by Chrys Cymri
‘Yes,’ I squeaked.
His nose twitched. ‘Talisker. Good whisky. I approve. ID, please.’
The passenger window rolled down, revealing the face of the Minister without Portfolio. ‘Pierre, I can see with my own eyes that she’s Penny.’
‘Just doing my job, ma’am.’
His accent was a mixture of French and American. ‘You’re a long way from home,’ I noted as I dug out my wallet.
‘Much warmer in Los Angeles,’ Pierre agreed. I handed over my driver’s licence, which he touched to his tongue.
I lowered my voice. ‘That’s not what I meant.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I’m a trained security professional from California. That’s what you need to mean.’
Awkward sentence but a clear message. I nodded, and he returned the card. As he strode back to the car, I wiped the licence on my trousers before returning it to my wallet.
Pierre opened the passenger door, and Sue Harkness stepped out. She was around my height, although elegant heeled shoes added another inch. Despite her early start, her shoulder length grey hair was immaculate, and I had to fight an impulse to straighten mine. The dark skirt suit clung to her trim figure.
‘Welcome, Minister,’ I said as she walked over. ‘Please, come in.’
She elected to have a black coffee, and to sit in the kitchen rather than the living room. ‘The centre of a home, the kitchen,’ she commented. To my relief, she took a seat with her back to the garden. ‘You can learn a lot about a person from their kitchen. Is that a Dalek cookie jar in the corner?’
‘What else would it be?’ Morey muttered from his place on the counter.
‘A present from my first husband,’ I said.
‘Ah, yes, congratulations on your upcoming wedding.’ Sue smiled. ‘I must send you something special from my cellar.’
‘That’s very kind of you.’
‘Penny, is your Associate in the room?’
Morey stood. ‘She doesn’t have the Sight. Well, that can be easily sorted.’
‘He’s here, yes.’
Sue held up a hand. ‘Please don't have him brush against me. Actually, could you ask him to leave? I’d rather have this conversation with you alone.’
I opened my mouth to protest. But Morey stood, stretched, and said, ‘I’ll go see how Clyde is getting on.’
‘Why not have Morey here?’ I asked once the gryphon was outside. ‘He can be trusted to keep things confidential.’
‘He’s from Lloegyr.’ Her manicured fingernails rapped against the table. ‘His first loyalty will be to his own country.’
Something she had said to me once before. I sipped from my tea, wondering if she really didn’t know that her driver/bodyguard was also from Daear. ‘Thank you for the visit to the frost fair, by the way. I’m sorry, I think I’ve never come back to you about that.’
Sue laughed and waved my concern away. ‘You were kidnapped by a dragon. I forgive you.’ She put down her coffee and leaned back in her chair. ‘Penny. You seem to have developed a rather unique connection to Lloegyr.’
‘My work has been with the Diocese of Llanbedr,’ I replied cautiously. ‘Not really much wider than that. Peter and I only went to Scotland because your department asked us to.’
‘Even so, you’ve spent more time in our sister country than anyone else I know. And I do my best to know about these things.’ She gave me a nod. ‘How many people could have convinced Nessie to return to her own seas?’
‘Peter and I make a good team.’
‘You spent your sabbatical in the Diocese of Llanbedr, I understand.’
‘The town of Caer-grawnt.’ How much of this did she already know? I wondered. Her face gave so little away.
‘You weren’t tempted to make it a permanent position?’
I laughed, giving myself a few seconds to come up with a safe answer. ‘I missed modern comforts.’
‘Facebook and Spotify?’
‘Indoor plumbing and central heating.’
‘Fair enough.’ A slight shift around her mouth made me straighten in my chair. ‘I have a request to make of you, Penny. Well, Her Majesty’s Government is making the request, but I can assure you, it’s not a hanging offence if you decide to decline.’
I bit back several sarcastic replies. ‘What can I do for you, Minister?’
‘There have always been people crossing over from our world to Lloegyr, and assorted creatures coming from theirs to ours.’
‘Knights fighting snail sharks,’ I agreed. ‘And all the legends about dragons, unicorns, gryphons, and so on. You get those stories all over the world.’
‘But the numbers coming to England are on the increase.’ Sue lifted her mug. ‘May I have another? Excellent coffee, just what I needed.’
I poured a refill from the pot, then returned to my seat. ‘Who’re you worried about?’
‘One particular group,’ she said. ‘Vampires.’
Somehow I managed to keep my face straight. ‘Really? How do you know? I mean, don’t vampires spend most of their time as bats?’
‘We know when livestock become lethargic through sudden blood loss.’ Sue sniffed. ‘And the absolute mess vampires leave in the churches they’ve invaded.’
‘Do we know why they’re leaving Lloegyr?’
‘Whatever the reasons are, we can’t take in any more colonies. They don’t assimilate, and what will they do when they run out of cows? There aren’t enough jobs for those who belong to this country. The welfare state is already creaking.’
‘You’re worried they’ll bleed the country dry?’
Sue gave me a sharp look, but I kept my face fixed in an attentive frown. ‘Don’t you have a colony in St Wulfram’s?’
‘Yes,’ I said, deciding to be honest. ‘But they’re not a problem. The magister and I have come to an understanding. And some of them are asking about baptism.’
‘Don’t let them think that gives them any right to settle here,’ Sue said sharply. ‘It’s not a stepping stone towards British citizenship.’
‘Exactly,’ I replied. ‘Baptism is entry to a far more important kingdom.’
Her narrowed eyes searched my face. This time, her smile was more calculating than warm. ‘I can see why Nigel appointed you as Vicar General of Incursions. I think I can trust you, Penny. Can I trust you?’
‘Depends what you want from me.’
‘We’d like to know why colonies are trying to emigrate to Great Britain,’ Sue said. ‘And we’re hoping you can help us.’
‘I could talk to the magister in St Wulfram’s.’
She shook her head. ‘They’ve been here for awhile, and we need to hear from more recent migrants. We’ve been tracking one particular colony in Lloegyr. They’ve been travelling on foot towards Llanbedr. We think they’re heading for the thin place in the cathedral. Could you pay them a visit?’
‘On foot?’ I stared at her. ‘Why aren’t they flying?’
‘Exactly.’ The smile was wide and looked genuine. ‘How many people would have thought to ask that?’
‘I have duties here--’
‘And an associate priest, and a curate no doubt eager to prove herself.’ Sue leaned forward. ‘Penny, there are many people who can do the work of a parish priest. There aren’t many who have your ability to connect with creatures from Lloegyr.’
This was the second time she’d used the term ‘creatures’, and I shifted uncomfortably on my chair. ‘The Archdeacon of Hammtun is a vampire. He could go. Or my curate. She’s also a vampire.’
‘What a happy coincidence.’ Sue tapped a forefinger against her chin. ‘But we’d prefer to send one of our own. A human.’
‘Happy coincidence my ass,’ Morey snapped. Somehow he’d managed to sneak his way into the kitchen without me noticing. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he flew up to land beside the kettle. ‘I bet her office arranged for Skylar’s legal paperwork. Your bishop and the minister. I’m not sure which I trust less.’
‘I think she’s trustworthy, even if I don’t know her very well,’ I said, trusting the sentence to speak to both of my listeners. ‘But I can’t let this interfere with Skyler’s training. Or my duties here.’
‘Your duty is to your Queen and country,’ Sue said sharply. Then her expression softened. ‘I don’t have the Sight, Penny, and I don’t want to have it. Shall I tell you why?’
‘I’d certainly like to know,’ Morey grumbled.
‘I’d have thought you’d want an Associate of your own,’ I said. ‘Take Morey, for example. He can be a pain in the backside, but I couldn’t imagine life without him.’
The gryphon fluffed his feathers. ‘Thanks. I think.’
‘Lloegyr is full of marvellous creatures, a land which looks like England might have done, had we not cut down our trees, ploughed up our lands, and poured poisons into our rivers.’ Sue shrugged. ‘Or so I understand. I’ve noticed that too many of our people become enraptured with Lloegyr. For some of them, it’s the unicorns. Others become fixated on elves, or dragons. So I choose not to have the Sight. I want to keep my vision clear.’
‘You’re not worried that I might have gone native?’
‘I might have done, once. But you’re getting married. You know where your priorities lie, and that’s with your own race.’
I found myself twisting the engagement ring around my finger. ‘Peter’s a good man. I’m very lucky.’
‘I’ve never found love even once,’ Sue agreed, ‘and you’ve found it twice. Not something to be taken for granted. I hope you have good weather on the big day. I suppose you might have some influence in that regard?’
That made me laugh. ‘Like I always say to brides, when they ask for good weather, “I’m in sales, not management.”’
Sue laughed as well, then glanced at her watch and rose to her feet. ‘Rats are tracking the colony’s movements. At their current progress, by Friday they’ll be near a thin place which, on our side, is just outside Kettering. I’ll have the exact location sent to you, and a tacsi dragon will wait for you on the other side.’
‘Doesn’t take no for an answer,’ Morey commented. ‘I do hope we never develop politicians in Lloegyr. I’d rather take my chances with a hydra.’
I forced myself not to pull out my new iPhone and search for images of hydras. ‘I can arrange to be near Kettering for 10am on Friday.’
‘Good. Do you mind if I use the facilities?’
‘Not at all,’ I said, suddenly pleased that all my hard work hadn’t been in vain. I showed her the door and waited outside.
‘Great photo in there,’ Sue said as she emerged. ‘You look so happy standing in the TARDIS set. I’m a bit surprised that the crew allowed you to put a toy snail shark on the console, particularly with those sharp looking teeth. I love the detailed stitching around the shell, by the way.’
‘I like taking the toy with me, and the guide was very kind,’ I said, forcing myself to keep calm. ‘Thank you for calling in, Sue. I’ll let you know how I get on with the vampires.’
‘Please do.’ She handed me a card. ‘That’s my private mobile number. I’ll trust you to use it wisely.’
Pierre escorted her to the car. The Jaguar purred off the drive. I closed the door and stared at dark wood for a moment. Then I stumbled backwards, my hands searching for the stairs. I sat down on the second step and lowered my face into my hands.
‘Penny?’ Wings rushed past my head, and I heard Morey land just above me. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Go into the loo,’ I told him. ‘Look at the photo.’
‘I don't have to. It’s you and Clyde visiting the Doctor Who set.’
‘Sue saw Clyde. Sitting on the TARDIS console.’
‘But, but, but--she said she doesn’t have the Sight!’ Morey sounded caught between surprise and outrage. ‘She shouldn’t have been able to see him at all!’
‘Exactly.’ I removed my hands and glanced over my shoulder. The gryphon’s feathers and fur were standing on edge. ‘But she thought he was a toy. I can’t see how anyone wouldn’t see him as a real snail.’
‘Let’s think this one through,’ Morey said. He climbed down the stairs to sit beside me. ‘She knows what snail sharks look like, so she’d also know that only someone with the Sight would be able to see one. So why tell you that she doesn’t have the Sight, then give herself away like that?’
‘But she saw him as a toy.’ I shook my head. ‘This doesn’t make any sense.’
‘The human mind is very good about explaining things away. And,’ Morey added quickly, ‘please don’t give me that Doctor Who quote yet again.’
‘“Do you remember the Zygon gambit with the Loch Ness Monster? Or the Yeti in the Underground? Your species has an amazing capacity for self-deception.”’ I grinned. ‘My favourite Doctor. Always worth quoting.’
‘I need to wash my mind out with some Aquinas,’ Morey grumbled. ‘This is a puzzle, Black.’
‘Which we’re not going to solve today.’ Then I yelped as the gryphon suddenly nipped my ear with his sharp beak. ‘What’s that for?’
‘You could’ve taken that photo to the cathedral to find out who has the Sight. I needn’t have been there at all.’
‘But that wouldn’t have been as much fun.’
‘For whom?’
The rattle of the cat flap made me rise to my feet. ‘Saved by the snail,’ Morey commented as Clyde slid into the hallway.
‘Clyde?’ I asked. ‘What’s wrong?’
Orange and green swirled around his body. His tentacles writhed as he said, ‘Manticore.’
Chapter Fifteen
By the time I’d remembered that I was wearing my best shoes, I was already standing in the damp back garden. The snail sharks were crowded together on the patio, eyespots fixed on the creature chomping away on weeds and grass.
At first, all I saw was a large lion. The body shifted, and the tail rose over the back. The end was a bright red bulb, with a long stinger, like that on a scorpion. He raised his head, and I found myself staring into the face of a human male. Thick brown mane surrounded his bearded face. ‘Yo,’ he said, in a ponderous voice. ‘Great grub.’
If nothing else, it was good to meet someone who approved of my back garden. ‘You like the weeds?’
The manticore slowly lowered himself onto his hindquarters. A plate-sized forepaw rose from the ground, and he scratched under his chin with the long black claws. ‘I s’pose. Nice enough.’
‘I can lead you to some good hunting,’ Morey said from my shoulder. ‘If you’d like something more substantial than greens.’
‘Don’t hunt.’ The manticore tore at the nearby bushes as if to prove a point. ‘Too much work. Greens easier.’
‘I know just the place for you,’ I said cheerfully. ‘Open countryside full of greens. Would you like to go there?’
The manticore chewed, his black eyes roving around the garden. ‘Good stuff here.’
Clyde, who had been standing at my feet, slid forward. ‘Our garden.’
‘You eat grass?’ the manticore asked.
‘No.’
‘Then no problem.’
A breeze brought over the smell of cat. And a stench which, I saw now, came from a large green pile steaming behind the manticore. The snail sharks pulled back as one, their bodies in various shades of brown and black. Several retreated into their shells. ‘Eating is not the problem,’ Morey muttered into my ear. ‘Herbivores. They have such messy digestive systems.’
I put on my biggest smile. ‘The countryside is through a thin place just behind you. Why don’t you have a look?’
The manticore’s ears flicked. ‘Philip.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Then I understood. ‘Oh, nice to meet you, Philip. I'm Penny, this is Morey, and that snail shark is Clyde.’
‘And Penny’s right,’ Morey said. ‘There are acres of grass on the other side of the thin place. And gorse bushes, if you like that sort of thing. Very pretty yellow flo
wers.’
‘Yellow flowers,’ Philip repeated thoughtfully.
‘Clyde will show you the way,’ I told him. ‘Right, Clyde?’
The snail scurried back to my feet. His eyespots waved at me. ‘Poo.’
I tried to remember the location of the crossings. ‘Okay, yes, the droppings are very near. But you can scoot around to the right, can’t you?’ The blacks and yellows chasing around his body told me what he thought of that idea. ‘Clyde, we either move him on, or he stays to eat and, well, leave more piles of manure. Which would you prefer?’
Clyde said a word in Welsh which I pretended not to hear. I’d have to find a moment to explain to him why he shouldn’t use such language in front of the other snail sharks. For now, I bit my tongue as I watched him climb over tufts of weeds to meet with the manticore. ‘Follow me.’
Philip turned, moving his heavy body slowly and carefully. Clyde twisted around the dung. The manticore seemed less bothered, his paws dragging through the trailing edge. The snail shark leapt up, passing through the thin place. Philip stumbled over the edge, then fell through.
‘Well, that answers one thing I’ve always wondered,’ I said to Morey. ‘The bit which wasn’t thin place didn’t cut off his feet.’
‘Of course not.’ The gryphon turned his head to look at me. ‘I could’ve told you that.’
Clyde reappeared a moment later. Unfortunately, he misjudged his leap, and he landed in the middle of the droppings. The snails sighed as one, tentacles writhing in distress. Several more took refuge within their shells.
I hurried over, cursing the fact that I was wearing my best clothes. Morey took off as I leaned over and, with one last pang of grief for my jacket, reached deep into the excrement and pulled out the snail shark. ‘Bath,’ I told Clyde. ‘For both of us, I think.’
‘Can you bathe a snail shark?’ Morey asked, circling over my head.
‘We’re about to find out.’ I stomped to the house. ‘I should think cold water will be okay. It’s no worse than him being caught out in the rain, after all.’