by C. J. Archer
"Why those objects?" I asked. "There appears to be nothing similar about them, nothing connecting them." Except magic.
"I liked them," he said.
"Some didn't even appear all that valuable," Matt said.
"I simply liked the look of them." He indicated the door, urging us to leave.
"But there must be something about them that makes your collection unique," I went on, determined to get him to admit that they were magical objects.
"If you don't mind, my dinner guests will be arriving soon and my wife will be down."
Matt placed a hand under my elbow and steered me out of the room and out the front door. "Thank—"
Coyle slammed the door in our faces. Matt touched the brim of his hat. "I think he wants us to leave." He opened the carriage door for me and assisted me inside. "The Mapmakers' Guild hall in Ludgate Hill," he ordered Bryce.
I waited until we were rolling out of Belgravia before I told Matt what I'd felt. He didn't look at all surprised.
"I suspected as much," he said.
"How?"
"The lack of theme in his collection, and the lack of both rarity and value. Also your reaction when you touched the clock."
"I didn't give myself away to Coyle, did I?"
"I don't think he noticed."
I smoothed down my skirts, feeling a little deflated. What had Matt needed me for if he was able to guess without me?
"I wonder why he collects it all," Matt mused.
"Why does anyone collect anything? To possess something, or out of habit, perhaps. It seems to have earned him a reputation within certain circles, as he put it, so that in itself might be the driving force."
"I wonder if Daniel made that globe."
I'd assumed the globe had stood in the guild's hall for a long time, but I could be wrong. Now that I thought about it, I remembered feeling warmth coming off it the first time I'd visited the hall. I hadn't realized the warmth came from its magic.
Matt put a hand to his mouth to hide his yawn, but I saw it. I bit my tongue to stop myself asking if he needed a rest. We would speak to Onslow quickly then return to Park Street. It shouldn't take long.
Our arrival coincided with that of a half dozen guild members, including Duffield and Onslow. All except Onslow were accompanied by their apprentices, perhaps because he hadn't yet found a new one.
"Mr. Prescott!" Duffield exclaimed as the footman let us in. His lips stretched into a false smile. "What a surprise. And your lovely wife, too. How curious to see you both here at this hour."
"Are you feeling better, Mrs. Prescott?" Mr. Onslow asked, the ledger clasped to his chest beneath folded arms.
"Much, thank you," I said.
Matt inspected the globe in the center of the entrance hall, an exact replica of the one in Coyle's collection. He circled it and scuffed the toe of his shoe on the tiles, but I couldn't see any marks there.
Duffield looked at him as if he were an eccentric, albeit one he needed to court for his custom. Onslow, however, stared straight ahead, not looking at anyone or anything in particular.
"Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Prescott?" Duffield asked.
"We need to speak to you, Onslow," Matt said. "Immediately."
Onslow's droopy eyelid twitched. "Oh?"
"I am sorry," Duffield said. "But we're about to begin an extraordinary meeting. There was a break-in, you see, and we're trying to assess if anything was taken."
Onslow's fingers tightened around the ledger. He stared down at the floor.
I'd almost forgotten about the break-in, which most likely wasn't a break-in at all. The glass had been found outside, not inside.
I ambled up to Matt. The bronze globe looked heavy. It would take three or four men to move it. Men who probably had trouble carrying it and perhaps lost their balance and knocked out a window before leaving. I stroked my fingers across Europe. Warm, just like the one in Coyle's secret room.
"Mr. Onslow," Matt said to the treasurer. "I'd like to speak to you in your office before the meeting. It's regarding a commission for Lord Coyle."
Onslow's eyelid twitched madly. He didn't move, didn't acknowledge Matt at all.
"It's this way, isn't it?" Matt said, approaching the stairs.
"Coyle?" Duffield asked. "You know his lordship?"
"We're acquaintances. Mr. Onslow? Now, if you please."
Onslow hurried after him, his footsteps light and quick, his gaze downcast.
"Onslow?" Duffield called after him. "The meeting."
"I won't be long." Onslow blinked hopefully at Matt.
The three of us headed up the stairs to Onslow's office. Even inside with the door closed, Onslow didn't release his grip on the ledger. He clutched it tighter to his chest.
"What do you want?" he asked.
Matt held out a chair for me to sit on. When I did, he remained standing, as did Onslow. "We want you to tell us how you made the globe you sold to Lord Coyle," Matt said.
Onslow plopped down on the chair behind the desk. "I don't know what you mean."
"Then allow me to tell you what we know. I'm sure that will help you think. We know that you secretly sold the bronze globe that used to be downstairs to Lord Coyle."
"You're mistaken." Onslow laughed, a nervous giggle. "You just saw it. It's still there."
"That's a copy you had made. The exchange happened last night. There was no break-in. The broken glass was probably caused by Coyle's men removing the globe." So he'd worked it out too.
Onslow's smile faded. "Are you accusing Lord Coyle of theft?"
"I'm accusing you of theft. You sold it to Coyle without the guild's permission and kept the proceeds for yourself."
"I did not!"
"Not for yourself," I said, realizing our mistake. "You're giving the money to the guild."
Matt turned to me, a small dent between his brows.
"The entries in the ledger." I nodded at the book. "The amounts next to Coyle's name were high. Mr. Onslow wouldn't enter them in the book at all if he was keeping the money himself."
"Very clever." Matt sounded more than a little impressed, but I wasn't sure if he was referring to Onslow's scheme or my discovery of it.
"We don't care if you stole the globe for your own gain, or the guild's, or simply to appease Lord Coyle," I said. "We care about finding Daniel."
"The apprentice?" Onslow frowned. "What has this got to do with him?"
"Who made the globe, Mr. Onslow?" Matt asked.
"I did."
"No," I said. "Be honest."
"I am! That globe is my work. Ask anyone. I made the original and the copy you saw downstairs." He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. "So it was mine to sell. In a way."
Matt swore under his breath. I understood his frustration. If Onslow wanted to dupe us, we'd have to tell him the truth.
"The mapmaker who made that globe is a magician," I said.
"India," Matt warned.
I shook my head at him and he snapped his mouth closed, although I knew he wasn't happy about me speaking out of turn.
Onslow stared at me. "How…how do you know about magic?'
"That is none of your concern," Matt said. "We know that globe was magical, so you cannot possibly have made it unless you're a magician."
Onslow neither nodded nor shook his head. He sat perfectly still, as lifeless as the bronze statue holding up the globe.
Matt rubbed his hand over his jaw. "Ah."
"Don't tell anyone," Onslow blurted out. He pulled the ledger to his chin, as if he wanted to hide behind it. "Don't tell a soul. No one here knows and that's how it must remain. Do you understand?"
"We'll keep your secret," I assured him. "I am one too."
His eyes widened. He blinked back at me, searching my face. "Maps?"
"Timepieces."
Matt sighed. At least he'd given up trying to stop me.
"You can be assured of our silence," I told him again. "Utterly."
&nbs
p; Onslow nodded quickly, but the haunted look in his eyes didn't disappear.
"Did you know that Daniel Gibbons was magical too?" Matt asked.
"I hardly knew the lad." He looked as if he would lie then thought better of it. "He told me, the fool. He'd only recently learned about his magic. Apparently someone recognized it in him and told him how to identify magic in objects. Daniel realized my globe had magical properties. He asked Duffield who'd made it and Duffield informed him that it was my creation, made years ago. Daniel came to me and demanded I teach him spells. If I didn't, he'd tell Duffield—everyone—about my magic."
"He blackmailed you," Matt said.
That explained how Daniel learned the spells to make his magical maps. It must have been McArdle that informed him he was a magical, after seeking out the gifted mapmaker selling beautiful and unusual maps from his cart on Oxford Street.
"I tried to warn Daniel," Onslow went on. "I begged him to hide his magical ability, to draw simpler maps, but he wouldn't listen. He was a precocious braggart. He thought he was the best, and he wanted the world to know it."
A knock on the door startled Onslow and set his droopy eye twitching again.
"Coming!" he called, his voice high. "I have to go, and so do you both. Your being here is highly suspicious."
He strode to the door, but Matt got there first, blocking the exit. "What I don't understand is why you made that globe in the first place when you're so reluctant to admit to us that you're a magician."
"I made it before I was fully aware of the dangers of exposure. My father warned me too late—the globe had already been entered into the guild's Best Globe Award that year. My father had to tell the officials that I'd found the globe, not made it, in case anyone suspected it was magical. Nobody did, thank God, but the experience frightened me. I kept quiet about my magic after that. Until Coyle came along and wanted to buy the globe. I never wanted it displayed in the entrance here, where everyone could see it. I should have fought harder for it to be removed."
"How did Lord Coyle know it was magical?" I asked.
Onslow shrugged. "He didn't say. When I told him that it wasn't for sale, he said he'd expose me. I couldn't risk it. After hearing the tales of what was done to magicians in times past…" He shuddered. "Keep your identity secret, Mrs. Prescott. Be sure your wife does, sir."
"Yes," Matt said darkly. "I'm trying."
"What about Daniel?" I asked. "Do you think anyone else from the guild knew he was a magician?"
"I haven't the foggiest. I don't know where he is or what happened to him." He peered around Matt to the door. "I must go."
"One more question," I said as Matt stepped aside. "What does your globe do? It's beautiful, of course, but does its magic do anything?"
"It was designed to show the location of the guild hall. A tiny golden light used to appear on it in the precise longitude and latitude of this spot. In my youthful naivety I thought that would be a nice touch to appeal to the award judges." He huffed out a humorless little laugh.
"Used to?"
"The magic lasted only a few weeks. You know how it is." At my blank look, he added, "The magic is temporary. It always fades, sometimes after a few hours or days, sometimes weeks. You must have noticed that with your magic too."
"I'd forgotten," I lied. Onslow mustn't know about combining horology magic with other types to extend their usefulness. It seemed few did.
McArdle must. That's why he was so desperate to get his hands on the map Daniel created for him. The magic could expire any day and he'd be left with a lovely but useless map.
Another rapid knock thumped on the door. "Mr. Onslow!" came a youth's voice. "They want to start. I've been sent to fetch you immediately."
Matt stepped aside and Onslow muttered his thanks. He didn't leave until we walked out first, then wedged the ledger under his arm and locked the door behind us.
Once we reached the entrance foyer again, he hurried to the meeting room where Duffield stood by the door, tapping his foot on the tiles. He nodded at us as Onslow slipped past him. Cyclops emerged, carrying an empty silver tray, his expression bland. He didn't acknowledge us as he turned toward the service area.
The elderly footman saw us out. "Well," I said, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. "That was enlightening."
Matt's hand pressed into the small of my back. "Do you think he's telling— Who's there?" he snapped at the shadows behind the carriage. "Show yourself!"
I'd heard the footsteps too but assumed it was merely a passerby. I was about to tell Matt as much when a man stepped in front of us.
I gasped. "McArdle!"
Chapter 18
Matt shoved me behind him as he drew a revolver from the waistband of his trousers. He'd been carrying a gun all this time!
McArdle put up his hands. "Don't shoot! I want to talk."
"Get in the carriage," Matt ordered.
"No. We'll talk out here where we're on equal footing. Put the bloody weapon away."
Matt adjusted his grip on the gun handle. More footsteps sounded on the pavement, but no one appeared through the dark veil of night. Matt tucked the revolver back into his waistband and jerked his head toward the carriage. "Other side, out of sight." He grabbed McArdle's arm and marched him around the carriage. I followed, trotting to keep up. "India, get in."
I was about to protest when I realized I could hear them quite well from the carriage with the window down. I climbed in and lowered the window in time to hear Matt order Bryce to cover the carriage lamp. A moment later, we were plunged into deeper darkness. Lamps brightened the gloom further down the street, but very little light reached us.
"I don't know why you're being so suspicious," McArdle said to Matt. "You need me as much as I need you."
"If you know you need us, why did you run away last time?" Matt asked.
"I still thought I could find Daniel and my map on my own."
"And you didn't want to share your treasure with us."
"We don't want your coin hoard," I told him. "We only want Daniel."
The silhouette of McArdle nodded. "Then you have a partner in the search. Time is running out. We must find him."
He probably meant the magic in the map was running out, but I felt as if time was running out for Daniel too. He'd been missing for a week now.
"How did you know we'd be here?" Matt asked.
"I didn't. I went to your house, but you weren't there. I decided to come here and force them to give me Daniel's map. It's mine," he snarled. "I paid for it."
"Force who?"
"The other cartographers in the guild, and that man Duffield, in particular. He must know where my map is. He was Daniel's employer."
"If he had it, wouldn't he just give it to you?"
"Not if he knew it was magic. Him, and the artless like him, want to bury magic, keep it a secret to make their artless businesses more profitable."
"Artless?" I echoed.
"It's a word my father used to describe those without magic. It fits men like Duffield perfectly. The prick won't admit he has my map. If he destroyed it—"
"He doesn't have it," Matt said. "I do."
"What!" McArdle blurted out. "Why didn't you tell me before now?"
"You ran off last time before I had the chance." Matt's lie rolled off his tongue easily. We'd deliberately kept the information from McArdle when last we met, simply because we weren't sure if we could trust him.
We still didn't know, but if there was a chance that the map might lead us to Daniel, we had to take it. Mr. Gibbons's magic hadn't been able to connect with the map to find him, but the map hadn't been infused with his magic, nor had it been made for him. It had been made for McArdle. Perhaps it would respond to McArdle, as it was apparently intended to do.
I explained all this to him. "I know you're not a map magician," I told him, "but you are a magician, and this map belongs to you, in essence. It will reveal the location of the hoard only for you or Daniel."
"Unless the magic has run out," McArdle grumbled. "And anyway, how will revealing the location of the hoard lead you to him?"
"It might not, but I've been thinking." I looked to Matt. His eyes glittered back at me through the darkness, but his expression was impossible to see. He might stop me from speaking once he realized what I was about to say. "We recently discovered a way of combining my magic with map magic."
"You?" McArdle grunted a laugh. "Well, well."
"The combination led us to find Mr. Glass when he went missing."
"Is that so? Come on then, let's try. Where's the map now?"
"India, I don't think it will work," Matt said. "The situation is entirely different. I possess a watch you've worked on. Your magic responded to that."
"Just bloody try it," McArdle snapped.
"I know, Matt," I said. "But we don't have any other options left to us. Since McArdle is here, and we have the map, it's worth a try."
"You have the map here?" McArdle thumped Matt's arm. "Then what are you waiting for, man? Get it."
I may not have been able to see Matt's expression, but I knew he was holding himself back from thumping McArdle. He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out the map.
McArdle released a heavy sigh of relief. Matt pressed the map up against the closed carriage door beneath the window and McArdle laid both hands on it. I removed my gloves, reached through the window and touched it too.
The parchment warmed my fingers, but the heat didn't escalate beyond a mild tingling sensation. It felt nothing like the magic in Gibbons's workshop. Had the magic in this map faded already, or did it simply not respond because neither I nor McArdle created it?
"Anything?" Matt asked.
"No," I said.
McArdle removed one of his hands, and with the other still pinning the map to the carriage door, reached into his pocket.
Matt grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?"
"Getting this." McArdle held up something small and round between his thumb and forefinger. "It's the coin—from my hoard—that you stole from me. It grew warmer just now. It responded to the magic from the map." He placed the coin flat on his palm and looked down at it, as if waiting for it to leap off.