The Nest of Nessies (Penny White Book 6)

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The Nest of Nessies (Penny White Book 6) Page 5

by Chrys Cymri


  ‘I’ll be handing out copies of the full programme at the first session,’ Albert said. ‘We’re starting at two with our keynote address. Bishop Terwyn plans to talk about “Lloegyr and England: One in Christ”. Before supper, a historian from Llanbedr will give a historical overview of the interactions between our two countries. Then we have supper, after which, of course, we retire to the bar for the important conversations.’

  Mark grinned. ‘The type you can only have over a beer. Or two. Right?’

  ‘Right,’ I repeated slowly. The instructions Sue Harkness had sent by special courier rested in my back pocket. ‘I’ll join you if I can. I have some other work to do this evening.’

  ‘It’s never-ending, isn’t it?’ Janet asked sympathetically. ‘I had a message about a funeral just ten minutes ago. Which Associate is yours?’

  ‘The small purple gryphon on the stage,’ I said. ‘Mark?’

  ‘A full-sized gryphon. The eagle and tiger combination.’

  ‘Mine is a were-owl,’ Albert added. ‘He’s a bit grumpy at the moment, Gyver is. He didn’t like the hunting restrictions. I think he had his eye on the spotted woodpeckers.’

  Lunch passed pleasantly with more small talk. The chocolate cheesecake called to me, and in the end, I succumbed to temptation. I promised myself a good walk around the grounds the next morning to work it off.

  <><><><><><>

  Bishop Terwyn was a dwarf who spoke English with a thick Welsh accent. I spotted a number of Associates quickly interpreting his words for their human counterparts. The Bishop’s hour-long address emphasised that, regardless of physical form, the beings of both worlds had souls and were therefore created and redeemed by God. I wondered, during the question and answer session afterwards, whether I should ask him if this included snail sharks. But a question as to how dinosaurs could have fitted on Noah’s ark started an argument about literal versus metaphorical interpretations of the Bible, and I felt the moment had passed.

  The main lecture room was in a building separate to that of the Abbey, and we walked back through the grounds for our afternoon tea. The day was comfortably warm, and Morey swooped ahead alongside other winged Associates. Did they spend time swapping notes about their human partners? I wondered. Or did only humans engage in that sort of gossip?

  We went back to the lecture room for the pre-dinner speaker, who turned out to be a were-bear. I pulled out a notebook and pretended to take notes, as I couldn’t look at the shimmer around her for any length of time without bringing on a headache. I did learn many fascinating facts, such as contributions elves had made to mediaeval music and dwarves to digging out mines in Roman times.

  The evening meal was a more formal affair. Seating alternated with open spaces for those who would remain standing, such as unicorns. Priests and Associates had been deliberately split up, so on my left was a Vicar General from Derbyshire, and on my right the small black dragon. I conversed in Welsh with the latter, which brought admiring nods from the others at my table.

  Wine was available, and I reluctantly poured out no more than half a glass. Sue had arranged for the meeting to take place in a hotel in Milton Keynes, a thirty-minute drive away. And a half hour return, I reminded myself glumly. I could only hope that I’d be back before the bar closed.

  I left after a quick cup of coffee. The car park was full now. Several trailers, no doubt used to transport the unicorns, filled a number of spaces. I dug in my pocket for my car keys.

  ‘Nice evening for a drive.’

  Mark’s voice nearly made me jump. ‘It is,’ I said, looking up at him. Did he also have a ministerial invitation in his pocket? ‘I’m certain Milton Keynes is lovely at night.’

  ‘I’ve heard good things about the Centre Plaza Hotel,’ Mark said, the late evening sun glinting on his blond hair. ‘Supposed to be a nice place.’

  ‘Great atmosphere,’ I agreed. ‘You could almost call it parliamentarian.’

  ‘Especially the Harkness room.’ He studied me carefully. ‘Sounds like we’re going in the same direction, don’t you think?’

  ‘So sue me, I think you might be right.’

  Mark laughed. ‘Do you want a lift? It doesn’t make sense for both of us to drive.’

  ‘Gladly,’ I said gratefully, and I followed him to a dark blue Astra. ‘Remind me which diocese you cover?’

  We exchanged notes about our Associates as we drove into the city. As Mark explained the challenges of feeding and housing a horse-sized gryphon, I found myself thanking God that I had someone far more compact in my life. ‘Morey’s most annoying talent,’ I was saying as we pulled into the hotel car park, ‘is that he can quote chunks of the Bible from memory. And he’s always ready to show that off.’

  ‘Eurig wouldn’t know a Bible if it fell on him.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘He’s not a Christian.’ We slid out of the car, and Mark locked it behind us. ‘And he’s not particularly well read. To be honest, he’s not the sharpest knife in the block. We mostly operate on a, well, I guess you’d call it a functional level. He gives me the Sight, and I bring him sheep and goats. Sounds like you and Morey have much more of a relationship.’

  ‘Morey drives me nuts at times,’ I said slowly. ‘But he’s become one of my best friends. Maybe I didn’t realise how lucky I am.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter that much.’ The hotel’s glass doors slid open as we approached, and we entered a modern lobby of gleaming walls and large mirrors. My shoes squeaked on the polished marble floor. Mark lowered his voice as we walked to the reception desk. ‘I mostly deal with evicting vampire colonies from ancient churches and passing the occasional unicorn or minotaur on to the local police liaison. The majority of my time is spent on parish matters. What about you? Ever been to Lloegyr?’

  ‘How may I help you?’ the receptionist asked, saving me the trouble of finding a tactful reply.

  ‘We’re here for a meeting with Sue Harkness,’ I said. ‘Could you please tell us where to go?’

  ‘The Minister is holding her briefing in the Alan Turing suite,’ she told us. ‘Down the corridor, turn left, then first right. Or just follow the signs.’

  ‘A hero of mine,’ Mark commented as we exchanged hard floor for soft red carpet. ‘Just imagine where we’d be if Alan Turing hadn’t been persecuted.’

  ‘You mean in terms of computer development?’

  ‘No. I mean in terms of gay rights.’

  Then and there, I decided I liked this man. ‘My associate priest is in a civil partnership.’

  ‘My wife officiated at a same-sex wedding.’ At my glance, Mark added, ‘She’s a URC minister. It was agreed at a church meeting last year.’

  I pushed against the black door. It opened into a small meeting room, just big enough for a conference table in the middle and a mini bar at one end. I counted ten bodies and sixteen chairs. The Minister without Portfolio was at the bar, pouring out a drink for a dark-haired man. I frowned. There was something familiar about the set of his shoulders. He accepted the beer and turned. My heart skipped a beat. It was Peter.

  Chapter Five

  Peter’s eyes widened. For a moment we stared at each other. Sue followed his gaze, glanced at me, then back at Peter. I turned away and found a chair at the far end of the room.

  Mark placed his notebook on the chair next to mine. ‘Can I get you a drink, Penny?’

  ‘Yes, please. A double of Talisker, if they have any. If not, then any single malt whisky.’ There was no way I was going to the bar.

  Several more people arrived. I sipped at my whisky and busied myself with my iPhone. My Facebook feed featured a mixture of warnings about Brexit and photos of fluffy kittens, and I sighed to myself. I obviously needed to broaden my selection of friends.

  Sue drifted to the head of the table, and people started to fill the chairs. Peter ended up sitting across from me, and we did our best to avoid catching each other’s eyes. I polished off the Talisker and wished I’d aske
d for more than a double.

  My iPhone rattled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter look at his as well. The text filled the screen. I know that you two are no longer planning to marry. My condolences. But I’m certain I can trust both of you to act as the professionals you are? I need your help. Please don’t let me down. Sue H.

  I glanced at Peter. His face was pulled into a frown. As he met my look, I could see that we both had the same low opinion of Sue’s message. I simply responded, Yes. Peter’s response looked to be equally terse.

  Sue rose to her feet. She was wearing a dark blue jacket over a white shirt. Her grey hair was, as ever, perfectly styled. No doubt she’d already had a full day, but she looked as fresh as if it were still early morning. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming tonight. I know that most of you are attending the conference nearby, but those of you who have had a long journey, I hope a night in this lovely hotel will refresh you. Don’t worry about the bill, my office has already arranged for this to be paid.’

  I was tempted to ask her for a room. Morey seemed determined to claim my bed as his own.

  ‘Could I ask who’s here?’ Mark glanced down the table. ‘I know some people from the conference, but I’ve never met the others.’

  ‘First names only,’ Sue said calmly. ‘I’ve invited you all because you’ve had the most contact with creatures from Lloegyr. Some of you are from religious communities, others police, and a few are well, let’s say, independents.’

  ‘That’s me, darling,’ a bearded man drawled, leaning back in his chair. ‘Laurence, independent blogger and journalist. One day people will believe me when I say that dragons are flying over London.’

  ‘And in the meantime, you know more about dragons than almost anyone else in this room.’ Sue flashed a smile at me. ‘Which is why you’re here. I wanted us to get together and talk about our sister country. Share experiences, insights, and how we can better manage relationships with the creatures which cross over to our side. Laurence, why don’t you go first? Tell us more about the dragon colony in London.’

  ‘Certainly.’ The journalist leaned forward. ‘There’s about twenty dragons living in Greenwich. I’ve met with them many times.’

  I put up a hand. ‘What colours are they?’

  Laurence frowned. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

  ‘She wants to know if any of them are green,’ Peter explained. ‘Search dragons don’t often mix with others.’

  ‘Nope, no green ones,’ Laurence said. ‘Red, blue, a couple of the small black ones. They’ve been good about spreading out their hunting activities, but I know that deer populations are taking a hit. And some farmers, although I’ve told the dragons time and again to leave livestock alone.’

  ‘Why are they here?’ a woman asked.

  ‘I’ve asked,’ Laurence replied. ‘They say that they’re not welcome in their longhouses, for various reasons.’

  ‘Then there’s the problems in churches and other old buildings,’ Sue continued. ‘Father Andrew, I think you have a particular issue in your diocese?’

  A stocky priest nodded. ‘Vampires have settled in our churches, and a number of National Trust properties. They leave an awful mess.’

  The vampire colony in my own church was well behaved, but I didn’t want to highlight their existence. Not in front of the minister. I was relieved when someone else asked, ‘Have you tried talking to them? I managed to convince the colony in my church to move on.’

  ‘How?’ asked a man in a business suit.

  ‘I threatened to baptise them.’ General chuckles followed around the room. ‘Turned out that they were Jewish. They moved on to a nearby barn.’

  ‘Which doesn't really solve the problem,’ Sue declared. ‘They’re still in our country, taking blood from our farmers’ livestock.’

  ‘On the other hand,’ said an elderly woman, ‘the unicorn herd on my estate has been a real blessing. None of my cows or sheep have had any health issues since they’ve come. And visitors to the farm tell me how peaceful the place feels.’

  The businessman smiled. ‘That’s unicorns for you.’

  I bit my tongue at this usual misperception of unicorns. The Archdruid had proven herself to be far from peaceful. For some reason, as I thought of her, the words spoken by both Clyde and my bishop came to mind. ‘Black wings.’

  ‘Northamptonshire has seen a number of snail shark invasions,’ Peter volunteered. ‘Particularly around Earls Barton.’

  ‘Ugh, snail sharks,’ a young woman said with a shudder. ‘They attacked a baby in my town.’

  ‘They’re not all like that,’ I said quickly.

  ‘They’re vermin,’ the woman insisted. ‘Even people in Lloegyr don’t like them.’

  ‘For a while, we trapped them and sent them back,’ Peter said. He caught my eye and flushed slightly. ‘Some of the snail sharks did suffer as a result.’

  ‘Better than kids suffering,’ the young woman muttered.

  ‘There have always been comings and goings between our countries,’ Sue said. ‘When our island nation had a much smaller population, creatures from Lloegyr could easily find places to live away from humans. That’s not the case in the twenty-first century.’

  ‘It’s not helped by the social changes in Lloegyr.’ This came from a young man with green and red hair. I wondered what he did for a living. ‘You know, coming together to live in cities and towns, and them people who don’t agree with mixed-race relationships.’

  Laurence nodded. ‘Cadw ar Wahân. Some of the London dragons are here because of them. One’s married to a were-fox.’

  ‘How does that even work?’ the businessman asked. ‘I mean, the size difference alone?’

  The young man with the punk hair snorted. ‘Seriously? That’s so last century. If you love someone, you’ll find a way. It’s not all about object A going into slot B. Show some imagination.’

  ‘And if I might bring us back to the topic at hand,’ Sue said calmly, raising her voice to cut through the reactions. ‘I understand that there might be various reasons why a creature from Lloegyr wants to cross over to Britain. The question is, what do we do with them once they’re here?’

  ‘Do our best to send them back?’ The young woman smiled as all eyes came to her. ‘I mean, it’s not really easy for them to be here, either. And the big ones, like dragons and gryphons, how long can we feed them? And when they run out of things like deer to eat, or even farming animals, will they go after humans?’

  ‘Dragons,’ I pointed out, ‘have an advantage in any discussion. They can fly away. Or exhale fire.’

  ‘Why haven’t we thought of doing the same to Lloegyr?’ asked the businessman. ‘They came to us. Why don’t we send people over to the other side? From what I understand, the country is full of untapped resources.’

  ‘Which belong to the citizens of that country,’ I said, forcing myself to keep calm. This couldn't be allowed to turn into another Wiseman Agricultural situation. ‘I thought the United Kingdom had sworn off colonisation.’

  Sue smiled. ‘Depends on what benefits we could bring to them in return.’

  Suddenly I was very glad that the invitation had stipulated ‘No Associates or Familiars’. Morey would be hopping with anger. I rubbed my chin. ‘And what might that be?’

  ‘Oh, the usual,’ Peter said. ‘Roads, schools, hospitals. Civilisation.’ His face was blank, making it hard for me to decide whether he was being serious or sarcastic.

  ‘What is it like in Lloegyr?’ Sue asked, looking at me. ‘Penny has spent some time there.’

  I cleared my throat. ‘The various species are coming in close contact, true, now that so many are looking for work in larger urban centres. There are tensions, and it doesn’t help that the country doesn’t have a government like ours. From what I understand, each group has representatives, and these gather together to try to decide common policies. They argue a lot.’

  ‘Sounds like a typical day in Parliamen
t,’ Sue quipped. ‘Although we don't, as a rule, eat our opponents. So, Penny, what do you think? What can we do to convince creatures from Lloegyr to stay in their own country?’

  If she said ‘creatures’ one more time, I was going to leave the room. And I’d grab the bottle of Talisker from the bar. ‘Beings from Lloegyr,’ I said, emphasising the first word, ‘usually have good reason to leave. Unless those reasons are taken away, through greater tolerance of diversity, for example, then we’ll continue to see people crossing over.’

  ‘So make this run both ways,’ the businessman said. ‘If they think they can settle over here, I don’t see why we can’t make inroads over there.’

  ‘Have you tried going through a thin place?’ coloured hair man asked. ‘I’ve done it once. Seriously, worst thing that’s ever happened to me. And then you have to go back through the other way.’

  ‘Are there only thin places at ground level?’ Laurence asked. ‘What about in the air, or in the water?’

  ‘How would you find those?’ This from a middle-aged man in a cassock. ‘What would be your landmarks?’

  I found myself holding my breath. But none of them seemed to know, as Peter and I did, that search dragons and snail sharks could find thin places. My hand crept over my mouth. The idea of anyone else finding out sent a shudder down my back. I glanced at Peter, and he pressed a finger to his lips.

  ‘These are the sorts of issues which need further discussion.’ Sue swept her gaze around the table. ‘I’ve been Minister without Portfolio under two Prime Ministers now, and I’ve told both of them that we need to make some policy decisions about Lloegyr. The new PM seems ready to listen. All of you have, in your various ways, helped your country cope with those who cross over. I’d like to arrange another meeting to discuss a more strategic approach to our relationship with Lloegyr. May I count on your support?’

  Nods and words of agreement went through the room. I forced a smile as Sue looked at me. ‘Anything I can do to help, minister.’ A chill was spreading through my stomach. Sue had ordered UK army personnel to fire gas canisters at defenceless vampires. I would work with her, but I would never trust her again.

 

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