The Mystery of Emerald Flame (Verity Fitzroy and the Ministry Seven Book 2)

by Pip Ballantine

  "...or destroys it." Her father's spoke in a low tone, like when he was disappointed in something naughty Verity did. Uncle Octavius was an adult though. What could he have done?

  "You're thinking so small Hugo. Cora I would have thought you of all people would see the ancient world reborn."

  "Somethings even I believe should stay in the past," she replied. "Now, I think you have said your piece, and you should go before things get more… heated."

  Verity was forced to run towards the kitchen to get out of the way as the library door burst open and her Uncle strode away. As he left he shouted over his shoulder, "I'm not giving up on you two. When I get back from Africa, you'll see my point."

  The darkness and light swirled together. "So much arguing, so much disagreement," Boudica said, her blue eyes softening, "but it isn't over yet. Not by any measure."

  At Verity's side, Julia let out a squeak. "I dunnae want to see it."

  "But it matters, little one," Andrasta said, "it matters a great deal."

  The shadows twisted and turned, and now they showed something else entirely, a place Verity did not know. It was the inside of a castle by the massive amount and depth of stonework all around. When she caught a glimpse of a banner with the McTighe coat of arms on it, she understood; she was seeing Julia's memories.

  Two voices were raised, their emotion running as high as her recollection of her parents, but these were heavy with Scottish brogue. Another little girl was sneaking downstairs to listen to something that she wasn't supposed to. Peering over the bannister, little Julia observed what they didn't want her to see.

  The broad-shouldered man with the bright red hair, who Verity recognised as Lord Hamish McTighe, kilt and all, in full Scottish outrage. The woman facing him also possessed the same colour hair, though hers was curled and loose about her shoulders. The way her hands were jammed on her hips suggested she did so, in order not to strike him.

  "Mother, uncle," little Julia whispered, “dunna fight."

  They didn't hear her, and she didn't raise her voice to make them.

  "Una, you can't be serious," Hamish said, shaking his head. "You canna take such chances with aether and the girl like that."

  "I dunna say I would do any such thing with Julia nearby." Una spun around and stared at the flames in the massive hearth for a minute. "I just know I can learn so much more about it, if I keep going. Science sometimes require we go to the edge."

  "Aether is dangerous and unreliable," Hamish barked back. Quite something to hear from the notorious Mad McTighe. "If you go looking for answers you could end up killing yourself and your daughter along with you."

  Una let out a long, ragged sigh and thumped her fist against the stone surround of the fireplace. "I canna give up, Hamish. I canna.”

  Verity understood the passionate pursuit of the sciences, and not just because her parents suffered from it—so had she. Sometimes it was hard to pull herself away from tinkering with something. When the brain wouldn't let go of an idea, and the body pushed for a little more time. That was how hours and days could be lost. However, she was not a mother, and she could read in Una McTighe's face the struggle between both motherhood and discovery.

  Her brother let out a long side and shook his head. Verity would never have imagined seeing such restraint from an inventor known for his 'madness' and brilliance. Yet here he was urging caution on his sister.

  "If you must continue your pursuit," he finally conceded, "then at least leave Julia here in my care. She will want for nothing and be safer."

  How McTighe castle could be the least dangerous option, remained a mystery. What was Una McTighe pursuing that was so terrible?

  Finally, the woman paced back and forward a moment, chewing on her lip, but finally she nodded. "That would be the most sensible thing brother, but I will write to her—every week I promise."

  "She didn't," Julia's voice reached her. "Only on my birthday, but she is now the foremost expert on ancient aether technology."

  The light and shadow released the two young women, as the Queen also let go of them. They slumped to their knees, sapped of all energy.

  When she was able to recover herself, Verity looked up at them, a simmering rage building inside her. Neither she nor Julia asked for that sort of intrusion.

  "I came here for help," she repeated. "After all the Seven have done for you, and this is how you repay me?"

  A ripple of angry muttering ran around the room at her disrespect, but Verity didn't care.

  "We repay you with knowledge," Boudica said, leaning back in their chair, and pushing her iron-grey braid off her shoulder. "Not everyone asks for our gifts, but they must be used. We are trying to save the future, and there is only one voyage that can set you on the right path."

  It wasn't enough of an answer for Verity. Brushing off her trousers, she got to her feet. "What I really came here for was to ask you to save my friends. I would like one of your citizens to place the red kerchief at the window of St Giles, as a signal to the Seven. They are in danger if they stay in Onslow Square."

  Andrasta raised her hand, and one of the younger bearded ladies got up and left.

  "It will be done," Boudica said. "But remember we swore and oath to watch your back, Verity Fitzroy. If we did not show you these things, then a terrible fate would befall all of your children. The shadows of the past follow close on your heels."

  The Queen laid claim to being prescient, and Verity had long doubted that, thinking it was just another bit of sideshow flimflam, but now having experience a dip into the past, she wondered.

  "Show a little gratitude," Andrasta hissed. "You need to go on a journey to avoid that path, and we have given you signs to help you along it."

  Boudica's fingers tapped on the arm of her chair. "Children are always ungrateful, even the talented ones."

  "Most especially the talented ones," her sister offered, pressing her lips into a sour line.

  “We understand,” Julia said in a small voice, her face folded by concentration and just a hint of tears in her eyes.

  The Queen leaned in against herself, looking like a stern Janus with nothing but concentration for them.

  "Elias will send the signal you request," they whispered, this time together. In these kind of moments, Verity understood the reverence the Underground had for their queen. Her four sets of eyes glittered in the half-light. After her brush with the Silver Pharaoh, the young woman had learned there were indeed more things in heaven and earth.

  Slowly she began to back away from the dais, head tilted down, but eyes up. Julia and Potts stayed behind her until they were out in the corridor.

  "Well, that was terrifying," the little brass man said, jetting some steam out of his rear port, "but you two were holding hands with them for quite some time, what was that about?"

  Their little display was just for them then, and not be projected to all and sundry; Verity could be glad at least of that.

  She cleared her throat. "Nothing, just being reverent is all, you know and keeping our heads on our shoulders."

  Julia glanced up and they shared a dark look.

  "So, what now? Are we to become permanent residents?" Potts asked, his head spinning around to check up and down the corridor.

  Instead of answering him, which would have only risked everything tumbling out, Verity turned and led them in the other direction from which they came. "We go to St Giles and wait for the rest of the Seven to turn up. They will tell us if the Illuminati came calling back at the house, or if they only made it as far as the park."

  Julia hustling to keep up, tapped her on the shoulder. "You live there in Kensington?" She said it in such a disbelieving tone, that Verity was reminded once again how sheltered and privileged her friend's life was. Certainly, she lost her mother, never knew her father, but she'd been brought up in wealth. From her point of view, ragamuffin Verity living in the neat rows of upper crust Kensington was quite the surprise.

  "No," she snapped, "we hide
in Kensington, there is a difference."

  Realising she'd made a mistake, Julia was silent after that. Following the tunnel east as far as it went, Verity began counting the twists and turns. She didn't know all of the side tunnels and exits as the Underground citizens did, but she could identify one. Their rendezvous point.

  Have a plan or three in your back pocket, Henry always said, and this one triggered by the signal would see them right for this situation.

  The High Street of Kensington was the main thoroughfare all the Seven used, and they would notice the signal soon enough. Scatter and regroup, it communicated. The Seven in the house on Onslow Square would hightail it out the back, rather than using any of the usual methods, and then they would regroup in St Giles in the Field.

  It was a church picked for both its good location, kindly rector, and the fact it had a lot of visitors. Small children would not be so remarked upon as they would in fancier churches. After taking three lefts and right and then another left, Verity was confident she led them in the right direction.

  When Julia spoke, it almost made her jump. “I know the voyage the Queen talked about. I know where we must go.”

  That brought Verity to a stop. She spun around and fixed her with a sharp look. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Emerald Flame. The Greek Fire. The War Fire. It is what my mother is searching for… still is actually.”

  “And where would that be?” Potts burst in. The flame in his chest obviously worried him even more than he was letting on.

  “Cappadocia, in Central Anatolia.” Julia folded her fingers together and stared down at them. “That was at least where the last birthday card I got from her came from. She said she was very close to finding the answer to the mystery she's been chasing the years.”

  Verity considered before saying anything else. Too many coincidences pointed towards the Emerald Flame; a professor of aether, the Illuminati, and her uncle Octavius.

  Now Julia’s mother was coming close to revealing a secret about the flame. If the power that lived inside Potts’ chest could be larger than it would make a weapon capable of changing the world. The image of the massive machine Psusennes built flashed in her memory. Her own parents saw the danger of what Octavius Barnes was doing and tried to dissuade him.

  It would be easy to alert Thorne and the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences, but then Julia’s mother would get into trouble, and Octavius who proved himself a subtle player before might slip through their fingers.

  The thought remained, if she went, then he would know. She might even get to see him face to face, and be able to ask him the real question burning in her mind; had he killed her parents? If he hadn’t maybe he knew who did?

  "Where's that then?" Christopher asked with a twist of his lips.

  "It's in the Ottoman Empire," Emma said pertly. "Long way from here."

  She licked her lips, before offering, “It would be good to get out the city with the Illuminati crawling all over it.”

  “Wait a minute,” Potts injected, waving his brass arms and beaming green light from his eyes. “You’re saying we should all go haring off to Italy just because this girl’s mother knows something of aether and maybe Greek Fire?”

  “With Miss Delancy dead,” Julia replied coolly, “my mother is the foremost expert thank you very much, and Greek Fire is her life’s work. She also asked if I would like to visit her dig with my class sometime.”

  “I think that time would be now,” Verity said, crossing her arms and staring down at Potts. “And you’re coming along. Can’t leave you here for the Illuminati, real or imagined to get hold of.”

  "I don't like travel," the automaton grumbled, but both women completely ignored him.

  Chapter Ten

  St Giles' Plan

  “You want to what?” Henry said, leaning back against Auden’s grave and staring at her as if he couldn’t quite believe what she’d just said.

  “We need to get to Anatolia,” Verity repeated not meeting his eyes. She didn't want to get into a fight at this juncture if she could help it.

  “I don’t know nothing about where that is, and I kinda don’t think I want to,” Christopher replied with a twist of his lips.

  Verity turned to him. "That's good because I don't want all of you to come."

  "What?!" Emma, who sat with her arms draped around Potts, leapt to her feet.

  Verity held her hands out in front of her, mostly to defend from the angry looks the other children were giving her. Julia sat, arms crossed over her chest and huddled in the far corner by a tombstone. Apart from Henry and Emma, these other children were complete strangers to her, and Verity was aware how they would look to her cultivated eyes; like most of them would stab her as soon as look at her. To be fair, all of the Seven did indeed have some kind of weapon on them.

  "I've had time to think about it while you got here," Verity said, while noting from the corner of her eye that Jonathan and Jeremy already whispered to each other. "We have a problem in both places. The Emerald Flame is being used by a monster experimenting on children, and we know nothing about how to stop him. While the Illuminati, one of the most deadly and secretive organisations in the world, may well know the location of our home."

  Colin raised his hand like he was in school, though he'd never darkened the doors of one. "You're sure that was who it was?"

  Now, once again she was going to have to involve them in her past. From her pocket she removed the note from her uncle and handed to Colin. He read it, and then passed it on around the circle. Even Julia got a lookie-loo. Some of the Seven read better than others, Christopher for example being far less willing to sit still and be taught—but all of them got the gist of it.

  "Your uncle again?" Henry asked, giving her an angry glare under his furrowed brow. "For someone who is supposed to be an orphan you do have a lot of trouble with family, don't you?"

  The rest of the Seven had mostly dead or disappeared relatives. Verity swallowed hard, trying not to feel the prick of tears in the corner of her eyes. She knew it wasn't for Cora and Hugo, but rather for bringing this trouble to the Seven's doorstep.

  Liam put his hand on top of hers and gave it a squeeze. "We've all got ghosts in our past. People that would happily slit our throats. That's why we look after each other."

  "Don't even think about leaving us," Emma said, her face screwed up in near anger. "We stick together, that's what you said, and that means through everything—not just the good bits."

  Jonathan whispered to Jeremy who whispered to Colin. "That's the code, right, Truth?"

  Verity meant truth, and sometimes she wished she hadn't told them that. This was not one of those times when she could give them everything, much as she might like to.

  Blinking and nodding, she went on. "I thought about it as we came back from the Underground. Thought about it a lot actually. Here's my suggestion, and then we can vote on it."

  She looked across at Henry, who wore a glower that could have cracked eggs. Still, start as you mean to go on. "I think Henry should stay here with Jonathan, Jeremy, Christopher and Colin and infiltrate the Illuminati, while Emma, Liam and I go to Anatolia to find out more about this green flame. We'll take Monkey Wrench with us since he has one inside him we can use as a comparison."

  Henry leapt to his feet in a moment, genuine shock washing away that glower. "You want me to stay here?"

  Odd how he wasn't worried about traveling to Anatolia, just that he wanted to go with her.

  "You're the oldest," she said, wondering that she had actually said that, since it was the one thing that grated on her when he brought it up himself.

  “Onslow Square is our home," Colin said while shoving his hands into his pockets, "we don't give it up if we has to."

  Verity pointed out him. "Precisely, I doubt the Ministry has another perfect little house for us just kicking around. We want to go back to living in a dripping basement, or something?"

  They all shook their heads.r />
  "You're right," Henry said, and never had words sounded sweeter, but then he had to go and ruin it, "but I should go with you."

  This was where things started to get difficult. By always dogging her footsteps, like he did in the Delancy Academy, he just said to Verity that he didn't think she was competent or capable. She wouldn't have that.

  "This isn't something I just dreamt up," she snapped. "You love to be in charge and entering the Illuminati and finding out what they know will be complication. The twins will pull their usual trick, of keeping one in reserve if things go pear-shaped. While Colin is the sweetest little cracksman among us, just in case you need to get in somewhere, which you will. I'll take Emma who is in fantastic at infiltration, and Liam for pickpocketing."

  Henry crossed his arms. "And you take Christopher as well," he said, as if they hadn't talked about it time after time. The older boy's love of the bottle was starting to interfere with things, and he wouldn't listen to Henry no matter how much he yelled.

  He gave her a little shake of his head while his gaze locked with her. "Just in case you need some muscle on your end. Agreed?"

  Verity sighed but knew an impasse when she saw one. "Alright then."

  Christopher scowled and stared around at the other. "So that's it? We're going to a vote, but we need another option to this crazy idea?"

  "We scatter," Henry replied, spitting out the words like they had a bad taste to them. "We abandon Onslow Square, and leg it out of London. We might stand a chance the Illuminati give up on us if we set up in Birmingham or York maybe..."

  Jeremy whispered to Jonathan, who leaned over and whispered to Colin. "Yeah, Birmingham is the arse end of nowhere."

  "Any other suggestions?" Emma asked.

  "You could tell Harrison Thorne all this," Julia offered in a quiet voice. "Let the Ministry sort everything."

  All eyes turned to her, and Verity winced. The Seven were happy to earn a living working with the Ministry, but they were their own entity. Every single child in the group was proud of their independence, fiercely loyal to one another, and looked down on adults in all their shapes and forms. The Seven took care of their own business, and that was reflected in every one of the children seated in the vault of St Giles. Every terrible story they'd gone through forged them into something more than children. They were a family.