The Neon Court (18 page)

“I am sure, Ms Ngwenya, that Matthew has given you his little chat about blood magics. I am sure he has explained to you that, for example, his own blood has, upon stressful moments, been known to ignite to the colour and consistency of burning blue electric fire, and that there have been those who, faced with this medical fact, have sought to obtain this blood for their own purposes, usually related to the cheating of death or gathering of great power. I am sure that Matthew has informed you how these … little escapades … have ended. Even were blood magic not riddled with unwelcome consequences, unforgivable pain and unfortunate risks, it would still be what it indeed is: the last resort of the desperate mortal unable to bear the consequences of a life lived to the full. It seems to me that Oda right now might be an excellent example of the risks of such dabblings, for undeniably the power that can sustain a woman with a knife wound to the heart is immense, as, undeniably, is its cost. I do not say that her elder brother attempted to become a vampire – that’s a very specialist area of physiological adaptation, by now well enough publicised to give even the rash some pause for thought before embarking on its attainment. No: what Kayle Ajaja attempted was more akin to the syphoning off of others’ power through the medium of a blood bond, the theft of others’ lives, of others’ strength, if you will, to boost his own. Nor did he practise necromancy, since that implies his victims were dead. Alas, Kayle had discovered all for himself that the greatest power to be obtained came from things that are still living, not from the dead. Life is magic, I believe is a common sorcerer’s phrase. Where there is no life, there is no magic.

“So, Kayle Ajaja began to feed off others. It began with vulnerable individuals who he felt had done him wrong, even if this wrong was something as trifling as jostling him when queuing for a bus. Then it became strangers in the street, beggars and runaways, to satisfy his needs. Soon he became organised, and used his abilities to obtain information on local residents that could be incriminating to them, exchanging his silence for services inexplicable.

“In time, his actions grew so flagrant that they could not be contained. We don’t know at exactly what point he demonstrated his abilities, gloating, to his sister Oda, but it seems a reasonable guess that the event coincided with her sudden decision to leave home again.
What we do know is that she sought advice from the local priest, who, having no knowledge of such affairs, initially thought she was mad. Fortunately for Oda, he communicated his fears, not with the local council, but with others in the church, of whom a woman called Hale had links to the Order. Oda immediately became a subject of great interest to Hale, who made it her business to become close to the confused young woman, going so far as to put her up, without rent, for nearly two months during this time of domestic crisis.

“Kayle’s actions had also attracted the attention of other magicians in the Reading area. It is a peculiar place, Reading, in terms of the sorts of magician it attracts. Urban magicians can function in the town, for there is life enough in it to breathe strength to the fingers of such a practitioner; however, its proximity to the countryside, relative newness and distance from London all make it suitable for more traditional magicians to take up residence on the outskirts, within easy reach of places of older, rural magic. I believe it was this second category of magician who Kayle managed most seriously to offend, through more of his usual arrogance and pranks, and who contacted their urban counterparts to seek a solution. A few tentative examinations of the Ajaja house quickly persuaded the local inhabitants to get in professional assistance from London, and after some more discreet enquiries word reached the Aldermen of Kayle’s latest activities. Though outside his jurisdiction, Nair was fully aware of Kayle’s potential and danger, and authorised a team of Aldermen to rendezvous with local inhabitants in Reading and conclude the matter one way or another.

“They met. They went to the Ajaja house. There, without even bothering to speak and in broad daylight, Kayle attacked them, and the Aldermen retaliated. You have, no doubt, seen the Aldermen at work – they are as comfortable with guns as with spells, and Kayle was unprepared to oppose either. He was injured, a bullet to the belly that should have killed him, but rather than drop to the ground, he fled, healing even as he went. The Aldermen attempted to follow him, but rushing inside the house found Kayle’s youngest sister, Jabuile, lying on her bed, blood slowly filling her belly. Through his practices, Kayle had succeeded in using his sister’s strength to heal his wounds, and the act was killing Jabuile.

“The local magicians took the girl to the nearest hospital while the Aldermen attempted to track Kayle, but he was already fled and their powers of detection grew weaker away from the city. Jabuile died two days later in a hospital bed.

“Oda was there when she died.

“Four days later, Kayle’s body turned up on the coast three miles east of Hastings. It was a place where the Ajaja family had once gone for a holiday, back when Oda was barely seven years old, the one holiday they had shared with their father. There was a bullet in his brain and three in his chest. Oda was found some three hundred yards away, gunshot residue on her hands, blood on her clothes.

“The police took her into custody, and two days after that, she vanished.

“So did Hale, the woman from the church in Reading. Indeed, it is only through a great deal of bureaucratic innovation that we know Hale even existed to begin with.

“The Aldermen left it at that, as did the rest of the magical community in both Reading and London. With Kayle dead, no one was interested any more. And so Oda Ajaja vanished.

“Oh – make no mistake. A woman with a striking resemblance to her was seen in many different places, on many different occasions. She appeared in St Petersburg, approximately seven months after vanishing from police custody, walking away from the scene of a murder in the metro; except that the body of the murder victim crumbled to dust and there was never any chance to hold an inquiry. I believe in Brazil there is still an arrest warrant out for a woman called Carla Brown, whose physical description matches Oda’s perfectly. In Chicago she is suspected of involvement with a fire that killed three old women with a thing for chalk circles and invocation; in Rome, Paris and Berlin there were high-velocity rounds fired from the same rifle which has never been traced, all the victims magicians or dabblers in the craft, all the witnesses silent on who pulled the trigger, except here or there, one or two who whisper that it was a woman.

“What I know for certain, through my … special … relationship with some of the higher echelons of the Order … is that Oda Ajaja came to London nearly four years ago, after a career the details of
which are hidden even from me. She quickly established herself as both an excellent detector and skilled exterminator of unwelcome magical influences across the city, finally earning the dubious honour of joining the coalition eventually formed with myself and a number of other factions, against Robert Bakker and the institution known as the Tower. I believe it was in the context of that coalition, Matthew, that you first met her. I further believe that she was under orders to kill you, as soon as you had served your purpose in destroying Bakker, but the orders were rescinded, owing to some … considerate advice … that suggested that you were more useful alive than dead. Your appointment as Midnight Mayor raised the debate again – was it more important to remove a threat quite as significant as a sorcerer–electric-angel-Mayor fusion from the streets, or was it worth keeping you alive in the hope of manipulating such a powerful weapon? Alas, events prevented the Order ever reaching a firm decision on the matter, when it became apparent that you, Matthew, were the only individual left within the city who had both the knowledge and the ability to prevent the entity we knew as Mr Pinner, or the death of cities, from fulfilling his job description.

“Your success in doing so doubtless continued to justify your existence in the eyes of the Order as a useful tool against such broader threats. However, your actions in achieving this end left Oda Ajaja’s position somewhat compromised. She performed a spell; a harmless enough piece of magic, I believe, a cantrip, nothing more, using a pre-prepared spectral trap that you had created. She didn’t think, she didn’t plan, she merely acted on the spur of the moment, saving, I have little doubt, both your and her lives in the process. She was then injured, rather seriously, in the conflict that ensued between you and Mr Pinner, and having little time available, you were unable to turn back and assist her.

“The physical injuries, for all that they were extensive, were as nothing to the spiritual damnation that Oda has brought upon her own soul. She is a member of the Order; her life has been dedicated to the eradication of magic, upon the theological grounds that it is a sin straight from Satan himself to cast spells and perform miracles as if you were some sort of demigod. And yet this is exactly what she did, that night when Mr Pinner came for you both. She cast a spell. Her soul is,
by this logic, damned. Eternity is a very unforgiving time frame – it just takes one sin to merit it, and there’s no parole board ready to consider a review at the thousand-year mark.

“And the Order knows all this.

“Holy confession is, perhaps, somewhat less holy when your confessors are armed with guns too. One of their own, one of their best, a woman they had nurtured from her first act, and now corrupted – by you, in fact, Matthew. Injured, weakened and corrupt. She is fallen. They will never trust her again. The best thing, as far as the Order is concerned, is for her to die. They may even have to kill her themselves, but I believe it is more their intention that she should die as she lives – fighting the things she has sworn to destroy, such as yourself – in the curious hope that in such a death, she will find peace. So long, that is, that she does it soon.”

Silence, after Sinclair had stopped speaking.

Then Penny’s voice, too loud in the hush. “Well, glad I never met psycho-bitch;
shit
.”

“Technically, you did,” I pointed out. “She was the girl with the gun who you didn’t spot standing on top of the stairs when you had a night job cleaning at St Pancras. Not to throw off the joy or anything …”

“Psycho-bitch was going to shoot
me
? Why?”

“My dear,” sighed Sinclair, “you had, and I mean this in no way at all to question your current commitment or upright spirit, but you had, at the time, by mistake, summoned the death of cities. I’m sure you can see how certain … radical solutions … came to be considered.”

“You mean you thought about shooting …”

“But didn’t!” I butted in. “Let’s focus on the part of the story where we didn’t. Besides, all this stuff about Oda is very well and good, but doesn’t help us find her or stop whatever it is that’s currently wearing her skin like an old hat.”

“Have you considered telling the Neon Court about all this?” suggested Sinclair. “If they were aware that their daimyo wasn’t killed by the Tribe, and of the risk Oda poses …”

“Lady Neon was halfway to London before Minjae San met his maker,” I sighed. “This whole dead daimyo business is nothing more
than an excuse to make me do her dirty work: all this chosen one crap. Besides, what would I say exactly? ‘Hi, you know how you want me to find the guy who popped your daimyo? Well, I kinda got a confession to make …’”

“But you didn’t kill him.”

“I can’t imagine Lady Neon seeing it like that. She’s already got me going to Heathrow to be impressed by the size of her dragon with this damn bloody treaty business. I’d rather not give her my internal organs on a platter as well.”

“Then this war …”

“War over a chosen one; therefore a war that is for nothing; therefore a war that is almost certainly being fought for reasons far more bitter, stupid, pig-headed and deep for anyone to own up to it, let alone stop.”

“We should inform the Aldermen of all this.”

“The Aldermen hate my guts,” I sighed.

“You’re the Midnight Mayor.”

“Yep. And the majority of the Aldermen can’t stand it. I got promoted from the outside, a rush job; I’m unstable, we’re too dangerous – thank you, but I came to you, Mr Sinclair, precisely because you aren’t the Aldermen.”

“What about Leslie Dees? Do you trust her?”

I thought about it long and hard. “Less than a snake and more than an Alderman.”

“In your own peculiar way, Matthew, that sounded like a ‘yes’. Forgive me saying so” – a note of impatience entered Sinclair’s voice – “but you are hardly at your fighting fittest right now. While naturally I strive to assist you in such times, my means are more suited to a backseat role than to active involvement with a fight. Obviously you have an invaluable asset in your good apprentice …”

“Thank you!” growled Penny.

“… and your own means are hardly trivial, but in this case, I do believe you may have to seek allies somewhere. Who are you going to turn to?”

I shook my head, shrugged, looked down to where I guessed my feet were. “What would you do?” I asked.

I could practically hear Sinclair ticking the points off on his
chubby red fingertips as he spoke. “I would inform Dees at the very least, if not the Aldermen as a mass, regarding all of what you have just told me. I would seek a means to secure a temporary truce between the Tribe and the Court. I would seek clarification on the status of this ‘chosen one’ from all parties to see whether an amicable diplomatic solution could not be achieved. While doing the above, I would actively seek this individual in order to perhaps use her as a bartering chip in any subsequent negotiations or, as an alternative, to remove her from the conflict zone and hopefully from the equation. I would seek academic guidance on exactly what manner of creature appears to have possessed Oda. I would seek academic guidance on any magics that could … perhaps … have created the remarkable solar circumstances you describe. I would talk to the Order.”

I opened my mouth to say something rude, and he got there first, slipping in under my words before I had a chance to dish out any suitable obscenities.