I wouldn’t say we had convinced Inspector Rogers of our innocence. On the contrary, the way my uncle had so rationally used the children clearly displeased her. At Bryce’s order, Donald quickly formed a queue of the youngsters and had each of them draw a single shadow out of a child. Burke was even woken for the purpose. My cousin did not look pleased, like Bryan, he received no bonus at all. The prize was too small for experienced warlocks such as those two were considered to be, despite their age. Still, perhaps it would count towards the total, and next time Ferrish might reward them with something slightly better than he had planned.

  The queue by the children’s beds, together with the vicar’s remark that I had not allowed him to finish off the vampire, played a nasty trick on us.

  Thanks to Olivia Foxtrot, many in Farnell knew that I had been involved in the destruction of the Valentine nest, the fall of the Lindemann nest, and the burning of the Gratch estate. All three vampire families had since acquired new ‘parents’, though they no longer decided much in the city’s shadow world. All except the Lindemanns, now the Blairs. And those who did not have to rely solely on rumours also knew that Kate Blair, in her new role as the matriarch of a bloodsucking family, had been making every effort to maintain friendly relations with a certain overly active apprentice wizard. Working ties with vampires, something that to any Bremor man sounded like nonsense and automatically cleared us, looked like a perfectly plausible possibility in the inspector’s eyes.

  The children had not been harmed, we had protected the dame, which should, in theory, oblige her… But could it all have been staged? That would have been very much in the spirit of Lucas Lindemann, Kate’s father. I wondered whether Dame Kerry had known him. If she had, she would have had every reason to doubt us.

  The vicar was the one element that did not quite fit the scheme. For all his faults and for the greed he liked to demonstrate through his outrageous prices, he was in fact incorruptible. From those who were truly in need he would not take a penny, and he answered to no one but the Lord. I suspect it was Wood’s role in this affair that interested the dame enough for her to pull him aside without ceremony and cast a silence spell so they could whisper in private. Or perhaps what interested her were my connections with vampires. Only the vicar could give her an impartial assessment. In any case, the subject of their conversation remained a mystery.

  As for me, somewhat unexpectedly, I discovered another ability, or perhaps simply a new application of my first quick spell. Kerry had used something from the family of silence domes, which not only block sound but also blur movements inside them so that no one can read lips. Apparently I ought to learn to read them. I heard nothing, yet every movement was perfectly clear to me. They whispered for quite a while, until every warlock had taken their turn with the children.

  After the conversation the knightly lady behaved somewhat more politely, though only outwardly. At the same time Dame Kerry flatly refused to reveal the name of her informant, and the clan could not press the matter since she had begun cooperating. When it came to organising orphanages and raising troubled children, she knew more than everyone else in the room put together.

  Vicar Wood, as agreed, recited over the children a prayer full of fanatical faith. An energy that in the subtle planes resembled the white colour of the death element, yet felt nothing like any element at all. Spread through the room, it passed into the subtle bodies of every person present, ignoring all defences, and left a sensation of warmth and calm in the chest. Whatever people might say about Wood, his faith was strong and sincere.

  The children regained consciousness — all at once. There were no hysterics, no attempts to flee, not even fear. The youngsters simply opened their eyes, began to sit up, and calmly looked around at the unfamiliar people. Dame Kerry’s presence did not provoke any particular reaction, though a hint of nervousness appeared when the children began to be led out of the medical ward.

  Wood calmly accepted the money and drove back home. Dame Kerry distributed a number of valuable instructions and also departed. Harry began preparing to leave as well. I preferred to stay, but then remembered the ‘mud explosion’ and asked my teacher for a brief consultation. I described the concept of the new spell and was immediately caught by the context. Harry is no fool, he asked at once: “Digging a tunnel, are you? First that box of yours, now this…”

  It would have been foolish to deny it, so I admitted the truth but asked Harry to keep quiet. The wizard agreed, and in return asked whether he might see the tunnel. I had to find Peter, explain my blunder, and persuade the architect to cooperate. In the end it worked out to everyone’s benefit. Harry took out his marvellous book, asked for three earth Reservoir stones, and with two strokes finished the second tunnel. In exchange he received from Peter a lecture on how underground passages ought to be arranged in estates of the ‘Anvil’ type.

  I only hope that at home Harry will dig his own tunnel and not make me do it, the way Peter did.

  We spent quite a while at it, so Harry was invited to stay for dinner. Over the meal Bryce played the part of the exemplary uncle, asking about my progress and complaining about my disobedience and overconfidence. A couple of times Harry looked at me in such a way… I swear he was inventing new forms of torment which he calls training. For the next few days it might be wiser for me to claim pressing clan business and avoid going home.

  Besides Bryce, Harry, and myself, those at the table were Burke, Simon, and Albert McLal. Donald had vanished again. As Bryce whispered to me, he had found the children thanks to a tip from our pocket bandits, and considering what that discovery might conceal, it would be wise to investigate the matter further. Kerry might have refused to give us even the slightest hint about who had been feeding her those foolish ideas, but from the bandits we could obtain rather more concrete information. I would very much like to see them refuse a request after a visit to the clan’s dungeons.

  The evening itself was perfectly decent and unexpectedly calm. Only one thing troubled me, I had forgotten to tell Simon that Finella had come by. At dinner my friend was unusually quiet, as if sunk in some thoughtful melancholy. He did not utter a single word all evening, cracked none of his ridiculous jokes, and even refused alcohol. That was worrying enough that, after seeing Harry and Knuckles home, I headed to the baronet’s temporary apartments.

  Simon lay on the bed in his suit and boots, arms spread wide, staring at the ceiling.

  “Meditating?” I asked.

  “Thinking about life.”

  “A very thankless, and sometimes extremely harmful, occupation,” I said.

  “You see,” Simon propped himself up on his elbows and declared with profound grievance in his voice, “I know what to do when I feel miserable. But after what you said yesterday, I don’t feel like drinking, or even hiring an expensive prostitute! And that’s very bad. I’m losing my sanity!”

  “I disagree,” I said. “You lost it the moment you climbed into bed with Finella.”

  Simon gave a faint smile.

  “In fairness, it should be noted that the bed in which we first made love belonged to you.”

  “And I’ve never forgiven you for that!” I said. His smile became a little more genuine. I sighed and confessed. “She came by.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Finella?!” Simon sat up at once, suddenly animated. “Was she looking for me?”

  I shook my head, which disappointed him somewhat, and continued my confession.

  “Not exactly. She came to apologise to me. James made her. Only I was still angry with her, and your name came up…”

  “And what did you do?”

  “Well… I slightly, just a little, mixed up a few facts. I didn’t lie exactly. I simply remembered certain things from yesterday, left out a few others, made a theoretical assumption…”

  “Duncan!” Simon’s fists clenched. I could almost hear the crackle of electricity.

  “In short, I reminded her that she’d broken up with you yesterday and suggested that you had…

  “She did say, by the way, that she had simply spoken more sharply than she meant to and hadn’t actually intended anything of the sort…”

  “Duncan! Suggested what?!”

  “That you’d gone on a bit of a spree.”

  “And she?”

  “She went to your place.” I looked away and decided not to mention that I had personally directed her there.

  “Fucking hell, Duncan!”

  “Hey, mind your language.”

  “That was me minding it!” Simon snapped. He took a few steps towards the window, turned back to the bed, then to the window again… He seemed to reach a decision, nodded to himself, and said, “Thanks for the hospitality. I’m off.”

  “Home? I doubt she’s still there.”

  “Home,” Simon confirmed. “To Finella’s home.”

  “That is not the best idea,” I objected. “James will roast you to a crisp.”

  “He won’t. He’s not as foolish or bloodthirsty as he likes to appear. Though he does know how to frighten people, I’ll grant him that.”

  “Perhaps I should come with you?”

  “Bryan will go with me. He promised to settle the matter with the girls anyway.”

  “If anything happens, tell them I know where you went. It’ll look suspicious if you don’t come back. And call me once you’ve sorted things out.”

  “Of course.”

  Simon went off to find Bryan, while I returned to my room, picking up the same wretched mood the baronet Kettle had been in a few minutes earlier. At least he had made some sort of decision and set about carrying it out. I, on the other hand, still had no idea what to do about Ellie. Not that I had been trying particularly hard. I had simply shown cowardice and shamefully hidden the unpleasant thoughts behind everyday concerns. But Simon had brought them back, and now it was my turn to lie on the bed staring blankly at the ceiling, until someone knocked at the door.

  At least it was a distraction.

  I got up and opened it.

  “Finella?!”

  Lady Flower looked dreadful. Instead of the hot-headed red-haired fury I was used to seeing, there stood a drooping girl with red eyes and poorly wiped streaks of mascara across her cheeks. Anxiety cut through my chest like a knife.

  “What happened?” I cried.

  “I couldn’t find him,” the girl sobbed and burst into tears.

  It took me a second to understand what she meant, feel the shame for what I’d done, and spit furiously onto the floor.

  “Damn it, you scared me!”

  “I… I couldn’t find him!” Finella wailed, trying to speak through the tears.

  I pulled the girl into the room, hoping the soundproofing would muffle the cries and keep curious clan members from gathering outside my door. Spark did not resist. All her attention was fixed on forcing out a question. The words broke apart in sobs and came slowly.

  “Do you know where he is? Tell me!”

  “Stop crying first,” I said.

  Finella fell silent, wiped her face with a handkerchief, smearing the mascara further as she caught another wave of tears and tried to force the sobbing back down. It didn’t work very well. She was shaking, and the loudest sobs escaped through her closed mouth as stifled hiccups. Her big puppy-like eyes were full of hope.

  But this was Finella. Crying now — throwing fireballs in a minute. And frankly she had reason. Since morning she had probably worked herself into a state, and perhaps already caused some chaos along the way. If she said she couldn’t find him, then she must have been looking. I could easily imagine where and how. Damn it, if something had burned down somewhere, I would probably have to pay half the compensation myself. How much could a brothel cost? That depended on the neighbourhood.

  “Du-uncan,” the redhead whimpered pitifully. “Where’s Si-imon?”

  “Right. Promise you won’t go berserk. No fireballs, and no smashing the place to pieces.”

  “I wo-on’t! I’m guil-ty. I deserve it!”

  Yes, she deserved it, I agreed with that. Let her feel what it was like to be in my place!

  What sort of thoughts were those? Duncan Magnus Kinkaid — aren’t you ashamed? Look what you’ve done to the girl, you brute.

  “Finny,” I said, gently taking her by the elbow and sitting her down on the bed. Right… jumping out of the window would be quite a drop. I should have left the door open. Should I raise a shield now, or wait to see how she reacts? “You’ve been far too hot-tempered lately. Try to keep yourself under control.”

  “He’s in a brothel, isn’t he?” The girl’s voice and eyes filled with oceans of misery. I realised that if I dragged this out even a minute longer, she would imagine such horrors for herself that Simon would have every right to thrash me the way I had thrashed Bryan yesterday, if not worse. Only McLilly had regeneration. I did not.

  “Finny,” I continued as gently as I could.

  “It’s my fault, isn’t it?” she interrupted. “But I love him!” Finella wailed again, burst into tears, sprang from the bed and threw her arms around me, sobbing straight into my waistcoat.

  That was it. I was finished. If she started firing beams of flame now, she’d slice me in half like butter.

  “It’s all right!” I assured her, trying to free myself from the unexpectedly strong embrace. “He’s not in a brothel.”

  Finella pulled back on her own. Hope flashed in her eyes.

  “He’s just… drinking somewhere, isn’t he?”

  “Sober as a judge.”

  Finella looked me straight in the eye, and burst into tears again. This time she didn’t try to hug me, she simply sat down on the bed and declared with certainty that I was lying, because I myself had said that morning Simon had suggested we go drinking and chasing women. I tried to assure her that it had gone no further than words, that everything I said was the truth, and only frightened her even more. For a moment the grief-stricken lover vanished and the dangerous red-haired fury flashed through.

  “What, has he already picked someone up?” the fury demanded. But the mask slipped quickly, and Finella began wailing again that it was all her fault.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, will you shut up for one minute and let me speak!” I barked. “Your precious Simon is perfectly fine: he hasn’t been drinking, he hasn’t been smoking, and he hasn’t been chasing women. He spent the night here, in the room next to mine. He left for your place half an hour ago. So pull yourself together and go home.”

  Finella fell silent, stared at me with wide round eyes, and gave a couple of surprised hiccups. Just to be safe I activated Stone Flesh, but no one seemed eager to kill me, so I hurried to explain myself.

  “You’ve been completely off the leash lately. From one extreme to the other! I was angry about what you said to Ellie. I wasn’t even in that club. It was Bryan wearing my face so he could leak information to that journalist who’d been writing nonsense about me. Anyway, I deliberately frightened you this morning.”

  Finella stared at me without blinking for a couple of minutes, digesting what I had said.

  “Idiot,” she concluded.

  “Fool,” I replied. “Your own fault.”

  “I’m not a fool. I’m pregnant.”

  “What do you mean?!” Now it was my turn to stare at her.

  “When a boy and a girl love each other,” Finella began explaining sarcastically, slipping back into her usual hot-tempered manner.

  “Oh, shat up!” I snapped. “Then what the devil were you doing wandering around clubs?”

  “I only found out yesterday,” Finella said, blowing her nose into her handkerchief. “James performed a deep examination of my subtle body and noticed the changes. Nearly killed me. Then he was delighted. Then he threatened to kill Simon, but he calmed down.”

  Well, that was news. Though Ellie had been behaving rather strangely lately as well…

  What nonsense! I don’t believe in immaculate conception. And perhaps it’s just as well Ellie and I never slept together. Definitely just as well. I’m far too young for children! Cap and Knuckles are quite enough for me. At least those two don’t need nappies changing. The younger one feeds the entire Anvil, and the older one has a machine gun.

  “Duncan! Hey!” Finella waved her hand in front of my eyes. “You look as though it wasn’t me but Ellie who got pregnant. Have you two settled your differences?” Finella almost guessed my thoughts.

  “No. We didn’t sleep together.”

  “Sorry about her,” Finella said contritely. “I’ll explain everything to her. You could have told me straight away it was Bryan.”

  “How was I supposed to know? You were being very emotional, but not exactly clear.”

  And why had she believed it so easily in the first place? Could it be that, just once, those unstable emotions had swung in my direction?

  “I’m sorry again,” the girl said. “Could you give me a lift home? I’ve spent a fortune on taxis today. And I doubt the cab that brought me here is still outside. James is probably worried, and besides…”

  “Simon!” I jumped to my feet. “James wouldn’t…”

  A spark of alarm flashed in Finella’s tearful eyes.

  “He shouldn’t. But I’d rather get home as quickly as possible.”

  I grabbed my satchel, the keys to the Cooper, and said,

  “Let’s go.”