The Seventh Star

by Mark Hayden

  It didn’t take the nurse long to appear, a hollow-eyed African woman who looked like she’d done too many night shifts. She came over and I mimed a drinking action.

  ‘In a minute,’ she said. She shook Mina’s shoulder gently and whispered, ‘He’s awake. I’m going to check his temperature, then I’m going to get him a drink.’

  She worked quickly and in silence, leaving Mina to stretch and then look into my eyes. It was when I saw her smile that I knew everything was going to be alright. As soon as the pain went away, that is. When the nurse came back with a beaker and straw, she handed it to Mina.

  Mina came over and kissed my forehead. ‘Ganesh has answered my prayers again. Here you are. No more than a quarter of the cup to start with.’

  The water tasted beautiful. It was Chester tap water, but it had the floral tinge of Nimue in it. That was nice, but alarming. I don’t want everything to taste of spring flowers for the rest of my life.

  Mina took the cup away before I’d got properly started. ‘Spoilsport,’ I croaked.

  ‘It’s for your own good, Conrad. You can have some more in ten minutes.’

  She put the beaker down and held my hand. Hers was cold, and I realised that I was no longer freezing. The pain didn’t subside, but it came more into focus. It seemed to be muscles that were hurting. And my backside. What was that all about? I didn’t make the ten minutes and fell asleep again before I got to have another drink.

  ‘Wakey wakey, Uncle Conrad,’ said a familiar Geordie voice when I emerged again.

  ‘Go away, Vicky. You are not Mina.’

  ‘Tough. You’ll have to make do with me for now.’

  ‘Drink?’

  ‘Here you go.’

  It was daylight and the other three patients were already awake and two were out of bed. Vicky raised the bed and gave me the beaker to take as much water as I wanted. After that, I felt a lot better. ‘Has Mina gone to get some sleep?’ I asked.

  ‘Why nah. She’s gone outside to scream at the Boss. She’s not entirely happy with what happened yesterday.’

  ‘Neither am I. What did happen? Medically speaking.’

  She breathed out a long sigh. ‘It was close, Conrad. Are you sure you’re up to hearing the gruesome details?’

  ‘I’d prefer breakfast, to be honest.’

  ‘You’ll have to wait for that. Well, in the absence of cornflakes, I can tell you that I still hold the record for being deadest the longest. Your heart didn’t stop once.’

  ‘So why did I black out and why do I feel like shit?’

  ‘Terminal exsanguination. I had to look that up.’

  ‘You mean I nearly bled to death.’

  ‘Aye. And hypothermia. With almost no blood, there’s nothing to pump heat round. And you spent twenty minutes submerged in freezing water.’

  ‘Submerged?’

  ‘Totally. Nimue flowed around you and we couldn’t get close. Piers said that Nimue must have put something other than water in your lungs so you could get oxygen. He used the time to save your life.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘He rang 999 and pretended to be a doctor. He was dead convincing and he had the paramedic ambulance on the way before he’d finished the call. Then he said they had to put a rapid transfusion system on standby. He told them to activate the hypothermia protocol and prepare the blood as well.’

  Something wasn’t quite right here. ‘How did he know my blood group?’

  ‘He didn’t. He told them to look up your trauma records from when they operated on your leg. They’re all on the national system. The ambulance was already at the gates when Nimue let you go.’

  ‘Then what happened?’

  ‘Piers showed me how to keep you alive using Lux instead of oxygen while he got the ambulance up to the woods. After that it was a matter of luck and your constitution. And Mina says Ganesh had a hand. I couldn’t possibly comment.’

  ‘So why do I feel like this? And why does… never mind.’

  She laughed. With relief, I hope. ‘Why does your arse hurt? They had to flush your intestines with warm water to stop your internal organs shutting down from the cold. The doctor was none too gentle, I don’t think. And your muscles hurt because of acidosis. Side effect. I know Mina wanted to tell you herself, but you deserve to know. There should be no lasting damage.’

  I nodded to myself, focusing on the memories of water and pain. Then I held out my hand to Vicky. She reached over and took it. ‘You’ve saved my life again, Vic.’ We’ve done that to each other so often now that we’ve gone beyond thanks. I gave her hand a squeeze. ‘I owe Piers big time.’

  She carried on holding my hand for a second, then let go. ‘Aye, well, there’s a problem there. I was focused on scanning you while Nimue had you in her clutches, so I didn’t really listen to what Piers said. He didn’t just tell the operator about your medical history, he gave them your date of birth. And he’d brought a compression bandage in his pocket. Mina spotted both of those.’

  ‘Wetherill knew what would happen. Surely Hannah knew that, too.’

  ‘Which is why Mina got on to Hannah as soon as you came out of the treatment room, and why Mina’s downstairs giving Hannah grief in the car park.’

  ‘If Hannah doesn’t hang up on her.’

  ‘Hang up? She’s here. Arrived overnight.’

  Whoa. Hannah was here? Actually in the North? ‘What prompted that?’

  ‘It was when Mina said that she’d taken your firearms. She said that if Hannah didn’t explain herself and suspend Piers, she was going to hunt him down and shoot him in both kneecaps before she went to London and did the same to Hannah.’

  We both knew that wasn’t an idle threat. And so did Hannah. No wonder she’d come up. ‘Has Mina got the guns now?’

  ‘No. She’s left them in a safe place. Hannah said on the phone that when she performed the rite, she was only immersed for a few seconds and only lost a syringeful of blood. Clearly Piers was expecting the worst this time. He’s gone to ground and isn’t answering his phone.’

  I took some more water and rinsed it round my mouth. This was serious. I was glad to be alive, of course, and clearly Piers hadn’t wanted me dead at all costs. He still had a lot of questions to answer, though.

  A new nurse appeared, much brighter eyed than her night-shift colleague. ‘I’ll bet you’re hungry, Conrad. Let me take your readings, then I’ll put you on the breakfast list before they come up from the kitchens.’

  Vicky stood up and bent down to give me a kiss. ‘I’ve saved the bad news till last. You have to do it again every year at the Vernal Equinox. The good news is that you can have help. I’ve already put it in me calendar.’

  ‘I can’t wait. Thanks, Vic.’

  ‘Aye. You get some rest, Uncle C.’

  The nurse finished her readings and told me that I was doing well. ‘Don’t quote me, but I reckon they’ll kick you out in the afternoon unless you’re showing signs of an infection.’

  Mina appeared shortly afterwards. For obvious reasons, she doesn’t clench her jaw when she’s angry. Instead, she purses her lips and pushes her head forward. Under the LED lights, her nose looked a lot pointier than normal.

  ‘Vicky says you’re doing well.’ She stopped a foot from the bed and closed her eyes. She breathed out slowly and forced her shoulders to relax. When she sat on the bed and put her arms round me, she was crying.

  My left arm still had the drip, and a big bandage over the puncture wounds, so I hugged her as best I could with my right arm and kissed the top of her head. When the sobs had calmed down, I said, ‘Is Hannah still Matron of Honour?’

  ‘Don’t. It’s not funny. Not this time. If I catch up with Piers Wetherill before she does, the wedding may be postponed while I serve another jail sentence.’

  ‘Vicky told me. We’ll do a knee each, shall we?’

  She gave me an extra squeeze. ‘Still not funny, Conrad.’

  ‘Where’s the gun?’

  ‘In Sco
ut’s basket, of course.’

  ‘Of course it is.

  She drew back and grabbed a tissue to wipe her eyes. ‘Hannah is consumed by guilt. She wanted the bonding to be a surprise. Her way of getting you back for all the problems you’ve caused her. She is genuinely mortified.’

  ‘Good. And so she should be. All I need now is some breakfast.’

  Mina didn’t let Hannah come to see me until the official visiting hour at three o’clock. I don’t know what the Hebrew for mea culpa, mea maxima culpa might be, but I’m sure she said it ten times before I convinced her that hers was a sin of omission.

  ‘Piers has retired,’ she said. ‘He sent his Badge of office to Middlebarrow Lodge by courier this morning. And before you ask, I haven’t been able to get in touch with him.’

  ‘What did Mina say?’

  ‘“Good.” She also cursed him a long and painful illness. I think she’s moved on.’ She paused. ‘What do you feel about him, Conrad?’

  She was politely asking if I were plotting my own revenge. ‘Don’t tell Mina, but it’s not over for me. He made a calculated move in letting me perform the rite, and until I know why, I won’t know what’s going on.’

  ‘Tell me about it. I’ll put the word out.’

  ‘Let me sort it out. Please.’

  ‘As you wish. You realise what this means, don’t you?’

  ‘That you’ve lost another experienced Watch Captain. What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’ve called up that lad who came third at your assessment session. Andy. He was still dead keen for some reason. Bloody fool.’ She shifted in the seat. ‘I’m going to put him with Dominic Richmond.’

  ‘Eh? The man whose pelvis and femur are in more pieces than a jigsaw?’

  ‘Dom is a good healer. The bones are knitted. He just needs the pins out and physio. Andy can drive him round and run errands.’ She saw the look on my face. ‘I know you didn’t get on with Dom, but he’s not a bad Watch Captain. You put his nose out of joint when you turned up, and then he got in out of his depth. He’s learnt his lesson. He actually suggested you should run a training weekend.’

  ‘Flattery will get you nowhere. A fresh jug of water might sway me. There’s a chilled water dispenser by the nurses’ station.’

  She came back with the drink and a nurse, who said, ‘That’s your third jug this afternoon, Conrad. I’m just going to take your temperature in case you’re running a fever.’

  ‘I thought it was just hot in here,’ I said while she stuck the thermometer my ear. Then she frowned and did it again.

  ‘I think the doctor had better see you. It’s up one and a half degrees. Are you feeling alright in yourself?’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘I’ll be back shortly.’

  Hannah grimaced and leaned towards me. ‘I keep forgetting that you weren’t born a Mage. You may be experiencing some Imprint stress while your body adjusts to being part Nymph.’

  ‘Part Nymph? As in female?’

  ‘And what’s wrong with that?’ She grinned. ‘Has water started tasting funny?’

  ‘Yes. Sometimes.’

  ‘It took me a bit of getting used to at first. When you focus, you can smell fresh water systems. Another reason I don’t like going into the countryside. And before you say anything, I can’t smell the Thames until I get to your friend’s house at Richmond. Not that I go very often.’

  ‘Is the adjustment dangerous?’

  ‘No. A bit uncomfortable. They might keep you in for an extra day or two.’

  I nodded. ‘Boss, I need you to think about something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The Count of Canal Street. We’ll never solve it on our own. We need a proper detective.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Either Tom Morton comes on board, or Ruth is sent up here.’

  ‘Tom Morton! You’re hallucinating already, Conrad.’

  ‘Hear me out. Please.’

  ‘You’ve got until the doctor turns up, then I’m going.’

  ‘Did Vicky tell you what Tara Doyle said at Ribblegate Farm?’

  ‘She did.’ She looked at the machines bleeping quietly over my shoulder. ‘I must admit that I haven’t had much head-space to think about it.’

  ‘There is no crime scene to investigate. No body. None of the Fae dependent on Tara did it. I can only see two options: find that witness or start running around accusing people and shaking the tree, and that’s what the Queen of Alderley hired us to avoid.’

  She did give it some thought. As expected, there was no hurry for the doctor to appear.

  ‘You’re right,’ she finally said. ‘You do need help from the police. Why Tom Morton? After what you went through, I thought he’d be the last policeman you wanted to see.’

  ‘He’s good. He can keep his mouth shut. He’s got no loyalties.’

  She nodded her head. ‘I can see that. I also know you, Conrad, and I know about your little band of warriors.’ She gave me a dark look. ‘If I ever find that you’ve given a Merlyn’s Tower Irregulars badge to one of the Watch, I’ll lock you in the cellar with Nimue. Are we clear?’ I nodded. ‘So, under no circumstances are you to Entangle DCI Morton. And I need your word on that.’

  I was starting to sweat and took another drink. ‘I give you my word that I will not seek to Entangle Tom Morton or DC Fraser and do my utmost to keep them away from magick.’

  ‘Good. Now, how do we get him? What on earth are we going to say?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that. We use the Security Liaison guy, John Lake. And we need a proper cover story for the King’s Watch.’

  ‘Go on.’

  I’d just got started when the doctor appeared, and I noticed that sweat was starting to drip off my nose.

  ‘I’ll go and get Mina,’ said Hannah, and that was the last thing I remember about Thursday.

  7 — No Complaints

  VICKY

  They sent me to Garstang because they think that I don’t have a history with either Tom Morton or Lucia Berardi. Conrad knows differently, but he’s locked in an isolation ward and complaining about the smell of flowers. He’ll get over it.

  We’ve all made mistakes. Sometimes I think that the Merlyn’s Tower Irregulars should be renamed The Second Chance Club. We’re all members of that group, and I got my ticket stamped over a handbag.

  A handbag?

  Yes, but in my defence, it wasn’t just any handbag, it was a di Sanuto Exclusive.

  For any blokes who might be reading this, a di Sanuto Exclusive is one of the most expensive bags in the world, and the most exclusive of Exclusives are the ones designed by Lucy’s mam, Paola Berardi. You could say that I pawned my soul for one; Conrad helped me get it back.

  The latest addition to Lucy’s coffee empire was down one of the alleys off the High Street in Garstang, which happens to be the nearest town to Ribblegate Farm, and goodness knows what the Kirkhams did to get their membership of the Irregulars. I dread to think what sort of mischief farmers could get up to.

  Caffè Milano at Garstang had scaffolding round it and it looked like Lucy was spending a lot of money on refurbishment. A big sign pinned to the scaffolding said We are still Open! and had several smiley face emojis on it. The interior still needed a lot of TLC, judging by the chipped tables and rickety chairs. The only new feature was a huge, bright red coffee machine that was so Italian you could almost hear it singing opera while it foamed the milk. Lucy was standing on a small plinth and polishing it until it gleamed.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, stepping down and coming to shake my hand. ‘I’ve cleared some space in the back room. What would you like? On the house, of course.’

  ‘You know what, I’d really love a hot chocolate if it’s not too much trouble.’

  She smiled. ‘Whipped cream?’

  ‘Hell aye. It is Friday afternoon.’

  ‘Coming up. Katya! Can you open the back room?’

  A smiling barista showed me through to a staff r
oom cum office with lockers, boxes of supplies and barely enough room for a table and chairs so battered they’d been exiled from the café. I took my coat off and sat down, then got out my phone to check my cover story.

  Poor Conrad went delirious yesterday evening, and I’m not sure he wasn’t seeing things when he convinced the Boss to come up with this scheme. Mine is not to reason why and all that.

  From today, the King’s Watch has a new cover identity: say hello to MI7. Even I could have come up with something more convincing than that. As far as the mundane government is concerned, we are a new unit dedicated to rooting out biotech companies and oligarchs who threaten national security. Would you believe that? Would the Dogged Detective, Tom Morton believe that?

  I’d asked Mina about him, and she’d said that he was posher than Conrad, and when I said that wasn’t possible, she told me his dad had just inherited a title, and one day Tom would be Baron Throckton. ‘The thing to remember about Tom Morton is this, Vicky. He comes from a rich family. He could walk away from the police any day.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘That makes him want to be the best policeman he possibly can be. Otherwise, why stay?’

  The best policeman’s girlfriend backed through the door and put a tray down. She passed me a monumental hot chocolate with a tower of chocolate-sprinkled whipped cream that had my arteries groaning in anticipation. She took an espresso for herself.

  ‘How many of those do you drink a day?’ I asked.

  ‘I try to stop at six o’clock in the evening.’ She smiled. Now that she wasn’t wrapped up against the cold, I could see she had an open face with lovely round brown eyes. Her hair was tied back in a bun that kept trying to explode.

  When she closed the door behind her, I saw a gorgeous purple bag with one corner of bright yellow piping. ‘One of your mother’s?’ I said, pointing to it.

  ‘You are well informed.’

  ‘No. I just like bags.’ Something made me blurt out, ‘I had one of the 2014 Exclusives.’

  Lucy clearly didn’t believe me. ‘Oh yes?’

  I flicked back on my phone and found one of the few pictures I’ve saved of me and Desi out on the town. She looked at it carefully. ‘Good choice.’