by Mark Hayden
‘In a state. Her bloody fiancé is a piece of work, I’ll tell you. He flat out refuses to have the ceremony in St Michael’s, and that’s why they’re off to Ellenborough Park today. It’s a beautiful place, and all that, and he’s more than paying his wack for it, but Carole’s had her heart set on walking down the aisle of St Michael’s since she was old enough to raid Mum’s wardrobe.’ He looked over the pitch towards his parents’ house. ‘Got me to be her groom whenever she caught me doing something wrong. Threatened to tell Dad unless I married her.’
‘Rachael was the same, but I was too old to be the groom. I had to give her away, and she usually married her teddy bear.’
I got the call from Mina at half past five, 23:00 in India. We were batting (badly) and no one noticed me scuttle behind the pavilion. No one except Myfanwy.
‘How is she?’ I said. The line was terrible. Those Indian call centres who keep pestering people must have special equipment.
‘She is Maamajee. She can be what she wants, and she wants most of all is to be a martyr.’
‘Is it bad?’
‘You have no idea. I don’t think she’ll let me leave India unless I take a husband home with me or she dies first. In fact, if I don’t marry, it may send her to an early grave.’
‘So it is bad.’
‘I miss you, Conrad.’
‘I miss you, too. Is she ill?’
‘Yes, but she won’t admit it. She was only out of bed for a couple of hours before she needed to rest. She’s coming downstairs again soon. Conrad, I…’
‘Yes?’
The line was dead. She WhatsApped later to say the nearest phone mast was broken. So was our batting: we were thrashed. It’s a good job you can’t relegated from Division Two.
I spent Sunday with Myfanwy because we both needed it. Ben was off with his family, and all of her other village friends were with theirs. Even Miss Parkes was being entertained by the vicar.
‘Let’s do some nets,’ I said. ‘We’ll have Mrs Clarke’s Folly to ourselves.’
It was good fun. I’m a bowler and Myfanwy bats. She’s good. We both worked up a sweat in the sun, then took a break, leaning on the big roller.
The other side of the ground is bounded by the paddock belonging to Clerkswell Manor, home of the Bloxhams. Their boy, who’s about nine, was being pulled through the field by a young golden retriever. He was far too young to be exercising a dog that energetic on his own.
Myfanwy took a bottle of water from the cooler and drained half of it before looking around. ‘There are worse prisons,’ she said.
‘On a day like this, I wouldn’t be anywhere else.’
‘Would you go to India if you could? Right now?’
The dog was definitely winning the tug of war. I hoped that someone was watching the lad.
‘Today? No. She needs this time on her own. If there’s a next time, I’ll be there if it’s the right thing.’
‘What time are you going back to base tonight?’
‘Late. There’s no rush.’
‘What’s on your programme for tomorrow?’
‘Simulators. They’ve bought a whole new fleet of training helicopters since I was last certified, so it’s back to square one for me. So long as I don’t fail any assessments, another two weeks should do it.’
We fell quiet, enjoying the sun on our backs. In the paddock, the retriever broke away from its master and made a bid for freedom.
Myfanwy bit into an apple and said, ‘I hope that dog doesn’t know about the hole in the fence.’
It did.
‘Are we going to do something?’ she asked, leaving it wide open whether or not we just stood there and had fun at the Bloxhams’ expense.
‘It’s not the dog’s fault,’ I sighed. ‘Nor the lad’s. I’ll go left, you go right.’
‘Nah. I’ve got this.’
There are a couple of flower troughs by the pavilion, bursting with poppies, nasturtiums, violas and lots I couldn’t name. Myfanwy jogged over and collected half a dozen blooms that were going to seed. I felt a tiny pulse of magick as she brushed the flowers. This was going to be interesting.
Behind her, the dog was racing round the pitch like it had never been let off the lead before. The boy was running up and down the fence in a blind panic. He was clearly too big or too scared to follow the dog through the hole.
‘Don’t let it get on the square,’ I said. ‘If it tries to dig that up, I’ll have to shoot it.’
‘Give over, Conrad, it’s too nice a day for guns. Get yourself ready.’
‘What for?’
‘You’ll see.’
She rubbed one flower on the roller, then crushed the others under her right trainer. She jogged towards the square, about half way across the pitch, then turned round and ran back to the roller. She whipped off her trainers and ran out again, barefoot.
She ran in a loop, avoiding her previous track and mystifying the dog, who’d seen her and wanted to play this new game. She circled round and drove the dog gently towards her trail. When the dog stopped to sniff, she stopped, too.
The animal wagged its tail furiously and started following the scent. Its nose barely left the ground until it got to the roller, and it – she – only looked up when I grabbed her lead.
‘Easy, girl, easy.’ She was a lovely dog. I let her lick my hand, and we were soon friends. I picked up Myvvy’s trainers and we rendezvoused by the paddock gate. The gate was locked, so I had to lift the dog over it to return her to young Bloxham. Myvvy leaned on the gate to put her trainers back on.
‘Th…thank you,’ stammered the boy. ‘Are you going to tell my mum?’
‘She’s a great dog, but she’s too strong for you, isn’t she?’
He looked at his shoes. ‘Mum says I have to take responsibility for her. Dad usually comes, but he’s not back yet.’
‘If you promise not to walk her on your own until you’re big enough, we won’t tell, will we, Myfanwy?’
‘No, we won’t. I’d take her in, now.’
‘Thank you, Mr Clarke. C’mon, Floss.’
We turned back towards the nets. ‘What did you do to those flowers? That was good.’
She blushed. ‘That’s nothing. Dognip, I call it. You just alter the scent of something that’s already aromatic to make it smell irresistible to dogs.’
‘I’m still impressed. Let’s have a few more overs before lunch. I’ve reserved a table at the Inkwell.’
‘People will talk.’
‘They’d talk if we stayed in at Elvenham.’
She started to strap on her pads. ‘It’s a bit like Paradise here, isn’t it? It’d be a lot better with Ben and Mina, obviously, but I’ll take it for now. For today.’
She picked up her bat. ‘Six overs. If I get six sixes, I get to choose from the wine list and you’re paying.’
‘And if I get you out six times, you’re paying.’
‘Deal.’
Neither of us won, and we headed back to Elvenham to get changed. ‘Same again next weekend?’ she said.
‘Haven’t you seen the forecast? The Jet Stream’s moved south. Expect rain by Thursday. Summer’s over for now, I’m afraid.’
‘You can be a gloomy sod sometimes, Conrad.’
‘I know. The Nine of Wands has been biding its time. It’s going to rear its head soon enough.’
7 — Speed Dating
The Nine of Wands first made itself felt on the day that Roberta ‘Woody’ Woodhouse walked into our mess at Shawbury and whisked me off to Yorkshire. That’s a day and a story that deserves to be told properly, so you can read about the many ghosts of Draxholt elsewhere. I’ve called it Wings over Water for reasons that will become clear. I learnt a lot about Necromancy and about other planes of existence on that mission; I learnt some more about Nimue and Madeleine, and I even learnt something about myself. Knowledge, however, always comes with a price. I did what the Nine of Wands advised and kept going.
Over in India, Min
a’s mother had gone into hospital for a procedure that might – or might not – improve her quality of life as she slipped towards the end. She didn’t want Mina to visit her, so Mina headed up to Gujarat with a cousin on her father’s side to see the other half of her family.
I was concerned, but not frantic, when the cousin messaged me on Mina’s phone a few days’ later to say that Mina was going on retreat and that she had left her phone behind.
I asked (politely) why Mina hasn’t told me herself. Because she didn’t want you to talk her out of it, said the message back from the cousin. There was an addendum a few seconds later. She loves you. Of course.
Of course. That didn’t stop me worrying, though. Worrying that something would happen to her, and worrying that she’d never come back home, a point I made to Myfanwy one night, just before the end of my time in Shawbury. I would have talked it over with Vicky, but she was emotionally drained from trying not to go mad identifying Fae Artefacts and setting magickal tests for the Candidates who wanted to join the Watch.
‘It’s a bugger, isn’t it,’ said Myfanwy.
‘It is, but I was hoping for more sympathy.’
‘Aah. Bless. What happened to your stiff upper lip?’
‘I’ll ring Ben, shall I? I’ll get more sympathy from him.’
‘Give over, man. Just remember: she had to sit in jail while you went off chasing women, now it’s your turn to wait.’
‘I didn’t chase women!’
‘I know that, but look at it from her point of view. I know Ben isn’t chasing women, but when he goes to see young farmers on business, that doesn’t stop me worrying, does it?’
I sighed. ‘Yeah. You’re right.’
‘I know I am, and I’ve got good news, too: I got the job at the shop. I start on Sunday, if Nell gets voted in as secretary. And the gardens are coming along. They should finish the hard landscaping this week. I can’t wait to start planting.’
‘Excellent.’
‘I’ve been thinking, Conrad. You should invite your family for the weekend when I’ve finished. I’d love to meet them.’
‘It’s mutual. That’s a great idea. There’s something else, while I remember. Vicky told you about the Phantom Stag and the Arden Foresters, didn’t she?’
‘Well of course.’
‘One of the Witches messaged me, and she wants to come down to Clerkswell. She fancies the cricket, and meeting a Druid. Her name’s Erin Slater. She’s an Enscriber. Can I give her your number?’
‘Ooh. Yes please. And don’t worry, I know to keep my mouth shut about Watch business.’
Warning: the next paragraph contains a lot of capital letters.
It took slightly more than two weeks, but on Tuesday 23rd of June, I got my papers stamped and a handshake from the Base CO. All I had to do was send the paperwork to the Civil Aviation Authority and I’d get my Commercial Pilot’s Licence (Helicopter).
I stowed my luggage in the car and took a moment leaning on the roof with a cigarette to enjoy the sunshine. If you’ll forgive the metaphor, I’d got through my flying hours on emotional autopilot. There had been no word from Mina at all. Nothing. And there was no one I could contact to check on her. Even Kai Ben’s occasional messages said little more than that Mina’s phone still worked and that, no, they hadn’t heard from her.
I had to go back to work, now, back to the day job with the Watch. At least I’d see Vicky tonight, and catch up, and tomorrow should be good fun. It would be a lot more fun if Mina were there. I was going to give it until the weekend, then I was going to ring Arun.
I was done with training at Shawbury, but I wasn’t done with Stores. The sergeant raised his eyebrows when he saw me again. He raised them even further when I showed him an email printout. He checked the reference number on his system and stared in disbelief. ‘Let me get this straight, sir. A colonel in the Royal Military Police, who I’ve never heard of, has sent an RAF squadron leader to collect some combat uniforms.’
‘That’s about the size of it, and talking of sizes, here they are.’
‘Eight combat uniforms? We haven’t got these, and definitely not in those women’s sizes.’
‘Have you checked all your deliveries from today?’
He opened his mouth and closed it again. ‘Just wait over there, sir, I’ll be with you in a minute.’
Yes! One last time!
I waited. He reappeared, and plonked the plastic packets on the counter. ‘I see that one of them is your size, sir. I didn’t have you down as roughing it in the mud.’
I grinned. ‘It’s the job of the RAF to show the others how to do things properly.’
‘Right enough, sir, but as to why you want seven RMP cap badges…’
I tapped my finger on my nose. ‘Let’s just say there’s going to be some revenge exacted.’
He grinned and shook my hand. ‘Good luck.’
Technically, I’m in 7 Squadron of the RAF. It’s always been my unit, and we’re best known for flying those enormous Chinook helicopters. What most people don’t know is that 7 Squadron also does the flying for special forces. When you hear that the SAS are doing something in some far flung land, it will have been one of us who flew them there. I should know, I’ve done it often enough.
The SAS mostly keep themselves to themselves, but I did get to know one of them quite well, and when he left the service, he didn’t become a consultant (or write books), he bought a farm in the Trough of Bowland, Lancashire, and built himself a boot camp. I’ll be taking the uniforms there tomorrow, but that’s tomorrow.
We could have stayed at Hartsford Hall again. I was very tempted, but said no for two reasons. First, it’s a long drive through the Forest of Bowland to get to the farm, and second, I’d have to pay for everyone. I’m not that rich.
Vicky was waiting for me in the bar of the Waddington Arms (thoroughly recommended), where we were staying. The Candidates were in various B&Bs around the area and had been told to leave us alone.
I gave Vic a long hug. There was a pint of IPA waiting for me on the bar, and she’d bagged a table outside in the evening sunshine. It was very good to see her again.
‘How are you bearing up without Mina?’ she said.
‘I’m bearing up.’
‘You must be worried about her, though.’
‘Yes.’ I think she was expecting more, but I had nothing. There comes a point in any worry when going over it doesn’t actually help. Just being with someone who understands is enough.
She nodded slowly and raised her glass. ‘To Mina. May she come back quickly.’
‘To Mina. Now, are you finally going to tell me what happened when you went to Lunar Hall?’
She grinned. ‘No.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Well, aye. I literally have no idea what happened between Francesca and Theresa, because it all happened in private. I can tell you that there was no physical violence, and that they kissed at the end. Francesca said nothing to me, so there’s no point trying to get me drunk or bribe me, ’cos I don’t know.’
‘Did you find out anything about Madeleine?’
‘Less than you did. I read Wings over Water, and you found out that she’d given herself to Nimue. All Theresa said was that the Memorial willow was already there when she joined the coven, and that it was unique.’ She shrugged. ‘Perhaps next time. Theresa did say that there isn’t really an imminent threat to Maddy’s offspring.’
‘Let’s hope she’s right. How was the mission overall?’
‘It was … different. Working with Francesca had its own challenges.’
‘So did working with Woody.’
She gave me a grin over her glass of wine. ‘You know what that makes you, doesn’t it?’
There was a cheap shot coming. I said nothing.
‘Buzz Lightyear. Good job for you that the file’s restricted, or everyone will be at it.’
Vicky and I have shared a lot. I know her pretty well, and I know when she’s not happy
underneath. ‘What’s up, Vic?’
She looked guilty for a second. Guilty that she hadn’t hidden it well enough. She stopped trying to put on a brave face and looked thoroughly depressed. ‘Get us another large merlot and I’ll tell you.’
‘Coming up.’
I went to the bar and got the drinks. She twirled the fresh glass in her hands for a moment before looking up. ‘We’ve got a big problem. There’s a spy in Salomon’s House. At a high level.’
‘I know.’
She jerked back. ‘Eh? How?’
‘The bombing. Only someone at a senior level could have planned that.’
‘Why haven’t you said?’
‘Because Hannah wouldn’t believe me, and because I wanted to catch them red-handed. I thought we’d get them at Niði’s Hall. What’s happened?’
‘When Francesca was at Merlyn’s Tower showing us that poem, on the day of Helen’s Induction, someone was in the Library taking all the Quicksilver Artefacts. You don’t have to worry about Hannah believing you now. She went ballistic.’
‘What’s been done? About the theft?’
‘Not theft. Unauthorised access, and that’s the problem. If we make it official, Francesca will carry the can. She’ll be suspended and forced out. Hannah thinks she’s the only one we can trust.’
I drained my pint and started on the second. I was inclined to agree with Hannah about the Keeper. There is no way that Francesca would be party to a bombing when her brother was going to be there. ‘Tell me, Vicky. You held Cora’s hand when she’d been speared by that piece of flying table. Was she really not wearing her Ancile?’
Cora had claimed that it was vanity that had made her go to the first ceremony without her magickal shield.
‘No. She wasn’t wearing it.’
‘Then we can trust her. Up to a point. Have you been able to eliminate any of the Fae nobles?’
‘Only three. The Queen of the Heath, the Princess of Ynys Môn and the Queen of Wye all check out. In other bad news, it’s been pointed out that the Prince of Galway is also in the frame. He made a lot of visits to Britain during the period, and he still has interests here.’
