Dark Embers

by R. L. Giddings

  They have served with distinction alongside the British Army in numerous conflicts since the Second World War. What the Advocates lack in sophistication they make up for with a combination of loyalty and dedication. But there’s a price to pay for this. Denied a private life, they live together in large refectories. In the old days these refectories were renowned for their spartan lodgings and although that has changed somewhat they’re hardly luxurious. They revel in their reputation for dealing with such privations. They say that this fortitude brings them a clarity of thought which many practitioners have long since lost.

  They see the rest of us as privileged idiots and don’t go out of their way to hide their disdain. Advocates take up the bulk of tasks linked to the management of small scale magical activity and can make for a useful allies but it’s always best to remember that one of their favourite pastimes is hunting down rogue practitioners.

  The habits they wear are designed to evoke a sense of simplicity and poverty but that is simply an illusion. Up close, their garments are woven from expensive cloth, the logos of the rising sun on their chests embroidered with gold thread.

  I was so distracted by their presence that I hardly noticed the towering columns and ornamental stonework of the building itself.

  “Something wrong?” Millie asked.

  “I’m not sure. There seems to be a lot of Advocates around.”

  “Edwin says that they’re gearing up for a fight. This is where they’re mounting their intelligence gathering operation. The bulk of the troops are being gathered together at Salisbury Plain. There’s thousands of them.”

  The speed with which this operation had sprung into being surprised me. It was as if they’d been anticipating the attack for months.

  Once inside the front door, we found ourselves in a grand, echoing entrance hall with intricate friezes dominating the walls. Scenes of magicians from ages past enacting noble deeds and demonstrating great skills. A grand, pink marble staircase stood opposite and we headed for it now. Macmillan’s office was on the first floor. Edwin had drawn us a map but I didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves by consulting it openly so I kept my head down and tried to look as though I knew what I was doing.

  As we reached the top of the stairs, we were passed by two men wearing the black velvet jackets and stiff white collar of Prestige fellows and I couldn’t help but stare. They carried their research work in traditional bamboo cases which protect them from being interfered with.

  I looked around once we got out onto the landing, the ceiling was painted in a glorious pattern of sunflowers which seemed to radiate actual light although none of that helped me work out which direction to take next. The corridors branched off in all directions.

  “Which way?” I said under my breath.

  “I don’t know. Don’t you have the map?”

  “I do but I don’t want everyone to see.”

  Millie beckoned me forward. “Give it here?”

  I took it out of my bag and passed it to her. She took it from me and unfolded it.

  “This way.”

  I wasn’t sure that she knew where she was going and my fears appeared to be justified when, at one point, we turned down a long, dark corridor which led to the laundry room but after a swift about-face, we seemed to be getting somewhere.

  “Down there,” Millie indicated, holding up the map.

  A group of clerical workers had congregated outside a large office. As we drew nearer, I saw an Advocate sitting on a chair, his hood pulled back off his face. He was running his fingers through thick curly hair. Millie looked at me, her eyes widening in alarm.

  The man appeared to have been crying.

  When we got to the end of the corridor we had nowhere else to go and stood around in an uneasy silence. They didn’t seem at all surprised by our arrival. They just huddled together in little groups, their urgent whispers bouncing off the walls and echoing down the hallway.

  “Terrible thing. Just terrible.”

  “Today of all days.”

  “Who found him?”

  “Anne-Marie. She’s devastated.”

  “I saw her downstairs. Not good. Not good at all.”

  “Is someone coming over?”

  “That’s what Duncan was saying.”

  All the time they were talking, Millie and I were working our way towards the door. She rested her head on my shoulder while I rubbed her back. No one inquired as to why we were there. The activity prompted by the election must have seen all kinds of people washing up at Macmillan’s door. As we pressed our way through to the door, people backed away in order to give us more room.

  Millie widened her eyes to get my attention then inclined her head.

  The door to the office was standing open. I turned to get a better look. The office beyond was of generous proportions with a solid dark wood desk. There was something on the floor. Dark fluid was pooling toward the centre of the room.

  Blood.

  I turned a little too quickly and caught the eye of one of the office workers. Instant suspicion registered on his face and he stepped across to block my view of the room. But, as he did so, I glimpsed something else. A bone white hand, sticking out from behind the desk.

  “Let’s go,” I said, as if speaking to myself.

  Millie didn’t hesitate, she just started moving down the corridor.

  “Wait a minute!” someone said.

  But I didn’t respond, didn’t even look at them. Just kept walking, expecting a hand on my arm at any moment.

  We were half way down the corridor when Valeria arrived, backed by six serious looking Advocates. If I thought war was coming earlier, I had been wrong. The war was already here. They were walking quickly, totally focussed on the door of Macmillan’s office. That’s probably why they didn’t notice us straightaway. And, perhaps, if we’d kept moving, brazened it out, we might have got away with it.

  Millie froze and Valeria’s gaze shifted. A moment of recognition and then…

  “Stop them!”

  Just as Valeria was trying to get a clear shot, I hit her with a new spell. One I hadn’t used before. Supposed to work well in confined spaces. Casting is an emotional process but I must have conjured this one with a particular vehemence because the force of it was enough to propel her back into the other Advocates. The ensuing disarray gave me a few seconds to think.

  “In there!”

  There was a room on our right and I bundled Millie into it. Once we were inside, she placed her hand over the key-hole and concentrated. There was a solid ‘clunk’ as the locking mechanism capitulated.

  “That should hold them for a while.”

  But the Advocates were already at the door trying to get in.

  Luckily, we hadn’t chosen to hide in a store cupboard. We were in some sort of laboratory with a large picture window. I went across and found that it could be opened at the bottom. The problem was that it was restricted from opening too wide by a metal hinge. Even when opened as far as it would go, the gap was too small for either one of us to squeeze through.

  While I was considering this conundrum, Millie came along and ran her hand over the hinge. When she took her hand away, the mechanism was covered with a film of frost. She went back to the lab and returned with a metal stand. She struck the hinge once, not hard but it was enough. The long central section snapped off and fell into the courtyard below.

  The noise from behind us was becoming more and more distracting. They were doing something to the door. Neither of us cared to look back. We were more concerned with the long drop to the ground below.

  “What do you think?” Millie said.

  “I think it’s a long way down.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  Then she was climbing out, lowering herself down onto a length of thin pipe which didn’t look strong enough to hold her weight. She reached up and grabbed my hand for support. The pipe connected to a downpipe over to our left. If she could make her way across to that sh
e might be able to climb down it. But the distance looked too great. I couldn’t see the smaller pipe bearing up.

  She was a good ten metres off the ground and I was worried about her slipping. Apart from my hand, which was already over-stretched, there was nothing to hold onto. I wasn’t expecting her to let go of me. I expected her to admit defeat and clamber back in; but she didn’t. She hugged the side of the wall, cautiously edging her feet along the pipe. After a while she stopped to get her breath. The downpipe was only an arms distance away when the pipe started to give way. She had to scrabble just to stay upright.

  The noise from behind me continued to build.

  “Come back in,” I shouted to her. “We’ll have to think of something else.”

  But Millie wasn’t listening. There was some kind of air vent just in front of her and she’d managed to get her knee on that, relieving some of the strain on the pipe. Ideally, she needed to get her foot on top of the air vent because then she’d be able to boost herself forward to grab the downpipe but she seemed to have frozen.

  I turned back into the room. The top of the door had come away from the frame and someone had hooked their arm over it. It could only be a matter of time now.

  When I next looked, Millie had managed to get her other foot onto the vent and was slowly levering herself into a standing position. She had her cheek pressed against the brickwork as she did so, her whole body vibrating with the effort.

  And then it all went wrong as she simply over-balanced.

  She pitched forward, striking the down-pipe with considerable force and pulling it away from the wall. Somehow, she managed to hook a hand around it and hold on, her feet scrabbling for purchase.

  I could only watch as the whole thing started to come away from the wall in sections. Ancient screws pulled clear as the mortar gave way but Millie somehow hung on. She slid down section-by-section, her path impeded by the various fittings. Eventually, something snapped and the whole thing gave way, showering the forecourt below with lengths of pipe.

  Millie landed awkwardly, hitting the floor hard.

  People were pouring out of the building, attracted by the commotion but I didn’t have long to register what happened next as strong hands pulled me back from the window.

  *

  They sat me on one of the lab stools and spread out to surround me.

  I concentrated on the guy standing in front of me with his hood down. He’d had his head cropped short to make himself look more intimidating but it only served to enhance how large his ears were. He kept balling his fists, readying himself in case I might try something.

  But I just sat there, offering no resistance.

  I was more interested in what was happening outside in the corridor. The door was off its hinges so I could hear some of what was going on. Valeria had sent one of the Advocates off - I imagined - to track down Millie though I didn’t think he’d have much luck there. He’d have to very quick if he planned on running her down. Millie considered herself to be a pretty good runner. So long as she wasn’t injured. She’d landed pretty heavily.

  Valeria was on the phone. She didn’t look happy. She kept walking up and down, running a hand through her hair.

  After about five minutes she finished the call and came into the lab.

  “That was your mother on the phone.”

  I ignored that.

  “Why are you keeping me here? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “You’re wanted in connection with the murder of Anthony Macmillan.”

  I made to laugh at that but it caught in my throat. “So I’m the major suspect? Did you get that from witnesses in the corridor? The one’s who arrived here before I did. Is the idea that they all stood around and watched me kill him?”

  “We’ll be taking their statements in due course.”

  “But they’re not under suspicion and yet you’ve got me pegged as the murderer.”

  “We believe that you murdered him earlier and then returned to the scene.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Perhaps you left something incriminating behind and wanted to retrieve it.”

  I didn’t say a word. Valeria obviously had it all planned out how she intended to frame me.

  There were two Advocates either side of me, each one ready to respond if I should make any attempt at a spell. They weren’t taking any chances.

  “Okay, so if you think I did it, why aren’t you taking my finger prints? Why haven’t you brought in a Skryer to examine the scene? Why aren’t you examining my clothes for blood stains?”

  Valeria’s face brightened. “Who said anything about blood?”

  “The floor was covered in it. The door was open. Everyone saw it. Now, either arrest me or let me go.”

  Valeria’s phone rang. She stepped out into the corridor and spoke briefly. When she’d finished, she turned to regard me. A look of smug satisfaction on her face.

  “Okay,” she said. “You can go.”

  I hadn’t expected that and, judging by the reaction of the advocates, neither had they.

  No one moved.

  “Just like that? One minute I’m the number one suspect, the next you’re just letting me go.”

  “That’s right. It looks like we’ve already got our murderer. I’m sorry if you’ve been inconvenienced but you must understand that this is an on-going investigation.”

  The last she repeated as if by rote. I should have felt relieved but instead I couldn’t ignore the growing sense of dread.

  “Who is it?” I said. “Who is it that you’ve arrested?”

  Valeria’s mouth quirked. “At this stage, I couldn’t possibly comment.”

  “Is it Millie?”

  She tossed her hair to one side. “And what if it were?”

  *

  Valeria wouldn’t let me speak to her, which was hardly surprising.

  “What is it you want?” I said. “Or rather, what is it my mother wants?”

  Valeria made to look all innocent, “Your mother?”

  “Yes. You were on the phone to her. You said, “That was your mother.” Even these guys heard you. What does she want?”

  Valeria bristled. She didn’t want to be perceived as being just another messenger.

  “She is willing to ensure that all charges against your friend are dropped.”

  I thought about that.

  “All of them?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “In return for what?”

  The room fell to silence.

  Valeria dismissed the men with a twitch of her head. “Go and secure the murder scene.”

  No one moved.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  The advocates took their time, moving reluctantly towards the door, their eyes locked on me as if I was about to burst into flames.

  Even when they were in the corridor, they lingered longer than was strictly necessary. They clearly felt that Valeria was making a terrible mistake.

  “What’s so secret that you don’t want them to hear?”

  “Like I said: your mother wants me to make you an offer.”

  I adjusted my position on the stool.

  “Okay. What are her terms?”

  “She’s due to make her acceptance speech this afternoon. She wants you up on the stage next to her.”

  I stiffened in spite of myself.

  “They’re still going ahead with the election?” I nodded in the direction of Macmillan’s office. “In spite of everything that’s happened.”

  “They’re even keener now. They want her in place by this evening. She’s expected to chair her first meeting of the War Council before lunchtime tomorrow.”

  “She’s serious about this? Declaring war on the Sidhe?”

  “It’s happening. All that remains is for you to pick a side.”

  I let my head drop. What was I meant to do? Salazar and Cardoza were both out to get me and my only possible ally was dead, slain by hands unknown. Even if I did man
age to keep hold of the Seelie Blade for a little while longer, I wasn’t sure that I was willing to pay the price for doing so.

  But I couldn’t just hand it over to my mother either because I knew exactly what she’d do with it: she’d use it as a weapon against the Faerie Queen herself. And that could only exacerbate what was already a very delicate situation.

  Just as the Inner Council found itself in desperate need of new leadership my mother appeared, stepping out of the shadows and into the light, ready and eager to lead the way. The timing was almost too perfect.

  “What do you think?” Valeria weighed her mobile in her hand. “I need to give her an answer.”

  “I can’t. I just can’t.”

  I’d spent most of my life trying to distance myself from her but I also knew how vindictive she could be. If I didn’t do as she asked there would be no obvious repercussions as far as I was concerned. She’d say nothing and simply take out her displeasure on Millie.

  And I simply couldn’t allow that to happen.

  Valeria came and stood over me.

  “I can see that this is difficult decision for you. But, if you think about it: what’s the alternative?”

  She was right, of course. They’d already removed Kinsella from the picture and with very little effort. Plus, as far as Millie was concerned, it would suit my mother’s purposes to be able to say that they’d successfully captured Macmillan’s murderer. There wouldn’t even need to be a trial. Both Kinsella and Millie would be locked away until well after the war was over. It would require virtually no effort on my mother’s part.

  Valeria went to lay a hand on my shoulder but I flinched away.

  I said, “I’ll just have to sit there then? I wouldn’t have to say anything?”

  As soon as I said it, I knew how thoroughly I’d been defeated.

  *

  I was accompanied out of the building by Valeria and four of the remaining advocates. They walked me out of the central square and through a different exit which involved a similar illusion but this time with a wooden door frame. From there I was transferred to the back of a mini-van.