The Twelve Dragons of Albion

by Mark Hayden

  ‘How d’you do,’ I said, returning the firm handshake. Richard James is black and older than me, both of which marked him out as different amongst the other Watch Captains. He had grey appearing at his temples and a patch of white skin on his jaw that looked like well healed scar tissue. He said hello, told me to call him Rick and sat down without further comment.

  Hannah spoke again. ‘While you’re standing up, you can be shabos-goy, Conrad.’

  That stumped me. Rick gave me a sympathetic grin and said, ‘Hannah pretends to keep kosher when it suits her. A shabos-goy is one of us who does the dirty work on Saturdays.’

  ‘Shut up, Rick, and let Vicky finish her report.’

  I started to make the tea, and had a proper look at Vicky, especially the short red skirt and tight black top that was just too tight. Aah – the message Vicky had received underground hadn’t just said that Hannah wanted to see us, she’d also learnt about Rick, and had raced off to raid Desirée’s locker, which was why everything was too small for her, except the heels, which were two sizes too big.

  Vicky spoke to Hannah but looked at Rick. ‘There’s nothing else to say. The Earth Master came up empty on where the egg might be now.’

  I started fixing the tea and said, conversationally, ‘Is he going to look for the other eggs?’

  ‘What other eggs?’ said Hannah.

  ‘I can’t believe that something with a Dragon’s life-cycle would only lay one egg. Perhaps Desirée hasn’t got that far in her translation yet.’

  ‘Ask her, will you, Vicky, though how we find them if there are any out there is anyone’s guess.’

  I had an idea about how to find the eggs, but now was not the time. Hannah accepted a weak cup of tea gratefully. I hung on for the strong stuff.

  She continued, ‘Rick is your local Watch Captain, Conrad, when you’re in Cheltenham. His personal patch covers all of Wessex, the Severn Valley and Cornwall. All the Watch Captains outside the south east report to him, and he’s the liaison officer with the Daughters of the Goddess at Glastonbury, because he has inside knowledge.’

  Rick gave a wry smile. ‘What our boss is trying to say is that I married a witch. I left London to be with her, and I’m still there because of the kids. We split up a while ago.’

  I wonder how that sits with Ian Drummond’s declaration that liaison with the Circles was his responsibility. Our Deputy was conspicuous by his absence this morning.

  Hannah gave me a shrewd look, as if she’d read the thought that had just passed through my head. ‘A lot of Rick’s work would normally be done by a Deputy Constable. As you know, I only have one, and Rick declined to apply for the other vacancy.’

  Rick tried to make light of what Hannah had said, but I could see this was a recurring argument. ‘I can’t take a job in Chester when my kids are in Glastonbury, can I?’

  ‘So you’ve said. And what did the Daughters of the Goddess say about Dragons?’

  Rick shook his head. ‘That they’re an abomination against nature, the work of men and utterly repugnant to the Goddess, unless they’re doing the Goddess’s work, in which case they are a symbol of triumphant femininity.’

  ‘Are they always so decisive?’ I asked.

  ‘Tell me about it,’ said Rick. ‘Bottom line: they’re clueless. None of the ones I’ve spoken to have seen so much as a wisp of smoke.’ He turned in his chair to face me fully. ‘Bear in mind, Conrad, that I only get to speak to the ones who will talk to the Watch. That’s very much a minority.’

  ‘So I discovered at Lunar Hall,’ I said, sitting down with my tea. Vicky did not look happy at facing Rick’s back.

  ‘Should we go national with this?’ said Hannah, looking at each of us in turn.

  ‘I think we need all the help we can get,’ said Rick.

  ‘I agree,’ said Vicky.

  ‘We’ve got nothing at the moment,’ said Hannah, ‘and the clock on that incubator is ticking. What do you think, Conrad?’

  I stirred my tea. Hannah had shown more trust in Rick than anyone else on her team, so I was loath to go against him, but… ‘Speaking as the only one with inside knowledge of a criminal conspiracy, I think you’re wrong.’

  ‘What?’ said Rick. ‘Have you done undercover work?’

  ‘You could say that.’

  Hannah looked appalled and amused in equal measure; Vicky looked confused.

  Having got their attention, I said, ‘We haven’t given enough thought to what they want the egg for, and it has to be a group of them.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Hannah.

  ‘I can see three possibilities: criminal, magickal or ideological.’

  ‘What do you mean by criminal?’ said Rick, putting down his tea.

  ‘Who’s the richest single Mage you know? Human not Dwarf.’

  Glances were exchanged. Vicky looked keen to get back in the conversation, and said, ‘Lady Kirsten. I met her in Scotland.’

  Rick turned round. ‘Isn’t she the one with the castle? Have you been?’

  Vicky’s eyes lit up. ‘Never mind the castle, you should see her place in Edinburgh: it’s like a palace. She threw the best party I’ve ever been to.’

  ‘You should see where Milton lives,’ said Rick. ‘Owns half a valley in Cornwall.’

  ‘Oy, you lot,’ said Hannah. ‘Conrad, get on with it, already.’

  ‘How much would the richest Mage you know pay for a Dragon’s egg? More than enough to compensate for the risks, I’ll bet.’

  ‘It’s a thought,’ said Rick.

  ‘And a valid one,’ said Hannah, ‘but where does that get us, and what did you mean by magickal or ideological?’

  ‘Dragon’s eggs are unique,’ I said. ‘I’ve seen enough Mages to know that there will be a Mage somewhere who would break any laws to get their hands on one. Even so, if that egg was taken for a collector or for experiment, they’ll have covered their tracks, and if we never find them, I don’t see a great threat to the King’s Peace.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ said Vicky.

  Hannah was one step ahead of her. ‘Because they know what they’re doing.’

  ‘That’s right,’ I agreed. ‘No one wants an apocalypse unless you’re a fanatic. Which magickal groups would unleash mass destruction to further their cause?’

  This time they really were stumped. Finally, Rick spoke. ‘There’s no such thing.’ Hannah nodded in agreement.

  The office wasn’t very big, which made the elephant in the room even more uncomfortable. ‘Hannah, does Islamic State subscribe to the Annex of Westphalia? What’s the Islamic view of magick in general?’

  You’d have thought I’d dropped my pants, such was the response. All of a sudden, everyone was staring at Hannah.

  She drew a breath. ‘The Islamic view of magick isn’t dissimilar to the Christian one as it was a few centuries ago. Progressive Islam embraces it; mainstream Islam suppresses it as a weakness afflicting women; extremists consider it the work of Satan. If this was India, or some African countries, I’d say you were spot on, Conrad, but not in Britain. Not yet. Not again.’

  ‘Fair enough. I still think that, whatever the motive for the misappropriation of the egg, widespread publicity will only give away our hand. At the moment, almost no one knows we’ve even found the egg chamber.’

  I’d said my piece, and if the Boss still thought that an appeal was the best option, I’d keep quiet and follow orders.

  ‘Let’s leave it for now,’ she said. ‘Ruth may yet get something on that phone, and there might be some mileage in sniffing round some of the known collectors. I’ll get Ian to draw up a list. Thanks, everyone. Rick? Can I have a word?’

  Vicky and I stood up. She failed to hide her displeasure at being sent out.

  Hannah had one last thing to say. ‘You’ve disappointed me, Conrad. I had a joke ready about you being pleased to see me.’

  ‘Ma’am, I’m always pleased to see you, even when I haven’t got a gun in my pocket.’

  She blush
ed and pointed to the door. ‘Go. I now have to explain that to Rick.’

  ‘Explain what?’ said Vicky outside the office. When I’d told her about Mae West, she grinned. ‘Will you two just get a room? Mina might have to worry if you carry on flirting like that.’

  ‘You can talk.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’ve got a difficult decision to make, Vic. When I’ve gone, are you going to give Desi her outfit back, or are you going to hang around waiting for Rick? You didn’t mention him when you told me you’d been to Glastonbury.’

  She waited until we were out of Wyvern Chambers and into the Junction. She took my arm and kicked my bad leg so hard that I cried out in pain.

  Still clinging to my arm, she said, ‘I wanted you to suffer in Silence.’

  10 — All Work and no Play

  The old pubs in the City of London used to close in the evenings and at weekends, or so I’m told, because their customers all caught the train to the suburbs at five thirty. The arrival of 24/7 global capitalism changed all that, which was why the Churchill Arms was doing good business on a Saturday afternoon. My lunch companion was less enthusiastic.

  Alain du Pont is a French postgrad, currently completing a low-wage placement at Praed’s Bank. He is also my occasional private detective and consultant, as well as being my role model for the Gallic Shrug.

  ‘In France, this would be illegal,’ he said, taking a healthy knock of the bottle of wine I’d bought. ‘Not only do I ’ave to work over the Working Time Directive, I ’ave to do it on a Saturday and get no extra money. Pfft.’

  ‘Any sign of a permanent job?’

  ‘Yes. If I want one, but there’s something else I’d like first.’

  Alain covets my sister – or at least a placement at her firm. ‘Don’t hold your breath. Rachael and I have some family stuff to work through before I ask any favours. I promised I’d do my best, and I will. A Clarke’s word is binding, and all that.’

  He grunted. ‘’Ow is your application coming along? ’Ave you got your new job?’

  I raised my glass. ‘I have, thanks to your help. I took the oath yesterday, and I was hard at work this morning. I really am grateful for what you’ve done for me, Alain.’

  ‘Thank you. ’Ave you got any more jobs? I could use the money.’

  ‘Later. After lunch. They’ve given me a partner, you know. Vicky.’

  ‘The one ’oo looks like a ’orse, or ’er sister ’oo looks like a ’Ollywood star?’

  Alain and Vicky have met, and Alain’s seen photos of Vicky out clubbing, wearing a Glamour. He doesn’t believe they’re the same person, which is sort of the point.

  ‘She’s good at disguises,’ I said. ‘That’s all. The real Vicky Robson is a lovely girl. I think you could do a lot worse.’

  He gave me one of his most eloquent shrugs. Alain knew me before I discovered magick, and I’d like to wait as long as I can before he finds out. This means he looks at Vicky as a someone in administration, and Vicky only has eyes for Mages when it comes to serious relationships. Never mind: they’re young, and I’ll persevere.

  ‘’Ow is your girlfriend?’ he asked. He does know about Mina.

  ‘Fine, as far as I can tell. I’m seeing her on Wednesday.’

  The food arrived, and Alain embarked on a long story about his efforts to get the girl at work who he really fancies to go to the Valentine’s dinner they have at his house-share in West London. I wished him luck (and mentally wished the poor girl luck, too. I’ve seen their kitchen).

  We went for a smoke, and I passed him an envelope with some cash and two names. I’d only decided to do this on the walk down from Salomon’s House, and I’d had to stop at the ATM to get some money, and a tourist tat shop to buy a card with an envelope. ‘Find out all you can about these two names. They might be completely invisible. Nothing at all back to me electronically, OK? And cover your tracks.’

  He nodded, glanced in the envelope and frowned. ‘What is this? Lady Kirsten — Scotland and Milton — Cornwall? ’Ow can I work with this?’

  I clapped him on the back. ‘You’re good, Alain. Give it your best shot.’

  If you’re wondering why I would spend my own money on this project, when I could find out a lot more from Vicky or Hannah, it’s because I wanted to see what sort of footprint in the mundane world would be left by two of the richest Mages in Britain (or Albion, as everyone seemed keen to call it).

  I spent the next eight nights at Elvenham House, and I began to wonder what was going on in Merlyn’s Tower that Hannah wanted to keep me at arm’s length – rusticated, as they say in the Invisible College. Apparently.

  The first thing I did was to place my King’s Bounty – the gold coin from the Water Room – under the floorboards on the little landing of the tower, just behind where the carving of the dragon is fixed into the wall. I must admit I looked askance at the dragon when I got back (after saying hello, of course). ‘What sort of dragon are you?’ I’d said, but got no reply. It’s a good job I live in the country. Not only can no one hear you talking to a stone dragon, if they could they’d assume you were a harmless eccentric.

  After that, there was a certain amount of sitting in front of a log fire while the rain beat on the windows, and a couple of trips to the Inkwell, but I was far from idle. I read the staff handbook. I read the red files (twice), and I dipped into a good number of the green binders. The blue ones defeated me. If/when I am called back to duty, at least I’ll have a good idea of what I can and can’t do as a Captain of the King’s Watch.

  The essence of the King’s Peace is this, and I quote from that riveting legal landmark The Peculier Constable vs the St Peter’s Merchants:

  All the King’s subjects, whether or not they have been blessed with the gift of magick, have the right to enjoy their lives in peace without the interruption of unnatural forces.

  What this boils down to is that my use of enhanced spin in a cricket match would be against the magickal law, as would the unleashing of a Dragon. Everything is built on the St Peter’s Principle (as it’s known), and all the Orders of the Occult Council, all the Statutes of the Invisible College and all the case law from the Cloister Court are just elaborations of that judgement.

  After reading that, I could see why Vicky’s use of a Glamour at Club Justine was embarrassing rather than illegal. She wasn’t trying to profit from her deception, and no one got hurt. It was very, very different for Desirée because her entire career was based on membership of the Invisible College, and she could easily have been expelled for what she’d done.

  The red files also covered my rights as an officer of the law, which are quite alarming in their scope. I’ll just say that a Captain of the Watch is part bounty hunter, part judge, and only partly a policeman (or woman). We are a long way from the Police and Criminal Evidence Act.

  When I’d finished my homework, the Occult Council was also less of a mystery, though not by much. In its current form, the Council functions like a magickal parliament with an in-built plurality for the Crown in the shape of royal appointments. Hannah is a member ex-officio, as are the Warden and Dean of Salomon’s House. Some of the seats are even elected by voters in the Circles, and Creatures of Light have the right of audience. Then there were several curious references to the Vicar of London Stone, who may or may not be Hannah’s boss. What I didn’t find out was any detail – no reports of actual missions or what the Watch Captains did on them.

  The green folders had the statutes, and the blue folders had case law from the Cloister Court, written by lawyers and full of things like, As Dickon said in Richmond vs Glastonbury, the principle of non tangere does not apply in cases of consent…

  When it wasn’t raining too hard, I did a lot of walking, I went for a couple of gallops near Worcester, and I made a trip to a secret location in Staffordshire.

  In the grounds of an Army base is a tract of woodland surrounded by MOD Keep Out notices because they use it for live firing e
xercises. It also includes the crossing point of two Ley lines – a junction in the Network of Albion, as it said in the Earth Master’s notes. My RAF ID badge got me access one miserable morning when all sensible squaddies were asleep.

  Feeling a complete div (as Vicky would say), I stood next to a stone marker and held my dowsing rod lightly between my fingers. The idea was to circle the stone until I got a response from the twig, then follow the track.

  I spiralled slowly away from the marker and felt absolutely nothing. Both times. I’d come too far to give up that easily, so I went right out to the treeline and worked in – and without realising what I’d done, I moved anti-clockwise. Half way towards the stone, I felt it. There. Just a twinge. Just enough to know that Lux was flowing under my feet, and that it was flowing north north west.

  It took half an hour, and a thorough soaking, before I got the lie of the Leys. The powerlines ran much further under my feet than they were in the Old Network under London, and I could only find one of them with any certainty.

  I did discover that when following a Ley line, I could feel the difference between True North and Magnetic North. How this worked, whether it’s any use, and why there is a Ley line between Stratford-on-Avon and Chester are all mysteries that remained unsolved, even after a full English breakfast.

  My new colleagues and old allies did not desert me completely. I took delivery of a pre-paid debit card for Moley; I got a text from Alain inviting me for a drink (= I’ve found something); Vicky kept me posted on what she was up to – a trip home to Newcastle and a visit to the Shield Wall (?) with the regional Watch Captain.

  The highlight of the week was of course on Wednesday. It’s a long way to HMP Cairndale for an hour’s visit, but worth every mile of the drive. Not that you feel like that in the holding room, knowing that you’re going to be searched intimately, and surrounded by children who shouldn’t be exposed to despair on that scale.

  I feel embarrassed when I look at the other visitors, because my life is nothing like theirs, and they know it instinctively. A lot of them smoke, but none of them make small talk with me while we’re waiting outside.