*****
“Mister Kingston, Mister Clarence. How can I help, gentlemen?”
Standing on the broad stone steps of the Defence Training Offices, previously residence of Selena Stephania, I had thought my biggest challenge would be facing reminders of my demon. As it had been, prior to my becoming master of it. And yes, the still faintly visible stain in the parking bay that had once been the lifeblood of my old car had indeed stirred up memories. Those of a domed ceiling splitting, marble floors shattering, white curtains being drawn into white ribbons as windows exploded.
‘What are you?’ Selena had said, her expression reminiscent of an explorer stumbling upon some dangerous new species.
But those memories turned out not to be my biggest challenge. It was the return of the stomach flutter that made the visit difficult. A flutter that bizarrely hovered between being terrified Selena might lurk inside, and eager to go storming in and start throwing open hiding places. What I would do if I did find her, the flutter declined to make comment on.
“Good evening, Miss Buckland,” Benny replied, “we’re sorry to be calling on you so late, but we rather hoped you might let us in for a few words.”
She looked us over, eyes glittering in the entrance-hall lights. How she managed to be dressed to professional standards after 8PM and in the presence of unexpected visitors was anyone’s guess.
“I would prefer you had made an appointment,” she replied coolly, “but since you are here it wouldn’t be proper to turn you away. Why don’t you come into the lounge?”
“Thank you.”
She stepped aside and we passed through into the lobby, the gargantuan oak doors towering on either side like silent sentinels.
“Would you like something to drink perhaps?” she asked, gesturing us into the mansion, “Water? Orange juice? Tea?” Her eyes flicked to me. “Coffee?”
“Yes,” I replied “Coffee would be great. Thank you.”
“Right this way.”
She led the way, each click of her high heels echoing for eternity in the vast empty space. After daylight the establishment had all the appeal of an abandoned tomb.
“So you’re looking after this place now?” Benny asked.
“Yes,” she responded, “but then I always have.”
She guided us into an enormous room that seemed to have been stolen from the pages of Victorian literature, featuring an assortment of decorative plates, shelves of leather-bound books, and a claustrophobic silence that settled in like dead weight.
“Still, seems you basically own the place now that Selena is gone,” Benny continued, “and it’s hard to deny the place is magnificent.”
“It is. And yes, I reside here and handle the affairs of Miss Stephania in her absence. Why don’t you take a seat?”
She gestured to a low polished wooden table upon which sat a steaming pot of coffee and three delicate white cups. Somehow it was not surprising this had been prepared for our unannounced visit.
“You handle her affairs?” Benny asked, stepping over to the table and sliding into a seat. I took the one beside him.
“Yes. I handle her affairs and have taken over the training of a number of her students.”
“Really? You’re qualified then?”
“So it would seem, Mister Kingston.” She took the couch opposite us. “At the time of Miss Stephania’s arrest I had been under her tutelage for some years and was ready to open a training institute of my own. It seemed only logical to adopt her students, given the circumstances.”
“So you studied under her for years? In her personal residence? That must have been... interesting.”
“How so?” She poured a coffee and handed it to me.
“Well it’s Selena, right? I can only imagine what that woman gets up to in her personal time. The words ‘weird’ and ‘eccentric’ spring to mind.”
He laughed; a sound that seemed so genuine you would swear the three of us were life long friends. The kind of friends that shared all sorts of delightful conversation in such quaint environments. Simultaneously, I felt the tingle of an Ambience Tweak emanating from his body.
“How crazy are employers?” The spell said. “How crazy are the people we have to answer to in our daily lives, who we all secretly dislike? I have an employer, you have one. We must be equals and friends. What else could we be?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Mister Kingston,” Jenny replied.
Silence settled in. From somewhere nearby came the steady tick, tick, tick of a grandfather clock.
“How did you do this, Miss Buckland?” I asked, jumping in and bolstering the Spell with my own Spirit.
“I beg your pardon, Mister Clarence?”
“The coffee. It seemed to have been prepared in advance for our arrival. That’s remarkably accurate Logical Prediction.”
“Logical Prediction is one of my specialities,” she said curtly, pouring a second cup and handing it to Benny.
“You did it before,” I continued, “You were offering me coffee from the very first time we met. Long before it had been chosen as my Primary Crutch. I still think about that.”
“Indeed. As I said, it is a speciality.”
She poured the third cup and sat back, eyes darting between us through rising wisps of steam.
“How?” I pushed, curiosity temporarily outweighing other concerns.
“Is that why you’ve intruded at this time of night? To enquire about my qualifications? I believe a telephone call would have sufficed.”
The Ambience Tweak spell continued to gather.
“Look Jenny, we’re here because we’re looking for Selena,” Benny said, tone shifting smoothly into graciousness, “She’s loose on the streets, unstable, and needs to be found. We’ve followed all our leads and come up empty. We really need your help on this. If you have any useful information, even the smallest thing, anything at all, that would be greatly appreciated. Please.”
“I have not heard from Miss Stephania since her arrest.” The response was automatic “As I’ve told the Department of Magic on numerous occasions.”
Benny sat back. His tone shifted to insistent appeal. “I’m not sure how to tell you this, Miss Buckland, but your ex-boss attacked an Enforcer a few days ago. She nearly murdered him. In fact, it’s a miracle he survived. We’re not trying to bring her in for her own sake. She is a serious danger to the public. Lives are at risk here.”
“As I said, Mister Kingston.”
There was another silence.
Tick, tick, tick.
Jenny sipped her coffee. The Ambience Tweak continued to build and build, engulfing the room like a sluggish fog.
“What are your other specialities?” Benny asked, tone now swinging back to casual.
“If you would like a consultation perhaps call back during business hours, Mister Kingston. And judging by the deteriorating situation with your demon, or should I say demon’s, I suggest you do so sooner, rather then later.”
Benny’s face drained. For a moment his cheeks turned so completely white they took on the appearance of a porcelain mask. Jenny, despite herself, let the faintest flicker of a smile cross her lips.
“I mean, professional training is a competitive industry,” Benny stumbled on, attempting to rebuild his shattered exterior, “Lots of big players with important looking degrees on their walls. Lots of money flying around. So, I imagine Selena placed a fair amount of trust in you handing over what must be an incredibly lucrative business. You were grateful, I bet.”
“Your point, Mister Kingston?”
“I’m just wondering where she’s been getting support for the last six months. Of the financial persuasion. Guessing she got funds from somewhere. Look at this place, am I right? The upkeep and maintenance alone must be a small fortune.”
Jenny placed down her cup. Her gaze crystallised.
“Miss Stephania and I were close business associates,” she said firmly, “I was grateful to work with her and spen
t a great deal of time in her residence. That is true. What she did or did not participate in during her personal time, ‘weird’ and ‘eccentric’ as you call it, is none of your concern.” Her eyes darted in my direction. My cheeks flushed, recalling the item seen in the mind of Gloria. “The respect I developed for Miss Stephania as a professional was immense, though I would hardly have called us friends. So I repeat; I have not heard from her. And if the pair of you do not desist your Ambience Tweak spell I will be forced to demonstrate I am more then capable of a Counter Spell. One that will have you both believing you are teenage girls experiencing your first menstrual cycle.”
I exchanged a dismayed glance with Benny. He nodded and we eased the Spell.
Benny cleared his throat. “Miss Buckland. Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot…”
“If there is nothing else, gentleman, I will ask you to be on your way. I have clients in the morning.”
“Yes of course, Miss Buckland.”
We stood and were escorted to the door, stepping back into the crisp night air.
“And Mister Clarence.”
“Yes?”
“Your teeth are yellowing, your breath smells of coffee, and there is a small brown spot on your lapel, also coffee I’m assuming. It was not difficult to predict your Primary Crutch.”
She closed the door in our faces.
“Feisty,” Benny muttered.
“Indeed.”
We headed back to the car.
“Teenage girls experiencing their first menstrual cycle?”
“I have to admit that’s one of the more alarming threats I’ve ever heard.”
“Agreed. By the way, what was that back there?”
“What?”
“That look of recognition she gave you. Right about the time the words ‘weird’ and ‘eccentric’ were mentioned.”
“Nothing. Not important.”
But the flutter in my stomach had survived the entire visit. It was looking back over my shoulder, still hoping Selena might yet be somewhere in the mansion, hiding just out of sight in some dark corner or forgotten room.
Balance - Book 2 Page 22