The Laws of Magic 6: Hour of Need (5 page)

Von Stralick stopped. ‘You have no shortage of ideas. Tell me, though: is it a good one?’

Aubrey answered a question with a question. ‘What’s your experience with interrogation, Hugo?’

‘I’ve been on both sides. I prefer to be the one asking the questions.’

‘You can do it humanely?’

‘Ah, now there’s a question.’ Von Stralick took his time before answering. ‘In my view, torture is a most unreliable way of obtaining information. People will tell you anything to make it stop, so how do you know what to believe?’

‘You’ve done this?’

‘I’ve seen it done by stupid people and by people who thought they were clever. It is distasteful.’

‘But the other way. You can get information from people without using torture?’

‘I have my methods.’

‘Good. When these guards come back, what do you say to capturing them and getting information out of them?’

Von Stralick nodded sharply and, together, they ran from the operations room – but just before Aubrey left, he snatched a handful of rubber bands from one of the desks.

A
UBREY AND VON
S
TRALICK POSITIONED THEMSELVES IN
the bushes on either side of the stairs that led from the doors of the main house. From there, they could see the gates; soon, the lorry, after complaining its way up the steepest part of the ascent, lumbered through the entrance to the estate.

Aubrey had one hand in the pocket of his jacket as the lorry crunched its way along the gravel of the driveway, white in the night-time. He was prepared. He’d put together a spell using the Law of Amplification, the Law of Action at a Distance and the Law of Propensity and he was confident. The guards would be in the one place at the one time and he was sure he could bind them with the ensorcelled rubber bands.

The headlights of the lorry flashed across the bushes as it followed the curve to the main entrance. Aubrey couldn’t help but duck, even though he was well hidden.

With a screech of brakes, the lorry pulled up. One of the guards alighted, followed by the broad-shouldered driver. They stood inspecting the main house as if they’d never seen it before and Aubrey waited, frustrated, for the others to climb down from the rear of the lorry.

Aubrey ground his teeth. If he enacted his spell now he could lose the advantage of surprising the other guards, but if he waited, they’d separate and he could lose the chance.

Von Stralick nudged him and glared. Aubrey parted the bushes, squinted, then quickly stood and threw the rubber bands. He chanted the spell and then ducked again, joining von Stralick scuttling through the vegetation along the front of the house.

When they reached the corner of the house, they had a good line of sight. Aubrey’s magical awareness allowed him to see the enspelled rubber bands, hooping through the air toward the unsuspecting guards. The bands were expanding as they went and moving with a single intent like a flock of birds. He clenched his fist and, silently, cheered them on.

At the last moment, the shorter of the guards looked up and cried out, but it was too late. The bands swooped, and in an instant they were looping and tangling in precisely the way Aubrey’s spell had encouraged them.

Aubrey was on his feet and running as the oaths and cries came from the guards. Von Stralick overtook him. When the Holmlander reached the knot of swearing intruders on the gravel, he leaned against the lorry and yawned. He brandished his revolver. ‘Do not move,’ he said, in Holmlandish, ‘if you value your life.’

Immediately, all struggling ceased. A throaty female voice responded. ‘Hugo, I hope you have a way out of this mess, for all our sakes.’

Von Stralick leaped as if the lorry had suddenly become red hot. ‘Zelinka? What are you doing here?’

‘Helping my friend George Doyle find you two, of course. Now, get me out of here.’

T
HE DRAWING ROOM OF THE MAIN HOUSE HAD
remained a drawing room, even while the rest of the place had been taken over by Dr Tremaine and his lackeys. It remained, however, a drawing room of a Holmland hunting lodge, which meant that it was full of furniture that was so heavy that each piece could be used to anchor a battleship. The walls were panelled with depressingly dark wood, but only a little of this could be seen in between the hunting trophies that made Aubrey think, as soon as he entered the room, that entire walls were looking at him.

The trophies were the stuffed and mounted heads of beasts that had proven they were slower, duller or unluckier than their comrades. Many of these were local animals – boar, a bear or two, even a few desperately unfortunate wolves – but some had obviously been brought in from far, far away. Unless, Aubrey reflected, a circus had become lost, crashed, and a horde of jungle animals had taken up residence in the woods of the Alemmani Mountains.

After von Stralick did his best to convince a sceptical Madame Zelinka that his gaunt appearance wasn’t a true reflection of his state of health, she sat on a vast leather sofa and, with some distaste, set about combing through her hair with her fingers to get rid of the remnants of the ensorcelled rubber bands. Her dark green, no-nonsense skirt and jacket were also sporting the remains of the rubber and von Stralick stood behind her, picking it off her shoulders.

George sat in an armchair, ran a hand over his short military crop, shrugged, glanced at his nondescript black trousers and jacket, shrugged again, then jammed a beret back on his head. ‘Lovely place. Have you had it long?’

Aubrey was delighted to see his old friend again, but his presence – and the presence of the mysterious Madame Zelinka – posed a thousand questions. Not the least of them concerned the whereabouts and health of Caroline Hepworth, and it had taken all of Aubrey’s strength of character not to try to shake the answer out of George in the driveway.

Aubrey couldn’t sit. He paced the room, back and forward in front of a dormant fireplace wide enough to roast an entire ox.

‘What were you doing driving a Holmland lorry?’ von Stralick asked.

‘We were coming up the mountain as it was coming down,’ Madame Zelinka said. ‘My Enlightened Ones insisted that I would be more comfortable driving than walking, so they took it.’

Von Stralick chuckled, rounded the sofa and sat by her side. ‘And the guards who were in this lorry?’

‘They are out there, in the woods. Under the watch of my people.’

‘What did you do to them, old man?’ George asked Aubrey. ‘They were terrified.’

‘I threw a scare into them. A magical scare.’

‘They panicked when they thought we were going to drag them back to this place. Quite happy, they were, to be tied up to trees.’

‘No doubt.’ Aubrey remembered their terror. ‘Now, George, what on earth are you doing here?’

George surrendered. ‘You win, Madame Z.’

‘If you insist. One of these Albionish wagering games,’ she said to a puzzled von Stralick. ‘Doyle wagered that he knew what question Fitzwilliam would ask first, and I had to guess another.’

Von Stralick was perplexed. ‘Your winnings?’

Madame Zelinka shrugged. Her face, usually grave, had a hint of a smile. ‘He owes me a favour. I shall call on it some time.’

George blinked. ‘Er … Not when it’s too inconvenient, if you don’t mind.’

‘What is inconvenient for you may be convenient for me. We shall see.’

Aubrey could never resist a sidetrack. ‘And what was the question you thought I’d ask first, George?’

‘I thought you’d ask about Caroline, old man.’ George grinned.

‘Ah.’

‘Remarkable strength of character, your forbearance. Before we get to her, though, you need to know that Madame Z and her pals have come over to our side.’

Madame Zelinka made a face. ‘We have not come over to your side, Doyle. How many times have I told you this?’

‘Probably a few dozen,’ George said. ‘All the way from Trinovant to here, if I recall correctly.’

‘We have ways and means to cross borders,’ Madame Zelinka said, responding to Aubrey’s naked curiosity. ‘The Enlightened Ones always have.’

‘Which is why the Directorate contacted them, apparently,’ George said. ‘Commander Craddock was hoping that they might be able to do something.’

‘This is only the third time in our history that we have abandoned our neutrality,’ Madame Zelinka said. ‘It is not done lightly, but Dr Tremaine …’

Aubrey jumped in. ‘Your people see the threat that Dr Tremaine is posing to the world?’

‘It is greater than you imagine, perhaps.’

‘Greater than destroying nations?’ George said. ‘Greater than killing hundreds of thousands of people?’

Madame Zelinka shook her head. ‘The wisest magicians in our order think that he aims to control magic himself.’ She looked at Aubrey. ‘Have you heard that he has been abducting magicians from all over the world?’

‘After seeing unwilling magicians being delivered here, I’d put two and two together.’

‘They are here?’

‘They’re gone now.’

She hissed through her teeth for a moment. ‘The magicians are part of his plan.’

‘How? What?’

‘We think that he has found a way to use their magical ability, whether they are willing or not.’

‘As if we needed another reason to stop him,’ George said gruffly.

‘Tell me about Albion,’ Aubrey said abruptly. ‘What about Mother and Father?’

George crossed his arms. ‘You’ll be pleased to know that your father did exactly as you wanted. You’ve been declared a traitor and you’ve been vilified the length and breadth of the land.’

‘Ah. That’s good.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t say that it was good, but it was enough to save your father and the Progressive government, as you’d hoped. In fact, having been betrayed by a blackhearted villain of a son has actually gained Sir Darius a great deal of public sympathy.’

‘Splendid,’ Aubrey muttered.

George went on. ‘An ungrateful son, one who shunned his father’s example and spurned all that Albion had to offer.’

‘I think I understand the picture, George.’

‘Speaking of pictures, Holmland has supplied some of those photographs they took, with your being chummy with Baron von Grolman and the like.’

Aubrey sighed. ‘It was inevitable.’

‘While the newspapers aren’t printing them just yet, they’re all making reference to them. How you’re breaking the heart of your mother, betraying your country to the enemy, the promising talent who became the Turn-coat Thaumaturge, the Wicked Wizard, the Malignant Magician, the Dreadful Young Man.’

‘Dreadful Young Man?’

‘That was the
Daily Post
. They always have unconvincing headlines.’

Madame Zelinka tapped the armrest of the sofa. ‘I think that is enough, Doyle.’

‘Just giving him the flavour of the press.’ George fiddled with a cuff for a moment. ‘When news of the photographs was made public, the uproar was astounding, but thanks to your warning, at least everyone was calling for
your
head, old man, rather than calling for your father’s.’

Despite all this unfolding as planned, Aubrey was a little hollow inside. ‘And how are Mother and Father? Really?’

‘To the public, they’re heartbroken and dismayed,’ George said, ‘but, really, they’re proud, if a little concerned. They said to tell you that.’

‘You’ve seen them?’

‘Caroline wouldn’t let us talk to anyone before we spoke to your parents – not even the Directorate. Once we left you in Stalsfrieden, she drove us like a Fury through Gallia, picking up Sophie’s parents along the way, before she commandeered a sloop to get us to Trinovant. You would have loved to see the way she stood up to any official who tried to stop us.’

‘Oh yes,’ he said faintly.

‘I have to tell you, old man, that your mother was shocked by your plan. She thought it was outrageous.’

‘I agree with her,’ Aubrey said. ‘It was outrageous. It
needed
to be outrageous.’

‘I think it took your father about half a minute to realise that. He said you were extremely clever.’

‘He did?’

‘Brave and clever, he said, while he dried your mother’s tears with his coat sleeve. Then she said you were too noble for your own good.’

His mother had actually cried? Aubrey grimaced. He hadn’t meant to distress his parents this much. His mother was usually extremely pragmatic and he’d been certain she’d see how necessary his plan was.

These are distressing times
, he thought.
Maybe for mothers more than most.

He became aware of the scrutiny from Hugo and Madame Zelinka. Steadfastly, he kept his gaze on a startled-looking ocelot on the wall just above George’s head. ‘You said that you were able to find Sophie’s parents?’

‘Friendly people, overjoyed to see her and her brother. And more than happy to leave Gallia for Albion.’

‘Gallia is in a poor way,’ Madame Zelinka said. ‘Morale is low, the government is fighting within its own ranks.’

‘Sophie’s brother helped convince them that leaving Gallia would be sensible, at least in the short term,’ George said. ‘After he’d explained what a fool he’d been, of course.’

Aubrey had been wondering how the reconciliation would go between Théo Delroy and his parents. While Aubrey was only pretending to be a traitor, Théo had actually enlisted in the Holmland army.

‘The Directorate was more than happy to see Professor Delroy,’ George said. ‘Apparently he has news about Holmland financial dealings that may be useful in our war effort.’

‘Baron von Grolman’s machinations, I hope,’ Aubrey added.

‘I’d say so. Somehow I don’t think that the secret buying into Albion businesses that he’s been doing over the last few years is going to come to much after Professor Delroy, the Directorate and the Exchequer finish their investigations.’

Aubrey’s head was awhirl. So much information after being deprived of it for so long was like putting a rich meal in front of a starving man. ‘What news of the war? Are we winning?’

‘It’s hard to tell,’ George said. ‘The Gallians have managed to halt the Holmland advance at Divodorum, and we’ve combined with their troops, troops from the Low Countries and some jolly welcome reinforcements from the colonies to hold them up on the north-west front.’

‘A stalemate,’ Madame Zelinka said.

‘For the moment. A bloody stalemate. The weather, old man, has either been a godsend or a curse, depending on your point of view. Both sides have trenches and barbed wire stretching for miles now, but dust is driving everyone mad.’

Aubrey didn’t think it was the best time to raise his nightmare scenario of a continuous battleline, joining the two fronts, but he had no doubt that Dr Tremaine was formulating some way to end the stalemate. ‘And Muscovia?’

‘Much fighting,’ Madame Zelinka said. ‘Nothing decisive. All dug in, like at Divodorum.’

‘And any news from Holmland?’

‘Ah, yes, Holmland.’ George looked at Madame Zelinka, who looked straight back at him. ‘Lots of interesting news from Holmland. For a start, Madame Z’s people say there’s a build-up near the border town of Korsur, south of Stalsfrieden. It’s puzzling because Korsur is a small place, no strategic importance at all.’

Aubrey raised an eyebrow at von Stralick. ‘We have an indication that Dr Tremaine might have some connection with Korsur. Does the Directorate have anything to confirm this?’

George looked thoughtful and went to answer, but Madame Zelinka cut him off: ‘Korsur is not important. Tell him.’

George scowled and, suddenly uncomfortable, rubbed his hands together slowly before answering. ‘From what Madame Z’s correspondents have told us, and some bits and pieces that Commander Craddock mentioned, it looks as if there is considerable unrest in Holmland over the war. Some sign of an underground opposition, it seems like.’

‘That sounds good.’

‘Count Brandt’s efforts didn’t go to waste. His sister is rallying dissidents and objectors, and the opposition is gathering strength thanks to a few handy developments.’

Aubrey grimaced. Holmland wasn’t Albion. While Albion wasn’t perfect, the role of women was changing for the better. Holmland, by comparison, still had an appallingly old-fashioned attitude to women. Count Brandt’s sister may find it difficult to organise support.

‘The Directorate is doing what it can to help this movement?’

‘Funny you should say that, because both Commander Craddock and Commander Tallis were more than eager to send a special team to help the few operatives we still have in Fisherberg. A special team with very special abilities.’

Aubrey had a growing sense of unease. ‘Special abilities.’

‘Caroline and Sophie, old man. They’ve been sent to Fisherberg to foment unrest.’

A
UBREY COULDN’T HAVE BEEN MORE DUMBFOUNDED IF
Dr Tremaine had suddenly appeared and told them that they would soon wake up and find it was all a dream.

Astonishment reduced him to politeness. ‘I beg your pardon?’