Irene wasn’t entirely sure he did believe her. But if he was exposed to that level of power in person, they’d be in so much trouble anyhow that apologies would be pointless. ‘Ao Shun confirmed that Kai is somewhere in the chaos worlds,’ she said, ‘and your witnesses’ testimony from the kidnapping suggests that Lord Guantes took him. But I can’t track him unless we’re already in the same world. Unless you have any other Fae who owe you a favour, then I think our only source of guidance is …’
‘Indeed. Lord Silver.’ Vale pursed his thin lips in an expression of profound dislike. ‘Like you, I see no other alternative.’
‘Lord Silver did say I could visit any time, when we last met,’ she went on. ‘But the visiting card he gave me is at my lodgings, and you’ve confirmed they’re being watched. And in any case, if Lady Guantes is also at the Embassy, we can’t simply walk in through the front door.’
‘Certainly not looking as we do,’ Vale agreed. ‘Besides, there is currently a demonstration in front of the Embassy, so it will have to be the servants’ entrance. And if I am correct, he will be willing to see us with or without a card. Was his manservant with you, when you spoke to him?’
Irene thought back, and nodded. ‘Johnson. A thin man in grey.’
‘He’s our key, then,’ Vale said with satisfaction. ‘Let us prepare.’
And so, later that evening, Irene and Vale were waiting in a line behind the Liechtenstein Embassy. They were swathed in heavy hooded cloaks, which would have been more conspicuous if the half-dozen ahead of them weren’t also heavily cloaked and hooded. Two men were leading sets of dogs - a pair of poodles, a pair of Borzoi, a pair of terriers and a pair of Afghan hounds - all of which played merrily around their legs and caused them to curse frequently and with heavy Russian accents. The Afghan hounds had been bleached white, but the ambient grime of London already lay on their pelts in thick dark smuts. Another man frantically studied a musical score, pausing from time to time to blow a few notes on his long-tarnished flute. And two women - at least, Irene thought they were women - tucked up their cloaks to practise a dance, baring stockinged calves and high-heeled shoes. Behind Irene and Vale, the line stretched further back along the wall of the Embassy. A savvy street-vendor had set up his stall and was selling oranges.
‘Have you done this before?’ Irene asked quietly. The dogs, flautist and tap-dancers made enough noise to cover anything less than shouting on her part.
‘On several occasions,’ Vale said shortly. ‘But please remember your part, Winters. You are—’
‘Your hypnotic medium,’ Irene said obediently. ‘Through whom you can summon up the ancient spirits of the departed Pharaohs.’
‘You are rather glib about this. Have you done anything of this nature yourself?’
Irene wondered if he’d forgotten she was a Librarian by trade, and so usually wore a false identity, but he did have a point. This was more than usually exotic. ‘Not since I was at school,’ she admitted.
‘School?’ Vale queried.
‘Ah. There was one minor incident. An international criminal gang were hiding out in the nearby chalets, and then there was this flood—’
‘Later,’ Vale instructed. The queue had begun to move forward.
However, they had to endure a brief episode when the dogs suddenly refused to enter the Embassy. They had to be lured in by their handlers brandishing beef jerky, prompting several stray dogs to make a determined bid for it. The Embassy staff ended up throwing buckets of water over the lot of them. The two handlers were screaming in Russian, and the flautist was yelling that his sheet music was soaked. But Vale and Irene finally made it through the door and into the Embassy, brushing wet dog hair off their cloaks.
The small receiving room they were shown into was a disappointment. Irene had been expecting something rather more dramatic from the Fae’s inner quarters, but instead the room looked like any shabby below-stairs lounge in London.
Vale leaned forward to speak to the bored-looking maid who’d brought them in, and there was the clink of coins changing hands. ‘We need to speak to Mr Johnson,’ he murmured. The maid bobbed her head and left the room in a rustle of wide skirts.
A long five minutes later, Johnson stepped into the room. ‘You have a private message for me?’ he enquired curtly, his usual civility absent.
Vale nodded to Irene. She took a deep breath and pushed her hood back to show her face. ‘We need to speak to Lord Silver urgently,’ she said.
‘Ah.’ Johnson drew a thoughtful breath through his teeth. ‘Yes. Please raise your hood again. Nobody in the Embassy must know you are here. If you and your friend will follow me, Miss Winters, we will take the back stairs. Lord Silver will see you at once.’
CHAPTER TEN
Silver’s private study surprised Irene. It actually looked like a place where a human being might live and work, rather than an overdone stage set. The divan, although it was upholstered in red velvet, showed the scuffs and traces of regular use, and the tooth marks of something small and gnawy marred one of its legs. The large mahogany desk had stacks of paper on it, rather than being dramatically bare, although the manacles at its corners were a little worrying. The ether-lights in the corners had been turned down, bathing the whole velvet-curtained room in a rich amber gloom. A bookcase in the far corner made Irene itch to wander over and examine its crowded shelves, but she controlled the impulse, looking instead at their owner.
Silver himself was sprawled coatless in a wide chair behind the desk, his cravat hanging loose at his throat. He looked the very model of raffish disreputability, turning a glass of brandy in his hand. He glanced up languidly as Johnson led Irene and Vale into the room, remarking, ‘I must say that you have cut it rather fine. I was expecting you and Miss Winters earlier, Mr Vale.’
Vale pushed back his hood to show his face, and Irene followed suit. She had agreed with Vale that he should take the lead in the interrogation. He had known Silver for longer, and might be able to prod him into a useful revelation. ‘I would hesitate before coming to any appointment with you, sir. You should not be surprised that I am late - you should be surprised that I have arrived at all.’
‘But you received the note, then.’ Silver sipped his brandy.
‘I received it,’ Vale agreed.
‘And you believe I sent it.’
‘I know that you sent it.’
‘And your suspicions as to my motivations?’
‘Hardly suspicions. Certainties.’
‘Entertain me by explaining them, then. I am surprised by so few things these days.’
‘Very well.’ Vale strolled a few steps further into the room. ‘Your dispute with the Guantes is well known. You will not argue that point, I imagine.’
‘My dear Vale, I take pains to cultivate it. You may go on.’
Irene noticed the twitch that passed across Vale’s face at being addressed as an intimate. She drew her cloak closer around her, so as not to show off her ankles, and stepped back, fading into the shadows as she watched the men. Silver might be a master of glamour, but while he was focused on Vale, he wasn’t watching her. And observing from the shadows was her area of expertise.
‘You were aware that Mr Strongrock might be abducted,’ Vale said. ‘And you attempted to give him something that might be charitably described as a warning, when you met him and Miss Winters a few days ago. Possibly you were hindered by observers from telling them more.’
Silver shrugged. ‘I was delivering warnings - I’ll admit it - and there are no laws against that. My advice to you would be to cease meddling in my affairs, or you’ll come to regret it.’
‘As will you, if you continue to interfere with mine.’ There was a whole new quality of iciness to Vale’s voice. ‘Or if you simply continue to play your games with the lives of others.’
‘But why would I play such a game, do you think?’ Silver tapped one nail against his glass, and the crystal chimed prettily. ‘Surely that should be your question, u
nder the circumstances.’
Vale stopped his pacing for a moment to turn and look at Silver. ‘The paper used for the note - purporting to be from Mr Strongrock’s family - was tainted with Fae glamour.’
Silver waved a vague hand. ‘Anyone could have done that. Johnson? Couldn’t you have done that?’
‘No, sir, but I can bear witness that many people in the Embassy might have done so,’ the man murmured.
Vale stalked over to put his hands on Silver’s desk, leaning forward sharply, like a hound coming to point. ‘I suggest that you deliberately intended to involve me in this matter. The note was to alert me that something was amiss about Strongrock’s absence. You have deliberately schemed to bring me and Winters here - to you in particular - as the next step in our investigation. The question is why. Is this some perverse game between you and the Guantes?’
‘Partly,’ Silver allowed. He put down his glass on the desk with a click - Irene thought she saw a twitch pass across Johnson’s face as the glass touched the bare mahogany - and leaned forward, his eyes suddenly alert. ‘I’m glad to see you justifying your reputation, detective.’
‘And did you set your minions on Winters here as well, to involve us further?’ Vale demanded.
‘That would be overdoing matters,’ Silver said. ‘Lady Guantes set the minions on Miss Winters here. Lord Guantes … has already left this sphere.’
Confirmation at last. ‘And he took Kai with him,’ Irene murmured from the shadows.
‘Miss Winters is correct,’ Silver said, still gazing at Vale. ‘Lord Guantes has taken the dragon with him. By now they are beyond your reach.’
‘You underestimate my reach,’ Vale said.
‘Your influence may hold in the East End of London, detective, but not beyond this sphere.’
‘His may not,’ Irene said, stepping forward, ‘but is Lord Guantes prepared to answer to Kai’s father?’
‘An interesting question,’ Silver agreed amiably. ‘Lord Guantes’ actions are his own, after all. I am sure that if his misdemeanour could be proven, he and his beloved wife must admit responsibility.’ There was a muted undertone of pleasure to his words, the almost gloating pleasure of watching an opponent - or a pawn, Irene reflected - move to a weakened position.
‘You are the Ambassador,’ Vale stated. ‘You have authority over him.’
‘One that he disputes. And in any case, he is not here.’
‘Then where is he?’ Irene asked. ‘In what sphere?’
‘Elsewhere,’ Silver said. ‘Venice. Well, an alternate Venice, in a sphere of masks and illusions. The name of the world would mean nothing to you. It’s far beyond your ambit.’
‘And,’ Irene said, feeling her way, ‘no doubt this would be towards the more - well, chaotic end of the universe?’
‘Indeed,’ Silver said. ‘For one of the great dragons to venture there would be an act of war.’
Vale drew in his breath sharply. ‘Surely you exaggerate. If Mr Strongrock was taken there against his will—’
‘Irrelevant.’ Silver rose to his feet, as tall as Vale. The light seemed to centre itself around the two of them, drawing the eye. ‘But even if it is true, it doesn’t matter. And his family will know that.’
Vale cast an apologetic look at Irene, and she returned a brusque nod. Yes, I did try to tell you. And here’s your proof - if you can’t take my word for it.
Irene ignored the trick of the light: it was just one more show of Silver’s glamour. ‘To business, Lord Silver. You have said that the great dragons cannot interfere there. You have implied you won’t intervene yourself. However, you have deliberately drawn our attention to Kai’s situation, and made us fully aware of what is taking place.’ She could hear the ring of certainty in her voice. ‘You want us to go, don’t you?’
Silver’s mouth curled up at the edges, into a smile as sweet as ice-wine and as sharp as vodka. ‘Why yes, Miss Winters, my dear little Librarian. That is precisely what I want you to do.’
‘Her?’ Vale demanded. He’d caught the emphasis in Silver’s voice, just as Irene had.
‘You cannot go, detective,’ Silver said dismissively. ‘The chaos of that sphere would be too strong for you. You could not endure its power. But the lady is sealed to her Library. Her nature would be unaffected.’
‘Let her go alone?’ Vale said, at the same moment that Irene said, ‘You can take me there?’
‘Precisely,’ Silver agreed. He smiled, stepping back from the desk to stretch. Irene could see the lines of his body through his shirt and had to suppress the sudden treacherous warmth in her own veins. The feelings he provoked were lies. And so were the ease and certainty of his smile. There was something hurried behind it, something uncertain and panicked.
‘I would be less inclined to trust you, were you not so obviously driven by desperation,’ Irene said softly.
Silver froze, dropping his arms to his sides. ‘You are mistaken,’ he said icily.
‘Hardly. The great dragons cannot reach the world where Lord Guantes has taken refuge. However, they can come here, and will take great offence at one of their children going missing.’ Irene paid out the words like the strokes of a clock in the silent room. ‘Perhaps his family wouldn’t cause a war by destroying this other Venice, but what would they do to this world, the seat of your power?’
The colour had drained from Silver’s cheeks. ‘You are merely guessing,’ he said without conviction.
‘I don’t need to guess,’ Irene said calmly. ‘I’ve spoken to his family. I know.’
‘This world means nothing to me!’ Silver snarled, but Irene wasn’t convinced.
‘And what about Lord Guantes? Does he matter - Lord Argent?’
Silver sat down hard in his chair and lowered his head to his hands. ‘He will destroy me,’ he said, his voice muffled. ‘We have crossed swords before, many times. And our own lords have forbidden us to war against each other again. The damage to the others of our kind was too great. But if his power should grow to far outmatch my own, then they will not object to him destroying me. I can imagine the favour he will gain through holding a dragon captive, the power - and even if I escape this world, he will hunt me down. He doesn’t even want me as a rival. He wants to end me.’
‘But why?’ Irene demanded. ‘Why are you two fighting like this?’
‘Oh, there was some reason,’ Silver said vaguely. ‘I dishonoured his sister, or he attacked my mother, or something of that sort. I can’t say that I remember, it was all so long ago. But you must understand that vengeance was necessary. He’s a plotter, a devious manipulator, and his wife is worse. The two of them have no sense of art, no interest in living. They care about power, nothing but power, but their use of it contains no style. We simply cannot understand each other - and I, for one, have no wish to,’ he added petulantly.
‘And thus your wish to send Miss Winters on a possibly suicidal mission, so she can sort out this mess, after you’ve done nothing to prevent it.’ Vale snorted. ‘Pitiful behaviour, even for one of your kind.’
Silver lowered his hands and looked up at Vale. ‘Think what you like,’ he said slowly. ‘Insult me as you will. But unless Miss Winters does as I suggest, you, I and your friend the dragon will all face irretrievable ruin. I give you both my sworn word that I am not doing this out of any intent to trap or destroy Miss Winters. My own interests are paramount, and I need her alive and capable to help me carry them out.’
Irene was becoming impatient with Silver’s dramatics. Kai was in real and serious danger. She would gladly stand around and trade insults with Silver later, but not now. At least if he was willing to give his sworn word, then he was sincere. Fae might stretch their formally given oaths, but they wouldn’t break them. ‘Explain your plan, Lord Silver. How else are we to judge it?’
Silver sighed. ‘Here it is, then. Lord Guantes has the power to cross between spheres while taking with him one of your friend’s nature. My own power is less than his - I could only
carry humans at best, or others of my kind - and Lady Guantes is weaker still. Lord Guantes has made bargains to ensure that anyone who wants to witness his triumph can travel to this alternate Venice. He has summoned the Horse and the Rider, who are among the great ones of my kind, so they can carry as many passengers as they wish. They will appear as a train in this world. Yes, that form should provoke the least comment.’ He paused to consider. ‘I will be travelling on that train with several servants, and shall take the lady along in disguise. She will then pretend to have boarded at a different transit point, posing as another of my kind. When we reach Venice, she may rescue the dragon and escape in whatever way best pleases her.’
‘You consider that to be a plan?’ Vale demanded.
‘I am not aware of the Librarian’s full capabilities,’ Silver said loftily. ‘No doubt she has many strange powers that are unknown to me.’
‘So I am to go alone,’ Irene said, checking to make sure she had this absolutely correct, ‘to a world at your end of reality, surrounded by your kind, and will have to rescue Kai with no assistance - I take it you won’t be able to assist me?’
Silver shrugged. ‘Only if I can do so without being observed, my little mouse. And of course Johnson will be able to provide you with the usual services: coffee, tea, your boots blacked, your mask polished, your revolver loaded, and so on.’
Irene nodded. There was a sort of relief in knowing the worst. She very nearly felt light-headed with it. After all, the plan was utterly ludicrous. And if this was Silver’s idea of developing a story-form, she didn’t like his taste in adventure fiction. But it was still a chance to get Kai back. She smiled. ‘And then I will have to escape that place, possibly with Kai in less than perfect condition.’
‘I’d keep him drugged, if it were me keeping him hostage there,’ Silver commented helpfully, ‘though of course the atmosphere of that sphere will be highly uncongenial to his nature, so he might be unconscious anyhow.’
Definitely the worst. There was really nothing Irene could do but try not to laugh. When the course of events became quite so impossibly dangerous, the best thing to do was to ride with it. ‘And then finally I must restore Kai to his family. Or at least to a safe place.’
The Masked City Page 11
