A Clockwork Heart (16 page)

CHAPTER 20

“Such a tragedy. My poor Hugh,” Loisa mused as she sipped her tea. They were sitting by the fire in the small drawing room after dinner.

Marsh was sleeping in the cot they had set up for him in the library next door. After the visit by the doctor, the professor had managed to modify the muzzle by fitting a release latch. They could at least now open and close it in order to feed him, if they were very careful.

Marsh had, true to Loisas recommendations, consumed almost two pounds of raw liver once they had brought him under control. Elle was grateful that she did not have to witness him feeding because it was, by all accounts, a rather grim event.

Mrs. Hinges had looked tired and drawn when Elle had found her in the kitchens earlier that evening. The strain of looking after a Nightwalker and a master who was hovering between the living and the dead was starting to show.

And outside, the rain whooshed against the windowpanes with relentless monotony. A storm had rolled in during the late afternoon, complete with more thunder and lightning. It was truly the type of dark and stormy night so favored by writers of melodramatic prose.

Elle looked up from the evening paper and set down the magnifying glass she had been using to examine one of the photographs on the page. The headline that had drawn her attention read:
MYSTERIOUS
TICKING
MONSTERS
SIGHTED
IN
HYDE
PARK
.

“We found him near the docks, so let's see if we can pick up a trail from there. Enough people have seen these Tickers to make it into the evening papers. Surely someone would have seen which direction they went.”

“In this weather?” Loisa looked at the windows. “We'd be lucky not to lose ourselves out there, let alone find some unknown enemy.”

Elle sighed. “Loisa, I can't just sit here and do nothing. Every minute we sit here is a minute wasted.” She felt her breath catch in her chest. “At the very least, we need to find the key that winds up that thing in his chest. Surely they must go somewhere when the sun comes up? And I'm willing to bet that we will find the keys and the answers to this mystery there.”

Loisa nodded slowly. “This seems to me to be the work of a necromancer.”

“Conjuring of the dead.” Elle nodded gravely. “That seems logical, but how does this help us?”

Loisa shrugged. “At least we have an idea of what we are searching for. But finding a necromancer's lair is easier said than done. And even if we did find it, how would we go about approaching it? It's not like we will be invited for tea and cakes upon our arrival, no?”

“I don't care,” Elle said. “I am not going to let him die, Loisa. I will not.”

Loisa's expression softened. “None of us want him to die. I know you love him, my darling. But we need to be clever about this. Taking on a necromancer is not something one attempts lightly. Personally, I don't mind so much. I have less to lose than you do. But you might well end up as one of these ticking things. And that is not something we can afford,
Madame
Oracle
.”

Elle looked up at the ceiling in frustration. “And somehow we always end up back at the infernal business of being the Oracle. Some days I wish I could just tear down the barrier that separates the two realms and be done with it.”

Loisa smiled. “And so would all the Shadow creatures, but we both know that this is not something that can be. Too much chaos. And you will have the blood on your hands of all those who will die. But while we are speaking of it, how fares the great divide?”

Elle stared out the window into the darkness. “The barrier is fine. I have sensed a few odd wobbles lately, but nothing too serious.”

“Odd wobbles?”

“I don't know. Like someone was prodding the barrier. Sometimes people or creatures attempt to cross and mostly the effect is the same as running headfirst into a large, very firmly set jelly pudding. Whoever tries it, simply bounces back. I feel the impact because I am the force that holds it all together. But these wobbles were different though. They felt a bit like someone was pushing into the folds—as I can do.”

The two pretty pink spots on Loisa's pale cheeks faded. “Do you think there is another oracle?”

“I doubt it. The Council of Warlocks would have found her by now. Trust me: nothing would make them happier than to find someone else to fill that position.” Elle gave a cynical laugh “I would have been swiftly relieved of my duties by now if there was someone else.”

“Perhaps someone who would be capable of assuming the powers of the Oracle?”

Elle shrugged. “I honestly don't know. But I very much doubt it.”

“True. I know of nothing written that suggests that other creatures of Shadow or Light for that matter could break the barrier. But still.”

Elle sat forward. “Do you think a necromancer could?”

Loisa shrugged. “I am not a scholar. My knowledge is very limited, but I don't see how.”

“Perhaps we might go and see someone who could help,” Elle said. “Do you know any occult scholars who might know?”

Loisa sat back and thought for a while. “We could try one of the sectarians, but they have their spies and I'm not so sure that we want the Council of Warlocks to know about Hugh. Who knows what they might do if they found out.”

Elle shivered. As usual Loisa had hit the nail squarely on the head. Marsh was her only protection against the nefarious plans the Council had for her. These included, among other things, a scheme to lock her up in a cave while they drained power through her until she died. If they knew Marsh was indisposed, or dead for that matter, they might decide to take action. And that would be a very bad thing indeed.

“You are right, Loisa. That is a bad idea.”

“Hold on a moment.” Loisa gave her a sly smile. “What about our new friend, Jasper Sidgwick?”

“Do you think we can trust him?” Elle felt her excitement grow.

Loisa shrugged. “I don't know. But he is a hopelessly ineffectual occultist with a magnificent collection of books. I had the pleasure of listening to him recount the catalogue all the way from Leadenhall to his house yesterday.”

“And you think he might have something?”

“Undoubtedly. And yet he seems to know nothing of the Council. It is quite extraordinary that someone so educated could be so ignorant.” She sat forward, suddenly enthusiastic. “Perhaps we should pay him a call. He did after all invite us to one of his meetings.”

“I think that is exactly what we should do,” Elle said. She stood up and straightened her skirts. “I think, my dear Baroness, that we should go and change into our night visiting clothes. Immediately.”

Half an hour later, the Stanley, steam powered automobile that was Lord Greychester's pride and joy, trundled off, buffeted by the strong wing and icy rain. Elle drove and Loisa navigated. This was perhaps not the most efficient system, given that the Nightwalker did not know London all that well, but she was an even worse driver so it was the best they could do. At least Loisa could see in the dark and so they managed all right. The trees waved and shuddered in the wind as they made their way through Green Park and down the Mall.

“Good thing we have the car,” Elle said over the noise of the engine and the storm. “Horses would have been impossible on a night like this.”

“I think you are right,” Loisa said, as she held onto her top hat to stop it from blowing off. They were both wearing goggles to keep the wind and rain out of their eyes.

“The tavern is below the Savoy Hotel. I have stayed at the Savoy on countless occasions and I never thought to look in on it. Just to the left,” Loisa said.

Elle turned the steering and they trundled down the Strand toward the hotel. Apart from the odd hurrying straggler, the streets were empty. It was strange to see the streets of London so quiet and deserted.

“See if you can find somewhere close by for us to park,” Elle said. Finding parking in the West End was always a veritable nightmare, even at this time of night.

Fortunately, Loisa spotted a folly of plane trees near the Embankment gardens. Elle cast a wary eye over the Stanley as she pulled up underneath them. Curse Marsh for his vanity. The white paintwork and chromed rivets gleamed even in this bad light. Could the man not have chosen a black automobile like every other normal person? Elle hoped against hope that the motor would not be too conspicuous and that it would be safe and unharmed when they got back.

“The pub. It's this way.” Loisa dragged Elle by the arm up the little hill behind the Savoy Hotel. They stopped outside a door with a heavy brass knocker that looked like the head of a wolf under the flickering streetlights.

“This must be it.” Loisa lifted the knocker and banged on the door six times.

A small peephole opened and someone on the other side studied them.

“The wolf howls not only when the moon is full,” Loisa drawled. “Jasper told me the password last night,” she explained.

The peephole closed and Elle heard the bolts slide open.

A man dressed in shirtsleeves let them in. His gaze flickered over Elle's leather coat and jodhpurs for a moment, but he said nothing. Elle shook the water off her sleeves and took off her aviator cap and goggles. They had done a remarkable job in keeping her hair dry.

“State your business,” the man grunted.

Surreptitiously, Elle clenched her elbow to her side. Her revolver was sitting safely in its corset holster, ready for action.

“Is Jasper Sidgwick here this evening?” Loisa inquired.

The doorman huffed. “Downstairs. You'll find him in the cellar. You're late.”

“Thank you.” Loisa gave him one of her alluring smiles, but it seemed to have no effect on the doorman. He did, however, shuffle aside to let them pass.

They climbed a set of narrow stairs that led down to what Elle assumed to be the cellar. Above her, she noted the heavy black beams that made up the floor the pub above them. The sound of punters talking over the noise of the piano sifted down through the boards.

“Sounds like a jolly establishment,” Elle said.

They reached a set of black doors, ornately decorated with all kinds of esoteric symbols. Inside was the low hum of voices singing a solemn hymn. The sound of the occultists' voices was out of tune with the jolly celebrations that were going on upstairs.

Loisa lifted the latch and pushed it open. “Jasper! Are you here?” she called out in her deep musical voice. “Just play along and for heaven's sake, don't do anything magical that might give us away,” she whispered to Elle as they entered the cellar.

Elle gave her a sardonic smile. Attending an occultist meeting was just about the last thing she wanted to do, but if needs must then they certainly must.

CHAPTER 21

The singing stopped rather abruptly when they entered the cellar. Elle and Loisa turned to face a congregation of about eight people all sitting on benches in a circle.

Jasper was standing in the middle of the room dressed in rather fetching velvet robes of emerald green. His jovial round face lit up when he saw them. “Ladies! Welcome to our humble society,” he beamed.

There was a murmur of agreement from the others in the room. The inside of the cellar was lit by a multitude of candles wedged into every crevice and sconce. Large stalactites of wax hung from the walls and candelabras. The cellar looked like it hailed from the days before spark had replaced coal, the fine dust had stained the walls pitch black. Even Elle had to admit that it was the perfect place to hold occult meetings.

“Jasper! Thank you for inviting us,” Loisa cooed.

“Sorry we're late. Terrible weather,” Elle said in an attempt to be polite. She stepped forward and immediately hesitated, balancing her weight on the toes. The tips of her boots were on the edge of a Delphic circle, inlaid entirely in a black and white pattern. She grabbed Loisa's arm and looked at the floor.

“Careful,” Loisa murmured as she steered Elle around the edge with her supernatural strength.

“This is certainly a surprise. You are most welcome,” Jasper said. “Do sit down. We have just started.” He gestured for them to sit on the benches.

He resumed his position in the center of the room and the singing resumed.

Elle rolled her eyes as she mumbled along in tune to the music, hoping against hope that this would be over quickly, for she could feel time ticking away for Marsh with every beat of her heart.

“All right then, everyone. If you could please join hands, we will begin with our séance,” Jasper said.

Elle and Loisa joined hands with the other eight people in the room.

“We call on the spirits of the departed to cross the divide between living and dead,” Jasper said, rather dramatically.

“We call on the spirits,” the others murmured.

Elle bit her lip. She had her very own set of ghosts who spoke to her on regular occasions. And judging by their recent persistent silence, she was sure they were none too pleased with her imposing a ban on them at the moment. Elle just hoped they wouldn't do something embarrassing or too revealing, but judging by the potency of the séance she was witnessing, Jasper would be lucky if he managed to conjured up the spirit of a dead mouse, let alone a former oracle.

“Is someone there?” Jasper turned his face to one side as if he was listening for something. “We ask that the spirit who has come forward, please make itself known to us,” he murmured.

“We ask this,” the others murmured.

There was a brief, breathless moment where it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. All the candles went out and they were plunged into darkness.

More than one of the ladies present let out a little cry of surprise.

“Maintain the circle please,” Jasper warned. Elle felt her fingers go numb as the woman next to her gripped her hand with fervor.

Elle sighed. Please spirits of the oracle, not now. I really don't want to have to explain myself to these good people, she prayed silently.

“I am getting a name!” Jasper said in the dark. “Vivienne!”

Elle sat up straight. Vivienne was the name of her late mother. Her mother had been the Oracle before her, but she had died when Elle had been very young.

“Vivienne. Thank you for joining us,” the others murmured.

“She says that her daughter is here. Is there a daughter of a Vivienne present?” Jasper asked.

“Yes,” Elle mumbled, hoping that no one would recognize her voice in the dark.

“What would you like to say to your daughter, Vivienne?” Jasper asked. “Use me as your vessel to communicate. You are in a circle of safety here.”

Suddenly, Jasper's voice changed. It became higher, more feminine. The voice sounded high and strained, as if the speaker were in distress and fighting to make herself heard. “My darling, I don't have a lot of time. The others don't know I am here and I cannot fight the banishment placed upon us for very long,” the voice said.

Elle felt a lump rise in her throat. These words were touching that painful part of her childhood she did not readily share with others.

“I want you to know that I am terribly proud of you. And I am so very sorry that I cannot be there to guide you. This path of ours is not the easy path, but the rewards will be infinite.” Jasper's voice echoed in the darkness.

“What do we need to do to find him, Vivienne?” Loisa said.

Elle poked her friend with the toe of her boot to try and shut her up.

“Look for the Lady in White. She has the answers. He can be saved …” Jasper's voice trailed off.

“Where is she?” Loisa said.

“She is near water. Always near water. Follow the storms. And beware of the shadows. Don't go into the garden alone at night.”

“But where is the garden,” Loisa said again, but the ghost ignored her.

“Eleanor, you need us. You must unbanish us. Please!”

“Mother!” Elle blurted out, but the voice was gone.

The others in the room started muttering and shifting around. Clearly this was a momentous event for them, but Elle had had enough. She let go of Loisa's hand and the hand of the woman next to her and went over to the wall. With deft fingers she felt around in the dark until she found a box of matches. She struck one and set it to the wick of one of the candles. The room suddenly filled with flickering candlelight, obliterating the séance.

Jasper blinked. “The spirit has left,” he muttered.

“Perhaps it was for the best,” Elle said.

The others stared at Elle in amazement “But why did you come to this meeting if you did not want to communicate with the dead?” one man asked. Elle did not answer. The last thing she wanted to do right now was to confront the memories of her mother in front of all these strangers. And yet, the aching longing she had lived with for all her life felt somehow less. Her own mother—the one who was Oracle before her—had taken the trouble to reach out to her across the void.

“Jasper, may we have a word? In private please,” Elle said.

Jasper turned to his fellow society members. “Ladies and gentlemen, the spirit who spoke was most powerful and I fear that she has taken it out of me somewhat. Shall we adjourn until next week when we can compare notes and thoughts on this evening's meeting?”

Others murmured in agreement. “Drinks upstairs in ten minutes,” one of the men suggested.

“Very well, then. Till next week. I am looking forward to reading everyone's findings on what has been a most exceptional meeting.” He spread his arms and herded everyone out of the cellar with a little more speed than courtesy.

“Well then, ladies. How may I be of assistance?” he said to Elle and Loisa once everyone else had left the cellar. “Better come with me to the back where we can speak in a little more privacy.”

He gestured to an old velvet curtain that separated a part of the cellar from the rest. Behind the curtain was what looked like an office and a storeroom. There was a table overflowing with all manner of books and scrolls. And on the shelves behind it, boxes of candles and other divination paraphernalia sat where they had been shoved in a somewhat haphazard fashion. Mr. Sidgwick was clearly not a meticulous man.

“This is where our little club keeps the things we need for our rituals. Sorry for the mess, we don't normally allow people back here,” Jasper said apologetically. He lifted his robes from his shoulders and bundled them up.

Elle looked at one of the open books on the table. It was a book on alchemical runes and formulae. She shuddered and looked away from the concentric circles. Alchemy was her least favorite subject.

Jasper ran his hand over the patch at the back of his head that was already balding. “Our society is not devoted to just one discipline. We are scientists and we use this place to study all forms of the occult,” he explained with a touch of pride. “We also engage is all manner of occult practices. Fortune telling, communicating with the dead, mesmerism. In fact, I am currently posturing the theory that the channeling of power comes via an independent source. A cornerstone, if you may, and I am working on a way to access that power. Just think of how wonderful we could make the world if we could harness both halves of the divide. Just think of all we could achieve if we had access to infinite energy.”

“But isn't that inordinately dangerous? You could throw the whole world into anarchy if you get it wrong.” Elle gave Loisa an anguished look. She was not about to tell Jasper that
she
was the way that all that power could be accessed. “Knowledge of such things usually comes at a price, Jasper. The question is whether you are prepared to pay that price,” Elle added.

Loisa laughed. “Nonsense. I think Jasper proved without a doubt that he is most fearless in the face of adversity.”

Jasper blushed. “It was nothing. I am very pleased to have been able to get so close to the creatures. But tell me, how is the one that you caught?”

“He is fine. Resting at home,” Elle said.

“You should bring it to a meeting. I am sure all our members would love to see it up close.”

Elle felt Loisa grip her elbow, warning her not to say anything.

“Jasper, we were wondering if you could help us with a little with our experiments?” Loisa said tactfully.

“Of course. All you need do is ask.”

“Do you have anything in your collection of works on the subject of necromancy?”

Jasper thought for a moment before his face lit up. “Of course! Why didn't I think of that sooner? It makes perfect sense.”

“But necromancers are so very rare. I thought they had all been exterminated,” Loisa said.

“Ah, even you don't know everything, my dear immortal lady,” Jasper said. “My studies have suggested that necromancy is simply a technique. Any of the magically adept can turn to the dark arts of the dead. It's just a case of learning how.”

“So a witch or a warlock or anyone with the Shadow in their blood could be a necromancer?” Elle asked. “Do they learn their craft like the alchemists do?”

Jasper nodded. “Little is known about them, I would have thought some sort of apprenticeship would be the way.”

“If I were a necromancer, where would I hide if I came to London?” Elle wondered.

Jasper let out a puff of air as he contemplated the question. “Impossible to say. I suppose it depends on the necromancer. If they draw their power from the elements, then water would go to water. Fire to fire and so on. Specific Shadow creatures have different predilections for certain environments. Or so the theory goes.” He fussed around the table and pulled out an illustrated chart. It was filled with Cabbalic symbols. “See here. Mermaids and kelpies like water. Nightwalkers cannot abide daylight, so they favor the night. The various fairies favor whatever plant or stone they were born of. But there are myriad sources of power. The sea, lightning, volcanoes. They could be anywhere.”

“Lightning,” Elle said. She looked at Loisa.

“Actually, I have a book about necromancy. My cousin Aleister briefly explored the darker reaches of power a few years ago when he was at Oxford. He let me borrow some of his books, but I forgot to return them. He is in Paris at the moment, so I'm sure he won't mind if you took a look.”

“That would be extremely helpful,” Elle said.

“Very well.” Jasper”s face lit up at the prospect. “Why don't you come round to me tomorrow evening? I shall arrange for some tea and a cold supper and we can discuss the matter in more detail. You have the address?”

“Yes, I will be able to find your rooms again,” Loisa said.

Jasper smiled. “Splendid. I am entirely at your service,” he beamed.

“Thank you, Jasper. We will call shortly after sunset,” Elle said.

As they turned to go, Jasper called to Loisa. “Um, Baroness, may I have a word in private,” he said.

“I'll see you at the car,” Elle said as she carefully stepped round the Delphic circle.

The Stanley was thankfully untouched when Elle returned to it. She waited outside the motor until Loisa returned. “What on earth was that all about?” she asked her friend.

Loisa shrugged. “Jasper has asked if I would consider turning him to the nightside.”

Elle shuddered. “Really. Why would someone deliberately want that?”

“The power. The allure of immortality. Who can say? I suspect that he has been so helpful because he was looking for an opportunity to ask me.”

“And what will you do?” Elle asked.

Loisa shrugged. “He is far too young for the burdens that those of us who walk the night must bear. I told him that we should be friends for a few years yet. And if he still wishes to make the transition, then I shall help him.”

“Fair enough. Let's see what he comes up with tomorrow night,” Elle said.

“My thoughts exactly. It takes a long time before one can truly know the depths of someone's character. Turning to the nightside is not a decision made lightly.”

Elle sighed as she got into the motor and started up the engine. “Loisa, I'm cold and tired. Perhaps she should go home for tonight.”

Loisa did not make any move to get into the car.

“Well, come on, then,” Elle said. “The weather is not getting any better.”

“You go home and get some rest. I am going to take my leave from you for a little while. Making the journey here was extremely taxing. I have spent far more time in daylight than I should have.”

“Oh Loisa, you should have said something!” Elle said.

The Nightwalker shook her head. “Your excellent dinners have sustained me, but I need a little bit more to build up my strength. So I think I will take a short walk through the West End before I return home.”