by Mark Hayden
‘I was gutted,’ said Vicky when we met up. ‘I’d put me beret on a stick and put a Glamour on it to look like me, and I was hoping one of them would fall for it. What do you reckon to them, then?’
‘Number 1 is a liability. She’s not going to make it. It’s too close to call between the others. One more test.’
‘This soup is gorgeous. And the bread. What test?’
‘It’s your turn to be shot at. Possibly.’
She looked worried. ‘Do I have to take my Ancile off?’
‘No. That’s the point. You’re going to wait in the changing room. Lester’s going to give them all paintball guns and put them in the briefing room. I’m going to call them into the office, one by one, and tell them that you’re a traitor, and they have to shoot you. When they come in, pretend that I’ve got your Ancile and react accordingly. It’s a moral test.’
Vicky looked alarmed. And worried. ‘Was this your idea?’
‘Yes. Let’s see how they get on.
As part of the test, I showed them an Artefact and said that it was Captain Robson’s Ancile, so they’d think she was defenceless. We weren’t planning to put Number 1 through this test, and started with Number 4.
‘You what?’ he said.
‘I’m afraid so.’
He peeled his bib off and said, ‘No way. I’m done. I’m not joining an organisation with a shoot to kill policy.’
‘Good. You’ve just passed. Well done. Put your bib back on and go through that door to the kitchen. Wait there and don’t talk to the others.’
He looked bemused, but put his bib back on and left.
Number 2 went into the changing room and shot at Vicky. Oh dear.
Both Numbers 5 and 6 took a different approach. Instead of shooting Vicky, they tied her up at gun point and got their phones out to call the Constable. Full marks to both of them.
‘We won’t mess around,’ I announced to the group a few minutes later. A minibus had arrived and was waiting in the yard. All their combat uniforms were in the laundry bin and we’d let them sit down.
Numbers 1 and 2 were already in the bus. Number 2 had been full of apologies and said that it, ‘wasn’t like me. I’m not a violent person. I must be exhausted.’ Number 1 had sniffed and said that she had no intention of taking up the post anyway. I just smiled.
That left us with Numbers 4, 5 and 6, or Andy, Saffron and Xavier, as I’d learnt to call them before the moral test. They all looked utterly shattered. ‘If you’re no longer interested in joining the Watch, please leave now, with my thanks for your time and effort. A glowing reference will appear on your file. Are you still up for it?’
‘I am,’ said Saffron.
‘Me too,’ said Andy.
Xavier nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then you’ve all passed. You’re all eligible. Andy, you’re going on the reserve list. Saffron, Xavier, on behalf of the Constable and the Duke of Albion, I would like to offer you commissions in the King’s Watch as Watch Officers, starting at the rank of lieutenant.’
The emotion got the better of them. As it should. They’d all given everything today. We let them hug it out before holding a brief ceremony. Vicky gave her beret to Andy as a souvenir, to show he’d made the grade, and then I presented Saffron and Xavier with their own RMP headgear. Xavier saluted, and the others joined in.
‘The good news,’ I said, ‘is that you only have to salute and call me sir when we’re in uniform. The bad news is that your duties start today. You two have to take that bin of filthy uniforms with you on the train and wash them. Take the spares, neatly pressed, to Merlyn’s Tower when you’re summoned for Induction. That will be soon, and will come from the Constable’s office. Until then, you’re dismissed and have my permission to celebrate in whatever way you like.’
Lester made one final appearance, and there were final handshakes before Vicky and I headed into the afternoon sunshine. ‘Could you drive the first section?’ I said. ‘My leg’s playing up.’
‘No problem,’ said Vicky, and we climbed into my trusty Volvo.
‘Set course for Merlyn’s Tower?’ she asked.
‘Ribblegate Farm first. I need to make sure Scout’s Lux levels are topped up. We also need somewhere to get changed. It’s against regs to appear at motorway service stations in uniform.’
8 — Welcome Home
‘So who gets to choose?’ I said. ‘Who decides which one of the new recruits gets landed with me?’
‘The Boss,’ said Vicky firmly. ‘She was quite clear that she would make the allocations, but it’s fairly clear that Saffron will be stuck with you. Poor lass.’
‘Why?’
‘She’s the better Mage. It’s as simple as that. Xavi – Xavier Metcalfe – studied for one year with the last Guardian and was highly rated. Since the Guardian left, he’s switched to studying with the Oracle, with focus on Necromancy with a sideline in Occulting. And we were pronouncing his name wrong. He finally had the courage to tell me it’s Zavvy not Havvy. He’s not bad, but Saffron has real promise.’
‘She seems very driven. Did you know her when you were at Salomon’s House?’
‘A bit. She’s more of Desi’s friend than mine. Have you come across the Hawkins family before?’
I pulled my lip and sifted through some of the background reading. ‘There was a Hawkins who was Constable in the Edwardian period. And there’s one on the Occult Council. Is she related?’
‘Aye. Hawkins is one of the older Mage families, and one of the first to adopt Prima Materna for their name.’
It’s been known for a long time that aptitude for magick passes through the female line. When women were first admitted to the Invisible College, one of the more forward thinking Mages suggested that magickal families should take their surname from the Prima Materna – the first mother of the line. There are complications, though, as I was about to discover.
‘You should know that she’s also related to the Custodian.’
‘Oh.’ The Custodian of the Great Work is Heidi Marston, the larger than life senior Artificer at Salomon’s House. ‘Is Saffron one of Heidi’s Gang?’
‘Only by default. She’s tried to get ahead on her own merits. Sometimes she tries too hard. She’s a very good Artificer, though.’
Heidi knows that old magick is on the loose, but she hasn’t been directly involved in our campaign to track it down. ‘How closely are they related?’ I asked.
‘Not that close. Heidi’s mother had no gift to speak of, and she took her husband’s name. Heidi has the right to call herself Hawkins.’
‘But Heidi likes to stand out.’
‘That she does.’
I shifted in my seat. I really wanted to stretch my leg out, but even the Volvo won’t quite let me do that unless I put the seat right down. ‘You’ve seen her a lot more than I have, Vic. Is there anything I should know?’
We were stationary at some traffic lights. We’d be at Ribblegate Farm in ten minutes or so. Vicky drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. ‘I don’t know. They all asked a lot about you. What you were like to work with. Stuff they had every right to know.’
She paused, and I was dying to ask what she’d told them. Somehow, I resisted.
After some thought, Vicky said, ‘She’s good, but she’s not always as good as she thinks she is. Watch out for that.’
‘Thanks, Vic. That’s good to know.’
She looked at me sideways. ‘Saffron asked if you had a girlfriend. When I said yes, she said, “Thank goodness.” You can make of that what you will. Oh, and I asked all of them if they played cricket or supported Sunderland. No on all counts.’
I did of course have another reason to visit Ribblegate Farm. I hadn’t forgotten about Stacey while I was in Shawbury, and after Mina dropped off the grid, I’d asked for regular updates. It had been three weeks since we’d left Stacey with the Kirkhams; she’d lasted two weeks before Steroid Boy turned up in the farmyard to take her away. Kelly had said she’d
fill me in when we met up.
I got changed and went to see Scout. He had grown a lot, and I’m sure I saw a glint in his eye. That dog is going to be trouble. He’s still gorgeous though. Vicky took a lot longer to get changed (I’m just stating a fact), and Kelly came over to see me in the yard.
‘I hate to say this,’ said Kelly, ‘but it really was down to social media. She just couldn’t stay off it. Mina helped her create new identities and all that, but she gave too much away, and the next thing you know, he’s tracked her down.’
‘How was she?’
It was cooler in the shade of the barn, and Kelly wrapped her oversized cardigan round her. ‘Stronger, I think. She really wanted to get a job, you know, but all the ones she fancied needed a criminal record check. She wouldn’t even apply.’
‘What happened?’
Kelly snorted. ‘He messaged her, and she called him. We sat up late over a bottle of wine, and I tried talking her out of going with him, but she’s convinced that he’s changed. How many times have we heard that?’ She looked at the farmhouse. ‘Perhaps, if she’s stronger, he might not try it on quite so much. Perhaps she’ll walk away this time. You know what he did?’
‘No.’
‘The next day, after he took her away, he was back. Wanted the five hundred quid I’d held on to. The one good thing I did was get her a bank account of her own. I transferred it to her. She must have told him I’d hung on to it.’
‘Was he violent?’
‘Joseph saw him coming.’ That’s Kelly’s father in law. ‘When the useless lump came into the kitchen, Joseph was cleaning his shotgun at the table. I said I’d transferred the money back to Mina to stop him getting his hands on it, and he didn’t argue.’
‘Shame. Thank you so much for everything you did.’
‘Conrad, what do you think…’
She was going to ask about Mina, and then she saw the look on my face and turned round. Vicky, now resplendent in skinny jeans and a black top, was walking barefoot over the farmyard. Not even I would do that. She was also holding her phone and looking ill. I gave Scout one last tickle and hurried over to meet her, Kelly right behind me.
‘It’s Mina,’ said Vicky. ‘She’s on her way back. We need to get a move on.’
‘I’ll get your stuff,’ said Kelly.
‘What’s happened?’ I asked. The question I really wanted to ask was how come you heard this first?
‘The Boss has been on the phone. It’s complicated. Mina’s been hurt, somehow. It’s not serious or nothing, but she’s been in trouble.’
‘Trouble?’
‘Aye.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘We have to get to Heathrow. There’s enough time before the flight lands. The Boss got a call from the Foreign Office when Mina’s plane left India.’
‘Eh?’
‘I know. What’s the GoI?’
I wanted to scream get on with it. ‘The GoI is the Government of India. The federal government, if you like.’
‘Right. The GoI called the Foreign Office to say that Mina was being stripped of her Indian citizenship and deported. They said that the GoI agent accompanying her on the flight would only hand her over to the Constable.’
‘What in Nimue’s name is that all about? That can only mean that she’s been in magickal trouble.’
Kelly appeared with Vicky’s uniform over her arm and her trainers in her hand. In the other hand, I was pleased to see a flask. I lit a cigarette while Vicky hopped about putting her shoes on. It was a good job it hadn’t rained recently.
Kelly pressed the flask into my hand, along with a packet of Jaffa Cakes. ‘Let me know, yeah? When you get a chance.’
‘Of course. I’ll be back soon for Scout anyway, but I’ll tell you what I can when I can.’
‘Thanks, Conrad.’
‘Was there nothing else?’ I asked when we drove out, thinking that Vicky might have something to tell me that was not for mundane ears.
‘No. Air India, Terminal 2, 21:35. That’s all they said. The accompanying agent has her phone, too. And that’s it. I’m so sorry, Conrad.’
‘But she’s alive and not seriously injured.’
‘That’s what they said. You know Hannah, she wasn’t gonna take that for an answer. She said she pushed and pushed but the Foreign Office didn’t have anything else.’
I calculated the flight time in my head. ‘She must have heard a few hours ago.’
‘She did. She’s been trying to work her contacts in Whitehall and India, but no one knows anything. She was on the verge of calling you when I buzzed her to say the assessment was done. She says, and I quote, “I know he’ll be mad I told you first, Vicky, but I don’t want him driving off and leaving you.” I told her you wouldn’t have done that.’
‘I wouldn’t.’
She tried a smile. ‘Do you know what she said next? “I know that, but he might well charge into the ladies’ toilets and drag you kicking and screaming out of the cubicle.” I think she has a point.’
‘I think she does.’
Getting to where we wanted to be at Heathrow Airport was a little like being talked down to a strange landing strip by air traffic control. Ruth Kaplan, Hannah’s twin sister, was on the phone, guiding me through a series of vehicle check points until we passed the last one and I saw her standing outside a low building in her police inspector’s uniform. Handy. She’d already said that Hannah was waiting inside.
A sign on the building said UK Border Force. It wasn’t a police station, but it felt very much like one as Ruth got us issued with Visitor badges and taken through security. It was starting to wind down at the end of a long day, and I saw sweaty Border Force employees hanging up their uniforms and getting ready to go home. The British government is not generous when it comes to air conditioning, and it was like a sauna in here.
Ruth had been trusted with a magnetic key, and ushered us into a room marked Interview Room Six Viewing Gallery. High Security. I immediately looked for the two-way mirror. It must be behind the closed blinds. There were unlit monitors and silent recording equipment on a desk built against the same wall. And four chairs. None of us made a move to sit down.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Ruth. ‘I really am, but Hannah gave me this. These.’
She handed over two pieces of paper. One was an email printout and the other was a handwritten note from the Boss. Give Ruth your case. Don’t argue. Leave this to me.
The case contained the Hammer and its mundane twin. I had spent all day trying to select new Watch Officers who would be part of the solution, and it would be hypocritical of me to disobey a direct order. I passed Ruth the case. She looked very relieved and disappeared out of the door.
‘Keep it together, Uncle C,’ said Vicky. ‘Not long now. She’ll be over London, I reckon.’
‘This must be the only part of the airport without information screens. Did I see one in the foyer?’
‘I’ll go one better,’ she replied, and got out her phone.
While she was searching for the information, I glanced at the printout. The header information had been cropped off, leaving just the message.
Our agent will hand over the prisoner only to the Constable of the United Kingdom. This must be done in a secure room with no one else present and with an exit to the return flight that must remain open and unlocked at all times.
I put the paper down. I was so tempted to go in search of the plane that I nearly walked out. The only thing that stopped me was that Niði’s labyrinth is easier to navigate than the airside of an international airport. Mina would be in that room before I even found the way to the gates.
‘Wheels down in ten minutes,’ said Vicky.
‘Thanks.’
The door opened, and Ruth backed in, carrying a tray. I went to help her and came face to face with Cora Hardisty.
‘Dean? What…?’
Vicky took the tray and we all moved away from the door. Cora was looking as dishevelled as the Border Force guards: her linen suit
probably looked great first thing this morning. At least she was walking rather than being pushed round in a wheelchair.
She had tears forming in her eyes. She leaned forwards and picked up my hands. Her fingers were hot and slippery against mine. ‘I am so sorry, Conrad. So sorry. This is my fault.’
‘How???’
‘Sit down. Both of you,’ said Ruth. She pushed a chair into Cora’s legs and she collapsed gratefully. I took a seat next to her. She did not want to let go of my hand. Vicky and Ruth gave us some space. A tiny part of me was glad that Vicky looked as puzzled as I felt.
‘Do you remember the Dragon seminar?’ said Cora. I nodded. ‘When you went for a fag break, Mina wasn’t talking about Project Midas. She was pumping me for information about magick in India.’
Vicky drew a sharp breath. I gripped Cora’s hands even harder. ‘And you told her? And you didn’t tell me?’
She shook her head. ‘You don’t own her, Conrad, and she made me promise. That’s the point. She’s scared of losing you.’
I…
I didn’t know what to think. Somewhere inside my head was a man scrabbling to get hold of a cliff edge before he slipped down to the crashing waves and the needle rocks below him. I couldn’t get any purchase on this idea at all, until I thought of Miles. Of course.
My shoulders slumped. ‘You know. About her husband.’
‘Husband?’ said Cora.
I let go of one of Cora’s hands to wipe my eyes.
I heard Vicky whispering over my head. ‘He died. Violently.’
‘No, no, no,’ said Cora. ‘That’s not what she meant. She worries about you being in danger, obviously, but that’s not why she wanted the information.’
I turned to look at Vicky. Before I could protest my innocence, Vicky said, ‘And she doesn’t mean losing you to other women, either. Tell him properly, Cora.’
