was properly dramatic, he was left in the hands of the hairdresser.
“How does it all come off?” asked Alex, as she pulled out a kit bigger than some toolboxes Alex had seen and started choosing things with which to torment him.
“Same way it stays in place all night, magic, some of it,” she said. “I’ll give you a special wipe for your face, and the hair stuff just washes out with soap and water. I’m Sarah.”
“I’m Alex. And why do I need to wear stuff on my face?” asked Alex.
“Goes with the mask,” she said. “Shut up and close your eyes.”
“I want breaks for tea,” said Alex petulantly, but he did as he was told.
When it was all done, his hair had some of the same sparkles as the suit, and his curls had been turned to undulating waves that looked to him like some sort of eerie tentacles. The headdress seemed to emerge from the waves of it. The spines laid back neatly when he whistled it down, and stood out from his head in a three-dimensional halo when he activated their magic. His eyes had been blacked and shadowed and glittered, and he kept wanting to rub at his eyelashes.
She made him close his eyes again and sprayed his face with a gentle mist that was most definitely magical. “There, now if you do rub it, nothing will happen.”
“That obvious, am I?” asked Alex, reaching up to find his face smooth and dry.
“Everyone wants to rub their eyes,” she said. “Now, have more tea, because it’s about time for your final fitting.”
“Bless you,” he said, taking the cup she handed him and drinking half of it in one go. She’d also done something to his lips and cheeks and even brows, though he’d drawn the line at any sort of plucking. She said the extra make-up was just in case he had to take the mask off. He thought if he took the mask off he’d look like he’d been punched in the face.
“We’re ready for you, Alex,” said Gerard impatiently.
“Tea first,” said Alex, implacable. He lingered just a little stubbornly over the second half of the cup, which seemed to amuse Sarah.
He got up and allowed them to dress him, glad he chose nice pants that weren’t too revealing when he realised everyone, including Sarah, would be watching. “Clothe me or turn up the heat,” said Alex irritably when they’d gotten him stripped but neglected to start dressing him again, fiddling with the costume instead.
“Patience,” said Gerard.
“More tea,” said Jacques, handing him a fresh, hot cup. “You’ll need to have your potion and a snack before we go.”
“Ugh,” said Alex, but he was grateful for the tea. It was taken away again soon enough, and then he was poked and prodded and straightened and fluffed. He was allowed to keep his own shoes, socks, pants and watch fob, but everything else down to the watch chain was provided by the designer. Alex was als
o wearing a minor protection charm he’d dug out of his work room, but since that laid flat against his chest it didn’t even garner comment.
It seemed like forever before he was declared finished, then asked to sit and stand and walk, and by then he insisted on sitting and took a couple of aspirin to head off the ache he was starting to feel in his leg. They took his jacket away to make a few last adjustments, and left him in the kitchen for his potion and tea.
“How is it quarter to six?” asked Alex, as he dutifully ate the snack Jacques had shoved in front of him.
“I think your hair took two hours by itself,” said James, shaking his head. “I hope it’s worth it.”
“Well,” said Alex, finishing off the last bite, “mm, at least they’ll have a photo of me other than that awful one Victor sent in?”
“Do not speak of that photo, it’s hideous,” said Gerard, coming in with the jacket. “Now, put this on, it’s almost time.”
“I know, I know,” said Alex. “I suppose I should have a real one taken.”
“You should have yourself photographed in the first outfit we made for you, the black,” said Gerard, which surprised Alex. “It’s striking and unusual, and it will match the photos of this costume well.”
“I’ll think about it,” said Alex.
He finished off his tea and stood, letting them bustle him back out into the living room and into his jacket. The whole outfit was thick with spells to prevent the diamonds falling off, wrinkles, creases, tears, stains and any other mishaps, and Alex found it rather comforting after a fashion. It reminded him of his shoes, which were as polished and scuff-free as the day he’d taken delivery of them. They put the mask on, threading the ribbon carefully through the mesh of the headpiece, and he was done.
“All right, do I pass muster?” he asked, turning himself around.