by Emma Newman
“It’s hard to tell with him,” the gargoyle said. “I don’t suppose it really bothers you, but I’m not sure I want to…you know…actually kill her.”
“You won’t have to,” Max said, pulling away again at the green light. “It would be me.”
The frustrated sigh that percolated in the gargoyle’s throat sounded like the motorcycle that had been idling next to them at the lights. “Yeah, but muggins here will have to mop up all the emotional fallout. But you go ahead, who cares, right?”
Max didn’t have anything to say to that. It seemed there was very little of benefit to say when the gargoyle got sulky. Another couple of miles and then he would pull over again.
“I suppose something has to be done to stop her,” the gargoyle said, a mile later. “I mean, you can’t just go around killing people. But it bothers me that we don’t know why she did it. I mean, it’s a pretty select group of people she’s been targeting. Why Sorcerers and Chapters?”
“The Chapters support the Sorcerers and their control over the Heptarchy. Perhaps she is in league with the Fae-touched to give them more freedom to abuse the lack of supervision. Or even the Fae themselves. She had to learn that magic somewhere.”
“She must have cut a deal,” the gargoyle said. “How else could she have both types of magic under her control? And anyway, aren’t they supposed to be the opposite of each other? How does that even work?”
Max thought about when they found her in the tower close to the former Sorcerer of Essex’s home. How easy it seemed to be for her to work the magic that killed all of the Oxford Chapter. He’d never seen Ekstrand at work. Perhaps it was easy for all of them. “She didn’t kill the Camden Chapter, though. I wonder if she has a use for them.”
“Maybe they just aren’t a threat, seeing as they’re in her pocket. We saw that, didn’t we?”
It was an interesting question. Had they actually seen that? They had found the Tower she lived in by going through the corrupt Chapter Master’s office, but he didn’t actually mention her explicitly. In fact, when he thought back to it, the Chapter Master was still under the impression that he was working for Dante. He didn’t know about the Sorceress at all. He thought that the orders to turn a blind eye to the activities of the Fae-touched came from Dante. “That Chapter doesn’t know about her,” Max said to the gargoyle. “If anything, the corrupt Chapter in London is actually in the pocket of the Irises.” There was a moment of something he would describe as satisfaction, as two pieces fell into place. “That’s the deal I think she struck,” he said to the gargoyle. “I think Iris gave her knowledge of his particular…flavour of magic, and in return, the Irises in Londinium had free rein. Remember how they ignored Cathy’s breach at Nelson’s Column? I think that’s why.”
“What about the Arbiters that tried to kill us? That dodgy Chapter Master said they weren’t his.”
“Maybe the Sorceress has another Chapter elsewhere that she’s been using the same way. We’ve never had a chance to investigate the state of the other parts of the Heptarchy. She could simply have sent them. Or he could have lied.”
He saw a lay-by up ahead and pulled over. Following the same procedure as he had at the previous stops, he waited for Kay’s text. This time, his phone rang instead.
“Max? I think we might have a problem.”
“I’m listening.”
“So…I might be wrong but it looks like the target could be on Lord Iron’s estate. I double-checked the file and it’s the address we have listed for him. Rupert isn’t here, so I don’t know whether it’s okay to just go there. Do you know?”
“We’re on good terms with all of the Elemental Court, as far as I’m aware,” Max said. “I’m going to head to his address and try to verify the target’s presence there.”
“Um, okay, but be careful. She sounds really dangerous.”
“Yes, I know,” Max said. “I’ll update you later.”
“Kay cares about us,” the gargoyle said once the call was ended. “Surely even you can tell that.”
Max gave that comment the amount of attention it deserved and pulled back onto the road after consulting the map and the address that Kay had texted. They were less than a mile away, so he put the time to good use and ordered his thoughts before arrival.
There were three possibilities. The first was that Lord Iron had no idea the Sorceress was hiding at his estate. While his mundane wealth was significant, the mundane security it would pay for might be circumvented by her peculiar skill set. Saying that, Max wasn’t sure if her strange hybrid magic might be rendered useless there, as Fae magic was reputed to be.
The second possibility was that Lord Iron knew she was there, perhaps even hosting her as a guest, without knowing who she really was and what she’d done. This seemed more likely than the third possibility: that Lord Iron knew she was a murderer, and simply didn’t care. From his own interactions with the man, Max had the impression he was not the sort of person who would condone such behaviour.
Whichever of those possibilities was the actual truth, Max had to identify whether the target was there, and in the interest of good relations being maintained between the last Sorcerer of Albion and the Elemental Court, surely he was obliged to warn Lord Iron about her nature?
“Cathy is probably there,” the gargoyle said. “I mean, where else could she go and be safe from those Fae bastards? We should see if she’s all right.”
“She either will be or she won’t. Our knowing it won’t make any difference,” Max replied. He ignored the gargoyle’s groan.
Soon enough they reached the short road that led to the edge of Lord Iron’s estate. Max headed for the gatehouse, parking the car in the space next to it so he could leave the gargoyle well out of sight.
A guard opened the door of the small stone building when Max got out of the car, staying inside the threshold to avoid the snow. “Good afternoon,” the man said with a polite nod. “Can I help you?”
“I’d like to see Mr Ferran,” Max said. “My name is Max. We’re acquainted, but he isn’t expecting me.”
“I’ll make a quick call and see if he is available. Would you like to wait inside? It’s warmer in here.”
“Thank you.”
Max was guided towards a small sitting room at the back of the gatehouse with a window overlooking the parked car. He checked to see that the gargoyle wasn’t moving around and then, when the guard went to make the phone call, he pulled the gadget out of his pocket. Instead of showing mostly red lights, the majority were now green. A text came through from Kay. Target is less than a mile to the east of your location. That puts her in Lord Iron’s house. Go carefully. He might be on her side. Max deleted the text and dropped the phone back into his pocket.
The guard returned, the polite smile still in place. “Mr Ferran is on his way.”
“I can’t go to the house?”
“Mr Ferran said that he will come to you here. Please, make yourself comfortable; he’ll be a few minutes.”
So Lord Iron didn’t want him to go to the house. He was inclined to agree with Kay’s appraisal. But he still felt that he was obligated to warn him. It was unlikely that the Sorceress would be open about her crimes, after all.
He watched the snow fall. Why would the Sorceress come here, of all places? Did she need Lord Iron for something? To commission a piece, perhaps, as the Sorcerers sometimes did? Or to bring him onside? Both of those explanations suggested that killing the Sorcerers on the Isle of Man was not the completion of her plan.
The sound of a car drew his attention back outside again. A large 4×4 was parking next to Max’s old estate. Mr Ferran got out, followed by Cathy. Max knew the gargoyle wanted to see her, but he conveyed his warning to stay hidden as best he could. He didn’t want the guards to see it.
After a brief conversation, during which Mr Ferran seemed to be checking something with Cathy, both of them hurried from the car to the gatehouse. Cathy was dressed in a coat far too big for her and Mr Fe
rran looked very smart indeed. He kept looking at Cathy, concerned, which puzzled Max momentarily, but then he realised they were outside of the formal estate boundary and probably wary of any Iris Seeker Charms. Cathy appeared to reassure him and then they both came into the waiting room.
“Hi, Max,” she said brightly. “How are you?”
“I am well, thank you.”
“Look, I wasn’t in the best state of mind when I last saw you. I know you came to see Sam, but I wanted to say thanks for helping me. Has Bertrand been punished for what he did?”
“Yes, he was expelled from Society. His family have been given permission to remain in the Nether, but have been excluded socially.”
Cathy nodded. “Good. Exactly what we hoped for. Thanks. Has…has Will hassled you?”
“No.”
“Do you want to speak in private?”
Max shook his head, thinking that having two of them to watch might reveal more. “No. If you are resident here, it’s a matter that concerns you, too.”
“I don’t mind,” Sam said. “Let’s all sit down. Is it the Irises? We’ve been expecting them to make a move.”
Max moved his chair to sit opposite them, and to be able to see out of the window to keep an eye on his car. “That’s not the reason I came. Is there another woman staying in your house, Lord Iron?”
The way they both looked at each other said a great deal about how both were reluctant to talk about it. “That’s a personal question, Max,” Sam said. “Since when would you be interested in any of my houseguests?”
“Since one of them is a murderer.”
“It isn’t as simple as that,” Sam said.
“So you don’t deny that she’s at your house, nor that she is a murderer?”
“I’m saying that this is complicated,” Sam replied. “Look, I’m not happy about what she’s done, in principle. I don’t condone murder, but the Sorcerers weren’t innocents, let’s face it.”
“Look at how Ekstrand refused to help me,” Cathy said. “And all the other people in the Nether who suffer every day because they have no one outside of that world to help them. And what was done to you! Did you want to have your soul dislocated?”
“What I may or may not have wanted is irrelevant,” Max said, aware that his car had started to rock on its suspension as the gargoyle started moving about.
“I went to Ekstrand and asked him for help to protect my wife,” Sam said, “and he didn’t give a shit. I tried to save those people from Exilium and neither of you lifted a finger to help them. Now, I know you are bound by rules, but Ekstrand could have helped and he didn’t.”
“Are you arguing that because he didn’t help people who fell outside of the remit of the Split Worlds Treaty, he deserved to be murdered?” Max asked.
Sam rubbed his chin, agitated. “No. No, I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that she has her reasons. And seeing as the people she killed had been screwing people over for centuries, I’m not going to lose any sleep over it.”
“Ekstrand didn’t care about anyone except himself, Max, you know that,” Cathy said. “He saw all those people in the basement at the Agency, didn’t he? The ones the gargoyle told me about.”
There was a thud from outside and Max had a flash of the gargoyle knocking the entirety of the back seat upright into the main space of the car.
“Didn’t he?” Cathy pressed. “And he didn’t give a shit about them.”
“You are both arguing to defend a murderer,” Max said. “Based on your judgement that the Sorcerers deserved it. What about the others? She has also killed the Arbiters of their Chapters and all of the researchers who worked to support them. Over fifty people in my Chapter alone. My colleagues. She murdered them all. There were dozens of Chapters, all over the country. I believe she did the same to them.”
Both Sam and Cathy looked distinctly uncomfortable. Behind them, Max saw the car’s rear passenger door open and the gargoyle slink out, keeping as low as a panther on the prowl, staying below the eye line of the 4×4 driver. At least it was being discreet in its disobedience. Wanting to avoid the gatehouse guard seeing it, Max opened the window, allowing the gargoyle inside.
“Cathy,” it said, and went over to her. She rested her hand on the top of its head. “Are you okay?”
She shrugged. “Things are complicated,” she said.
“I take it you won’t object if we seek to remove her from your property?” Max asked.
“Hang on a minute!” Sam said. “Look, this is all…there are things going on here that are…important. I’m not going to just hand her over to you. Not until I understand it all.”
“What is there to understand?” Max said, thinking that Sam was so flustered he could reveal what he knew about the Sorceress and her motivation. “She’s a murderer.”
“But there’s a reason why she killed them,” Sam said. “She’s not just some psycho who did it for kicks.”
“And what would that reason be, Mr Ferran?”
Sam closed his mouth, exchanging another look with Cathy. She held his gaze for a moment, looking very troubled. After taking a deep breath, she turned to the gargoyle. “Do you think that what the Sorcerers did to you was right?”
The gargoyle’s heavy stone brow furrowed. “No.”
“It was necessary,” Max said, but the gargoyle growled.
“We were thirteen years old!” it said. “We shouldn’t have even been taken in the first place.”
“How else is the Treaty to be policed?”
“Kay will find a better way. Better than bloody Rupert ever will. He’s just as bad as Ekstrand.”
“Is Rupert the one you mentioned to me before?” Cathy asked. “Ekstrand’s replacement? He’s still alive?”
“Yeah,” the gargoyle said. “He tricked her into thinking she’d killed him.”
“Get in the car,” Max said, pointing to the gargoyle. If Rupert knew what had just been said, they’d be slaughtered.
“Shit,” Cathy muttered. “She thinks they are all dead.”
“We should probably tell her,” Sam said.
Cathy looked at Max and the gargoyle. “No. We can’t. If she finds out about him, Max and the gargoyle will be in danger. Best she doesn’t know about any of them.”
Sam leaned back, looking very stressed. “Cathy…I don’t think we can hide it from her. She’d want to know.”
Cathy rested her hand on the gargoyle’s head, looking into its stone eyes, deep in thought. “We shouldn’t be divided over this,” she finally said. “Max, Gargoyle, you shouldn’t work for Rupert. He’s not trustworthy. And Sam, we need to look out for Max here. These are my friends. They’ve helped me and they didn’t barter for it, either. Beatrice is using us, as much as I am using her to learn what I need to. We need to talk this through together, without her or Rupert being involved. I trust everyone in this room. I don’t trust the Sorcerers. Any of them.”
Sam rubbed the stubble on his chin, keeping silent.
“Look,” Cathy said, keeping her hand resting on the gargoyle. “Max, regardless of what that woman has done, we have to face up to the fact that the Treaty is failing a lot of people. People like me, and you, and Sam’s wife. People who should have been protected and weren’t.” She looked at the gargoyle. “This Rupert, is he really just as bad as Ekstrand?”
“Don’t answer that,” Max said.
“He’s just as selfish,” the gargoyle said.
She nodded. “Does he know about the people in that basement?” When it nodded, she looked at Max. “Don’t you think that we have to at least look at—”
Max didn’t want to be derailed from his assignment. “You are harbouring a murderer, Mr Ferran. I am asking you, with all respect, to consider your position on this very carefully.”
“It’s not that simple,” Cathy said. “Beatrice has a plan that—”
“Cathy!” Sam sounded almost panicked. “We can’t say anything to them about it. Remember?”
�
��Can’t we at least talk about working together to help those people held by the Agency?” Cathy said. “Max, come on, this is important! I can’t do it by myself! I need your help.”
“Mr Ferran,” Max prompted.
“As long as Beatrice is my guest, she’s under my protection, whether you think she deserves that or not. I don’t give my permission for you or your spare Sorcerer to come onto my estate. Not until all this is sorted out.”
“Then I think it’s best for us to leave,” Max said.
The gargoyle’s growl deepened. “So you’re just going to walk away when we need to work together?” it said. “Cathy’s right, we’re the only ones who can do anything about the Agency. If we ignore this now, we’re no better than the bloody Sorcerers!”
Max opened the door and stared at the gargoyle. “We’re done here. It’s not our place to get involved in things like this any more than we already have.”
Cathy jumped to her feet. “Not your place? What kind of bullshit is that? You can’t keep avoiding this. What they did to you was barbaric. You need to face up to it and you need to work with me. Otherwise all of these other people will keep making decisions for us, whether it’s the Fae or the Sorcerers or whoever else holds the bloody leash! Beatrice is planning to—”
“No, Cathy!” Sam said, louder. “The oath! She’ll know!”
A loud beep made Cathy jump, and Max knew another text had arrived. Normally he would have ignored it, but with clarification from Rupert needed now more than ever, he opened the message.
About to call. Pick up but DO NOT SPEAK OR SAY ANYTHING. Just listen.
“Something’s wrong,” the gargoyle said. It looked at Cathy. “We should all hear this.” It moved away from her to rest its haunches against Max. “There’s something bigger than us happening here. Cathy’s right. We look after each other. We all need to be informed.”
It was definitely an unusual message. He held up the phone screen for Cathy and Sam to read. “That’s from Kay, who works for Rupert,” he said.
They both nodded. “You can put it on speakerphone,” Sam said, and when Max looked at him blankly, he took the phone when it rang and pressed something.
