Trinovant was in the clutches of the small hours of the morning by the time the train reached St Swithins. Aubrey and his friends leaped from the train as soon as it had slowed enough, and sidled through a place that was crowded despite it being a time when all good citizens should be abed.
Aubrey stopped at a grimy, red-brick pillar near a darkened workshop entrance. He yawned, then peered at the helmeted figures on the platform opposite, tall amid the anxious Trinovantans who were waiting, suitcases and valises by their sides, to leave the capital. ‘I know how this will sound,’ he said to his friends, ‘but how do I look?’
‘Not at all yourself.’ Caroline stretched, reaching for the ceiling with both hands linked. ‘And I assume that’s just what you’re after.’
‘Sophie, you have a real talent for this sort of thing,’ Aubrey said.
Sophie was looking about anxiously at the nervous throng. ‘Are you sure? I can try another spell if you are unhappy.’
George turned away from the platform, folding his arms. ‘Police.’
Aubrey straightened his jacket. ‘Let us go about our business, then, as all innocent people should.’
Aubrey held his breath as he and his friends squeezed past the four police constables in greatcoats who were casting about with lanterns and checking doors. He nodded at them and received wary acknowledgement in return as the nervous young men recognised the uniforms of the Directorate. Even the remarkably attractive Caroline and Sophie failed to bring a smile to the lips of the constables, and Aubrey wondered exactly what they’d been told. Were they looking for Aubrey Fitzwilliam, traitor of Albion, or was this simply part of the general climate of mistrust that war had brought?
Once free of the crowd that was choking the station, they made their way toward the Eastride underground station. Walking through the quiet, night-time streets, Aubrey noticed how the stars were hidden by clouds, a low overcast sky hanging over the capital. Crossing at the intersection of Bennett and Garland Streets, a ghostly beckoning caught him as he was about to step from the footpath and he nearly overbalanced. Caroline caught his elbow, glanced at him and frowned as he rubbed his chest with his free hand. ‘What is it?’
Aubrey couldn’t help but look skywards. To the north, out over Stapledon and Allingham, a mass of clouds broke apart. The outlines of Dr Tremaine’s skyfleet, black against the dark grey of the thunderheads, were unmistakable. ‘He’s here.’