Mr Fogarty hitched the imperial robes above his knee and sat scratching a blemish on one skinny shank. ‘Well, that was a waste of time,’ he said.
Pyrgus watched him warily. You could never tell what Mr Fogarty would do next, and now he was Acting Purple Emperor, that was a nerve-wracking situation.
‘Couldn’t you have forced it out of him?’ he asked cautiously.
Mr Fogarty looked up from under steel-grey eyebrows. ‘That was the old idea,’ he said. ‘Threaten them with torments. You heard Cynthia hitting him with the traditional formula. But know what, Pyrgus? I’ve been reading up on demons and I think they’ve had us all fooled – human and faerie – for an awfully long time.’ He stopped scratching and flipped the robe back over his knee. ‘You know the deal with demons, don’t you? They’re organised like insects.’ He waved Pyrgus towards a nearby chair. ‘Sit down a minute, will you?’
Pyrgus perched on the edge of a chair and waited. They were in the Gatekeeper’s official office, having left Madame Cardui and Flapwazzle to clear up after dismissing the demon. Mr Fogarty said, ‘You can’t deal with insects. Not as individuals. You deal with the hive. It’s the hive that’s the individual. Same with demons. You think you’re talking to this one or that one – Black John or whoever – but you’re really talking to them all. They’re linked inside their heads. They’re all linked. And all the links join up in their king. So really you’re always talking to Beleth.’
‘Beleth?’ Pyrgus wasn’t sure he was following this.
‘You’re not following this, are you?’ Mr Fogarty said. He sighed. ‘Doesn’t matter. Except you’ll never get anywhere tormenting an individual demon. What does Beleth care about Black John? Poor little sod got sold into service, had to do what he was told while Beleth collected his pay. Torment Black John as much as you like, he’s not going to tell you anything Beleth doesn’t want him to. Beleth has his own plans.’
‘But people – Faeries of the Night – do torment demons,’ Pyrgus said. ‘It’s one of the ways of controlling them.’
Mr Fogarty gave a small shrug. ‘Just a game, as far as I can make out. Just a way to make people think they’re in control. But you’re never in control with a demon. It’s always got a hidden agenda. It’s always following Beleth ’s orders.’
Pyrgus said, ‘What are we going to do, Mr Fogarty? About finding Blue?’ He hesitated a beat, then added, ‘And Henry?’
‘Well,’ Mr Fogarty said, ‘Black John sure as hell isn’t going to tell us.’ He glanced sideways at Pyrgus. ‘But you might.’
Pyrgus had one of those sinking feelings he got sometimes. ‘What?’ he asked uncertainly.
‘What did Henry have in his hand?’ Mr Fogarty asked. He waited a second, then said, ‘Oh, come on, Pyrgus – I saw your face when Kitterick was on replay. We were wondering if it was a crystal goblet or a Halek knife, but you knew what it was, didn’t you?’
Pyrgus looked down at his feet, then glanced briefly behind him, then looked down at his feet again. ‘Yes,’ he said eventually.
Fogarty waited. ‘Well, are you going to tell me or are you just going to sit there looking miserable?’
‘It was a crystal flower,’ Pyrgus said.
‘And what was the fairy dust?’
Pyrgus blinked. ‘Faerie dust…?’
‘That sparkling stuff. You could just about see it in the replay.’
‘I don’t know what that was,’ Pyrgus said. ‘I’ve never seen that sparkling stuff before. Maybe it’s what you get when you crush something crystal into powder.’
‘You ever tried to crush crystal into powder with one hand?’ Fogarty asked.
Pyrgus shook his head dumbly.
‘Thought not,’ said Fogarty. ‘What’s going on, Pyrgus?’
Somehow Pyrgus couldn’t drag his gaze away from Mr Fogarty’s grey eyes. He swallowed. ‘Maybe it was some sort of new magic or something. Maybe Henry -’
‘Let’s cut the crap,’ Mr Fogarty said sharply. ‘Henry doesn’t do magic. He’s allergic to it. I don’t buy it, Pyrgus, and I don’t buy the way you’re acting. You know something you’re not telling and I’m going to get it out of you if I have to wring your neck. We’re on a Countdown here, for God’s sake. Apart from your sister’s safety, if we don’t find her in three days – less now – we start a war!’
Pyrgus said, ‘I’ve seen flowers like that before, Mr Fogarty.’
Fogarty released an explosive sigh. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘OK – where?’
Pyrgus licked his lips. ‘There’s a Faerie of the Night called Zosine Ogyris -’
‘The merchant? Rich as Croesus?’
‘I don’t know Croesus, but he’s rich.’
‘What’s he do?’ Fogarty asked. ‘Manufacture these things?’
Pyrgus shook his head. ‘No, he grows them.’
‘I thought you said they were crystal?’
‘Yes, they are. Rock crystal. But Gel- somebody told me he grows them.’ He hesitated, looking at Mr Fogarty. ‘I don’t know how that’s possible either.’
Mr Fogarty sat quietly for a moment, then obviously decided not to worry about impossibilities. ‘What’s he do with them? Sell them?’ He frowned. ‘I haven’t heard of crystal flowers.’
This was getting hideously embarrassing. Pyrgus wondered if he couldn’t fuzz the rest somehow. But he was a bit afraid of Mr Fogarty and he’d a feeling he was in enough trouble already without making it worse. He drew a deep breath.
‘I think he’s growing them for Lord Hairstreak.’
Mr Fogarty looked at him, stunned. ‘What’s Hairstreak want with them?’
‘I don’t know,’ Pyrgus said miserably.
Mr Fogarty got up and began to pace. Suddenly he turned on Pyrgus. ‘Why the hell didn’t you say anything about this before?’
Pyrgus couldn’t meet his eyes. ‘Cor ahr as seng is door,’ he muttered.
‘You were what?
‘I was seeing his daughter,’ Pyrgus said.