I had to look twice before my brain caught up with my eyes. Then I looked at my hands and, no, it wasn't me creating that shifting luminescence. That meant only one thing.
My scramble down the ladder may have been ungainly and noisy, but the clatter was easily drowned out by the thundering waterfall, which also meant my attempts to attract Blackbird's attention went unheard. I had to make sure that the light from Blackbird's torch did not give us away.
I made it to the bottom and then had to fumble in my pocket for my torch. The ledge was narrow and it was still pitch dark. The torch tangled in my pocket and I wrenched at it to pull it free. My fingers were slimy from the ladder and as it came free it slipped out of my fingers and bounced on the bricks at my feet then skidded over the edge and vanished into the dark water below. I swore.
There was no time to see where it had gone. I used my hands to feel my way along the clammy wall, stepping sideways towards Blackbird. I could see the glimmer now on the tunnel ceiling over the gantry. It was getting stronger.
I shuffled towards the place where Blackbird was examining the wall with her torch. I daren't go any faster for fear of losing my footing. I finally reached her and tugged at her coat. "Blackbird, we have to get out of here!"
"What's the matter? Where's your torch?"
"I dropped it."
"Already?"
"Turn yours off. There's someone coming."
She turned off the torch. "Where did you drop it? "
"Never mind. Look." I pointed upwards to the glow building above the gantry.
"Why didn't you say?" She started shifting along the ledge.
"I was trying to. You were more interested in the torch." The light was growing over the gantry and starting to illuminate the vaulted ceiling.
"There's no time. In here." Blackbird dragged me into one of the alcoves created by the vaulting. The alcove was shallow and we crammed into the limited shadows created by the supporting pillar.
The light grew brighter and then spilled out over the water. I pressed in alongside Blackbird.
I leaned forward. There were two figures standing on the gantry. One of them was a blank silhouette against the dark, a wraithkin like me. I pressed myself in again. "How many?" Blackbird whispered against my chest. "There are two, a wraithkin and one other. The other looks normal enough. "
"Can you see what they're doing?"
I leaned forward again slowly. Blackbird tugged at my sleeve. "Don't let them see you."
"I know. I won't."
I leaned out again to peak around the pillar. The two were still on the gantry with the normal-looking one making grand gestures towards the central island and the anvil. The conversation was quite animated, but we were too far away to overhear them.
"They're arguing."
"What about?"
"I don't know."
"Let me see." She leaned forward across me while I leaned back against the wall.
"They're coming down."
"Shit! Can we hide?"
"Not with magic. Your first use of it would give us away like a beacon."
"Then let's run for it."
"We'd never make it. If it comes to it, jump into the water and let the flow carry you downstream to the weir. Try and stay underwater for as long as you can."
"I can't swim."
"What?"
"I never learned."
She pulled back and the glint from her eyes in the dark told me she was looking at me. "Well it's never too late to start. Just try not to drown and let the water carry you. "
"Can we fight them?"
"Can you? I can't. At least one of them is wraithkin and that doesn't bode well for the other. "
"I don't know. What do I have to do?"
"If you don't know, it's too late to start teaching you now."
"I thought you said it was never-"
She pressed her free hand against my mouth, silencing me. As soon as she did I could hear the voices. "…of inspection. We were simply asked to check it was intact." The first voice was bold and arrogant. "Yes, and it is." The second voice dwelled on esses in a way that was hauntingly familiar. "Well now we have seen it, can we go?"
"It was your choice, Raffmir, to come in your true form." The words were slow and slurred as if the speaker couldn't form the words properly.
"And yours, sister, to wear that sham you call a body."
"It serves a purpose, for now. I travel in my own form when the need arises."
I knew that second voice now. It had stood outside my bedroom door and called me brother.
As the wraithkin moved towards us, the shadows shrank and we were forced into the narrow space next to the pillar. I slid around to face the corner and Blackbird edged into the narrow space between me and the wall.
The wraithkin's back came into view and I pressed into Blackbird. Glancing sideways, I could clearly see the nimbus around his hand where his sleeve drew back as he gestured, only emptiness within. He looked like a hole in the world.
"Are you satisfied now, sister? Can we go?"
"The lock is untouched, the seals unbroken. And yet I sense a presence."
Blackbird's hand sought mine, her fingers squeezing readying me to jump into the water. Between us, the stone pendant around my neck pulsed into warmth. It found a rhythm, matching my heartbeat, each beat stronger than the last. My attention was split between Blackbird's pressure on my hand, the stone pulsing at my breastbone and the dark figure with his back to me.
Raffmir stepped backwards towards us, facing across the water to the anvil. "You can see it is undisturbed. Your senses are distorted by the barrier, my sister. Let us return and relate what we have found. "
"It smells."
"Of course it smells. It's a sewer. What did you expect?" He gestured across to the island and the anvil, throwing his hands wide and narrowly missing my arm.
"I'm surprised you can sense anything close to that. It's giving me a headache."
"The barrier persists."
"Not for much longer."
"You are sure it is failing?"
"Certain of it. There is a worm at the heart of the ritual and each time they repeat it the barrier becomes weaker. Once it fails we shall be free to come and go as we please."
"Then we shall feed." The glee in her voice was chilling.
I knew what she meant when she said feed. I remembered the chilling sounds from my back garden, the screams of "Get it off me!" before they were choked off. "Come, let us go. I can feel this world giving me wrinkles. "
"You are vain, Raffmir."
"Just because you don't get wrinkles, it doesn't mean the rest of us are vain"
"I wasn't talking about the others."
Raffmir stepped back along the ledge and retreated from us, the shadows lengthening. I let out a breath I had not realised I had been holding. We stayed pressed into the alcove while the source of the light climbed back onto the gantry.
We could no longer hear what was being said over the roaring water and the light finally faded down the tunnel. The darkness reasserted itself and was then replaced by the faintest luminescence from the brickwork. They were leaving,
Blackbird made to move out of the shadows, but I squeezed her hand hard and she stopped.
"What?"
"Can't you feel it?"
"What?"
"She's waiting up there."
"What for?"
"Us."
I leaned sideways very gently to peer around the pillar. The light was vanishing over the gantry, but in the shadow that remained there was a dark shape outlined. I eased back. "She's on the gantry."
We stayed where we were and the light grew again. He was coming back. I wondered what it was I was sensing and whether she sensed it too. Should we throw ourselves in the water now, while they were furthest away, or wait and see what happened? I didn't fancy my chances in that dark water, not while there was a choice.
Light flickered across the vaulted ceiling and rolled out over the pool again as he joined her. I took a chance and looked around the pillar. He was addressing her back, but she was leaning on the rail over the gantry, as if she was listening for something.
"Does she know we're here?" Blackbird whispered close to my ear.
"I don't know. She knows something's here. Maybe she's spotted my torch."
"Where is it?"
"It fell in the water next to the waterfall. It was switched on. She may be able to see it from the gantry. "
"Oh, Rabbit. If they come back down the ladder, we're going for the water. "
"Can they catch us?"
"Raffmir may be able to reach us with gallowfyre. If he can, we're lost."
We stayed still, the strange shifting light exaggerated by the reflections from the roiling water. The warm heartbeat of the stone against my breastbone contrasted with the cold seeping from the bricks. The source of the light didn't move, but I began to wonder if that shambling figure wasn't using the light to climb back down the ladder and explore the recesses, searching for the source of her unease.
Blackbird had said that just a touch of the spreading rot would be enough. How would we see it spreading over the walls and roof in the shadows? Was it running across the bricks, even now? I sniffed the air, trying to detect the sharp, fetid odour that accompanied the darkspore. Against the background smell of the sewer, it was well masked. The prospect of the dark flows beneath us were more appealing by the second.
Finally I could stand it no more and I leaned out again to peek around the pillar. The two figures were still on the gantry. Then Raffmir stood and stretched, and the other figure pushed back from the rail and ambled past him, the walk not quite human, as if having a jointed limbed body was awkward and unfamiliar.
I watched as the light faded under the arched ceiling.
Perhaps, finally, they had given up and gone.
"I think they've left."
"Are you sure?"
"I don't know. The stone's still pulsing."
"What stone?"
"The one Megan gave me. It's around my neck."
Blackbird pulled her hand from mine and the stone flared with heat and then slowly cooled.
"It's not the wraithkin that's doing that, it's me."
I looked down at her, still tucked into the corner in front of me,
"I don't understand."
She lifted her chin and there was something in her eyes, even in the darkness. It was a faint inner glow, like a green ember dying with a core of inner heat. Her eyes held something I didn't recognise, defiance maybe. "What?" I asked her.
"We need to go, while we have the chance."
She was avoiding my question. What did it mean when the stone reacted like that? Next time I saw Megan, I would ask her. I leaned out again, searching for any sign of them. "I think they've really gone this time. "
"Can you feel her?"
I listened to the inner sense. "I think she's gone. Come on, we'll go downstream."
"We have to get over to the other side. The exit is over there and there are no crossings further down. "
"I am not going up on that gantry."
"I thought you said they'd gone? "
"Yes, but for how long?"
"Fine, then you'll have to jump across like me. It's not that hard."
"I can't get any nearer to the anvil. Can't you feel it? It's like sitting under a thunder cloud."
"You tell me then." Exasperation rang in her tone. "How are you going to get to the other ledge? "
"Perhaps I could climb across the weir, further down?"
"Perhaps you could fall in the water and demonstrate your swimming skills?"
I looked again at where the anvil sat humming in the dark. It had the same quality as the gates at Australia House, only much, much worse. There was a brooding malevolence about it and I knew if I went near it, spite would leap across the air and strike me down. I would not be able to cross via the island, even if I could make the leap. "I'll cross at the gantry. Meet me on the other side. "
"Before we go, we should take a quick look at the door in the wall."
I hesitated, but it was what we had come for. "Can I use your torch?"
"I'll shine it for you, butterfingers." I could hear the smile in her voice in the darkness.
We edged back along the ledge to where the dark rectangle showed in the brickwork. It was like an iron safe, set into the wall. The frame had rusted where the damp of the brickwork had leached at it, but the door itself was solid black iron. There was a small square keyhole in the centre.
"It looks pretty solid, doesn't it?" I commented to Blackbird.
"She said it was sealed and that the seals were intact. I wonder what she meant?"
The door was a mere echo of the malevolence of the anvil. Nevertheless, I didn't fancy touching it. "What do you think is inside?"
"Whatever it is, no Fey was meant to reach it."
There was no handle and no other hole I could see. If the square hole were a keyhole, I couldn't see how it turned.
"We should go," I insisted, "before they change their minds and come back for another look.
"I agree. Go and check the gantry is clear. I'll wait for you here and then jump across."
"Why can't you check the gantry?"
"You're the one who insists on using it. I prefer to use the island."
I looked towards the island and then the gantry, both obscure in the dark.
"Can I borrow your torch?"
"What, and lose the only light we have between us? I think it would be better if I looked after it, don't you? "
"I can make light."
"Yes, and that will bring back Raffmir and his sister back faster than anything else. Just get on with it, before they come back."
Reluctantly I sidled my way around to the gantry and then felt my way onto the slimy ladder. I climbed it looking upwards unable to tell whether anything lurked in the shadows above, waiting for me to poke my head over. Thankfully nothing was.
I crossed the gantry carefully, as swiftly as I could, and lowered myself down the ladder on the other side. My descent was more elegant this time and I soon joined the dimly lit figure of Blackbird who had skipped lightly and lithely across the gaps below, belying her pensioner's appearance.
I joined her in the ring of torchlight and we made our way back along the ledge downstream. Once we were clear of the anvil hall the noise of the water diminished. "What did Raffmir mean about the barrier?" I asked Blackbird as she shifted our remaining torch between illuminating the path forward and making sure I didn't step on something slippery.
"I told you that the Untainted live in a world apart and they can cross into our world. You've seen that they can take over the body of someone gifted who is newly dead and also that they can also cross like Raffmir, as themselves. There was a time when they could only cross at certain times of the year, near the equinoxes or at a solstice, the times when things are balanced. "
"And now they cross all the time?"
"Not all the time, but their crossings have become more frequent and over a longer period."
"He said the barrier was weakening," I reminded her. "You know, it's strange. Kareesh taught me about the Feyre and about Fey history. It's not a written record like human history; it's wound up in stories of great deeds and terrible disasters the Feyre tell to their children and their grandchildren. She never mentioned a barrier against the Untainted, though. You'd think she would have done."
"A barrier would make sense. The Seventh Court take themselves off to their other world and the rest of the Feyre bolt the door after them."
"So where are the tales of this deed?" she asked. "Where are the names of those powerful enough to seal the gap between the worlds? It must have taken the combined efforts of more than one court, perhaps even all of them, to create a barrier that would withstand the Seventh Court. You'd think they would be proud of such an achievement."
She held the torch steady for me while I edged past the weir.
"Maybe it wasn't the Feyre that did it," I suggested. "You said hazel and iron were both symbolic for the Feyre. Maybe the Quit Rents Ceremony has something to do with it? Maybe it was humanity that sealed the barrier against the Seventh Court?"
"No, that's a human tradition. Humanity doesn't have any magic of its own, unless…"
"What?"
"They wouldn't have, would they?
"Wouldn't what?"
"What if the Six Courts cheated?"
"What do you mean?"
"What do the Six Courts have that the Seventh doesn't? What's the difference between them? "
"Humanity, I guess. The Seventh Court doesn't have anything to do with humans. "
"Precisely!"
We reached the stairway up to the access door and began climbing the steps up to the surface. We emerged into daylight and walked down to the pool in the open courtyard so we could wash our hands. I dipped them into the chilly water and scrubbed them together to remove the slimy residue. A curious goldfish came to investigate the cloudy water, and then flicked its tail and vanished as soon as it came near the discoloured water from my hands.
"So the Six Courts have humans and the Seventh doesn't. So what?"
"The Six Courts knew any barrier made by them could eventually be undermined by the Seventh. A barrier made with Fey magic could be broken with Fey magic. "
"So they got their humans to do it?"
"Perhaps initially, yes. They made the barrier, symbolised by hazel and iron and sealed it in an annual rite so it would be continually reinforced. Then they got humanity to carry out the ritual for them, so none of the Courts could break it."
"That works for the Feyre, but why would humanity take on such a duty? From their point of view, one lot of Feyre are as bad as another. Why would they take sides? Better to let them all kill each other. "
"Hmm, you're right. What's in it for them? Still, if the barrier fails then we're all in trouble. You heard Raffmir's sister. Once the barrier comes down she and her friends intend to feed and I'm guessing it won't just be other Feyre they're preying on."
"Well, for the moment we have the advantage that we know what they're up to."
"That's just it, though. We don't, do we? All we know is that Raffmir said there is a worm at the heart of the ritual and the barrier will fail because of it. If the ritual is the Quit Rents Ceremony then what's wrong with it? You said they're still doing it, even after all this time. So where's the worm?"
"We have to speak to the Queen's Remembrancer. Maybe he will know what's wrong with it?" I glanced at my watch. "It's gone two o'clock. We could go back and talk to the nice receptionist. She was going to check the dates of the ceremony, so maybe we can turn that into an introduction?"
I shook the remaining water from my hands and Blackbird and I wound our way back through the alleys and courtyards to the Strand and the Royal Courts of Justice.
I was more confident about approaching the security station this time, now that I had managed to maintain my glamour for a while. Blackbird was right, after a time you got used to it and didn't give it a thought. I emptied my pockets into the trays for the scanner and went through the metal detectors.
"Let me handle this," I suggested to Blackbird.
She gave me a sceptical look, but conceded. I moved up to the reception desk where the same lady was typing at her computer. She looked up as I approached the desk.
"Hi, honey, did you want me to find out those dates for you now?"
"Actually, I was wondering whether it would be possible to have a chat with the Queen's Remembrancer. "
"You want to make an appointment?" She reached for the telephone.
"Well, we were really just hoping for a quick word, if he or she is available."
"He's usually quite booked up, I'm afraid. The Remembrancer is only a ceremonial role and his other duties take up most of his time. Would you like me to talk to his clerk and see if he can slot you in later in the week? "
"Hmmm. Not really. It's kind of urgent, in a historical way. Is there any possibility you could have a word with his clerk and see if we could have five or ten minutes now? I would really appreciate it."
She peered at me over her glasses. "This is highly irregular, but I suppose there's no harm in asking. Who shall I say wants to see him?"
I realised I was going to have to give my name and we were still only ten feet from the security station where the guards were scanning the belongings of people returning from lunch. "It's Niall… Niall Dobson." I borrowed my ex-wife's surname in a moment of inspiration, "and this is my friend…" I ran out of steam as I realised the only name I had for my companion wouldn't do for this occasion either.
"Veronica." Blackbird stepped forwards. "Doctor Veronica Delemere. I'm with the University of London at Birkbeck."
I glanced sideways at Blackbird and then back to the receptionist, who gave me a look that said she wasn't impressed by University types. Nevertheless she picked up the phone and dialled a rapid sequence of digits. "Claire? Claire, it's Marcie. I have a couple of visitors who would like to speak with the Queen's Remembrancer about his duties. One of them is from Birkbeck and the other is from…?" She looked up at me. "I'm just an interested amateur," I demurred.
"He says he's an amateur, but he's very charming." She smiled at me in a conspiratorial way. "Yes, I know he's busy, but they only want fifteen minutes and they say it's urgent." She paused to listen.
"I know, I know, but they just wondered if he would meet them. They claim it's about something historically interesting. Ten minutes would do? You know how he is about his history." There was a pause. "Sure, I'll wait." She whispered to me. "She's just checking."
"We really are very grateful for your help."
"Oh, that's OK. He loves historical things, especially if there's a mystery. There is a mystery, isn't there? "
"Oh yes," I nodded. "It's a mystery all right." I glanced at Blackbird.
Marcie's attention was drawn back to the phone.
"That's great. I'll send them up." She put the phone back on the cradle. "She says you can go on up now. Just don't try and sell him something or you'll get me in a world of trouble. You see that balcony there and the archway below it? Go up the stairway and turn to your right at the top. Go down the corridor and Claire will be waiting for you. Don't get lost. "
"We won't, and thanks."
"No trouble, honey. Turn to your right, remember. I hope you find what you're looking for. "
"I hope so too."
I turned to follow her directions, Blackbird at my side. "Charming, huh? It looks like you have a fan there," she suggested.
"Doctor Veronica Delemere of the University, eh?" I countered.
"Well I can hardly be called Doctor Blackbird at the University, can I?"
We went to the archway and found a stone stairway leading upwards. There were lots of signs directing you to one court or another, but we ignored these. The stone stairway had white stripes painted on the edge of each step and a dark wooden handrail. They were quite steep. We turned right, as instructed, walking down the corridor past the courtrooms.
Waiting there was a petite brunette with short straight hair. She didn't see us until we were quite close and I wondered whether she was seriously shortsighted. Her jacket and skirt were dark and sober and she looked all business. She thrust out her hand at me, rather aggressively. "Claire Radisson. Pleased to meet you."
"Hello, I'm Niall Dobson and this is Veronica Delemere."
Claire shook our hands in short tight gestures. "Perhaps you'd like to come through?"
She turned on her kitten heels and marched off down the corridor, plainly expecting to be followed. We hurried along behind.
"There are so many people who want His Lordship's time and only so many hours in the day. It would only be possible to give you a few moments, I am sure you understand." She implied that there was no room for compromise. There was something else here, though. Deception rang in her tone.
"Of course, we will be brief," Blackbird reassured her, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow.
She walked down the corridor and then turned off to the left, stepping past a doorway and ushering us into a neat ante-office with a desk and bookshelves. Small touches like a floral tissue box and the handbag placed on the cupboard behind the desk led me to believe that this was her space. There was a further set of double doors that remained closed. I figured that in order to gain access to the inner sanctum we would need to satisfy her that our business was worthy of his lordship's time.
"Perhaps you'd like to tell me what this is all about?" She moved around the desk, putting it between her and us.
"It's concerning the duties of the Queen's Remembrancer and the Quit Rents Ceremony. We would like to ask His Lordship a few questions, if that's possible. "
"I'm afraid he has a full schedule. Can you be more specific?" Again, I was sure she wasn't telling us the truth. Perhaps she was just checking to see if we were wasting his time?
"We're interested in changes," Blackbird expanded, "the way the ceremony may have developed over time. "
"And you've spoken to him about this earlier? "
"No, but you already know that, surely?"
She gave a brittle laugh. "I'm afraid that, as His Lordship's clerk, I only deal with his business affairs. Do you know him personally?"
There was a lot of dissembling going on here, but we needed to get past that and speak to the man himself. "No, we've not met him before," I said. "So, would it be possible to have a few words with him, if he has a moment he could spare us?" I hoped I was being as charming as Marcie had made me out to be. "I'm afraid that won't be possible." This time there was no deception.
"But Marcie said she was sure you would be able to find a slot for us. We only need a few minutes. "
"You misunderstand me; you can't see him because he isn't here. He was at a late briefing last night until about ten o'clock. He left in good spirits at about halfpast ten." She looked from Blackbird to me. "He hasn't been seen since."
Fourteen
Claire looked from one of us to the other. "I was hoping your 'urgent matter' might provide some explanation as to where he might be." Claire was gauging our reaction to the news that the Remembrancer was missing. Is that what the deception was all about? Did she think we were responsible?
"No, we were hoping to meet him to speak with him about the ceremony," I explained.
"Then I am afraid you will be disappointed. He's not here."
"When you say he's not here, you were expecting him, yes?" Blackbird suggested.
"He has appointments in his diary but he hasn't come in this morning. As I am sure you can imagine I have a hundred things to re-arrange, so if you wouldn't mind…? "
"Have you rung his home?" Blackbird asked.
"Look, I don't know what business it is of yours, but-" The phone rang on her desk. She glanced down at the display and then picked it up.
"If you would excuse me for a moment?" She turned away, cradling the phone close to her shoulder. "Hello, Elizabeth? No, there's been no word." She paused.
"I've checked with the hospitals and there's no one matching his description. I'm sure if there'd been an accident we would have heard by now." She listened to the caller.
"No, look I'm sure it's nothing. He'll turn up, just wait and see. I have some people with me at the minute but I'll call you the moment there's any word, I promise. Yes, straight away. Promise. Bye."
She turned back to us and put the phone down.
Blackbird turned to me. "He didn't get home then. That's not good."
"Do you think that's our worm?" I asked her.
"It could be, though from the way it was said I got the impression that the worm has been there for some time. It's not a recent thing."
"Would you mind," asked Claire, "continuing this conversation elsewhere? As I have already told you, the Remembrancer isn't here and as I am sure you can appreciate, I have a busy day ahead of me."
Blackbird asked Claire, "Has he had any strange visitors? Has anyone unusual come to call?"
"Look, the police will be here shortly. I am sure they're capable of sorting this out. Now if you wouldn't mind…"
"Anyone who appeared drunk? Or slow?" Blackbird persisted.
"No, now look, I really… What do you mean, drunk? "
"Someone that slurred their words and seemed uncoordinated, maybe?" I suggested.
"Anyone asking about the ceremony?" Blackbird added.
Claire looked between the two of us. We suddenly had her attention.
"There have been phone calls, just recently," she told us, "that sounded as if the person calling were drunk. I put them down as prank calls."
"Did the person sound is if they were calling internationally, over a long distance?" Blackbird asked. "What do you know about this?" Claire demanded. Blackbird ignored the question. "Did they ask about the ceremony?"
"Oh God, the ceremony." Claire ran her fingers back through her hair in an unconscious gesture. "Well, hopefully he'll have turned up by then. We can put it back a day or two, but-"
"But it must go ahead," Blackbird finished for her.
She gave Blackbird a very direct look but confirmed it. "The ceremony will have to go ahead, regardless. It's been a continuous unbroken sequence for centuries. Now I really am sorry, but that is as much time as I can spare you right now. If you'd like to come back when His Lordship is here then perhaps he will spare you the time to go through this with you, but in the circumstances I'm sure you can see that we have other priorities."
I suspected she knew more, but she had no reason to tell us anything..
"Marcie said that we might come to the ceremony. Is that still possible?"
"Yes, it was originally planned for next Tuesday but the date may change now, of course. If you contact reception at the beginning of next week, they should be able to confirm dates by then."
"Can you arrange another Remembrancer by then?" Blackbird queried.
"Hopefully we won't need to."
Blackbird looked at me and then at Claire. "I think you may need to arrange a substitute."
"I get the impression that you two know more about this than you're letting on." She gave Blackbird a steely stare, but Blackbird was a match for her. "Likewise," she answered.
"Would it help," I offered, "if I said that we'll do anything we can to assist?"
"Thank you, but unless you know where His Lordship is, I don't think you can help."
We had reached stalemate. She wasn't going to budge, even though I was sure there was more she could tell us. Something had to shift, and it wasn't going to be her.
Blackbird turned to me. "I don't think there's any more we can do here. The ceremony will go ahead with or without the Remembrancer."
"But the worm?"
Blackbird shrugged. "Ms Raddison, the police aren't going to be able to help you. If you want to find your Remembrancer then you're going to have to trust us. "
"I don't have to trust anyone," she said firmly.
"Very well," said Blackbird. "Come on Niall, we have things to do."
"But what about the worm?" I said.
"I can't make her help us. Come on."
She walked out of the office. I gave Claire a helpless look and followed. I caught up with her in the corridor. "Where are we going? We need to know what's wrong with the ceremony."
"Don't worry," she said quietly. "She'll call us back by the time we reach the stairs."
We reached the stairs and looked back. There was no sign of Claire.
"Maybe we should go back?"
"Maybe that isn't your path," Blackbird said, and took the stairs down.
I followed her down into the vaulted hall below and we headed for the exit.
"Do you have a plan? Is there another way to find out?"
"We need to look for the next part of your vision. With that we can move forward."
"I don't even know which is the next part. It could be any of them."
"We're not getting anywhere with her. There must be another way." We went through the exit gate, back out through the high stone doorway into the sunshine.
"So where now?"
As we exited into the road, one of the security guards came through the entrance and called after us. "Excuse me? Sorry, were you with Miss Raddison a moment ago?" We stopped. "We were," said Blackbird.
"She called down. She says you left something in her office."
"Did she? Then I guess we'd better come back for it." Blackbird smiled at me. "Told you."
"You weren't sure," I said to her, but she just smiled. We repeated the ritual with the scanners and then made our way back up to Claire's office. She was waiting for us.
"Perhaps," she said, "we could try again?"
"That depends on whether you can help us," Blackbird said, "so that we can help you."
"If there's something you know, something that could help us find Jerry, I would like to know it."
"Let's go back to the phone calls," said Blackbird. "They have a hollow quality, as if the speaker is in a large room, or on speaker-phone, don't they?" Claire's expression didn't change.
"The speaker's voice is strange and slurred, drunk even, and there's a delay, like on international long distance."
She still didn't say anything.
"There's something about them that doesn't sound like a phone call. The etiquette is all wrong. How am I doing?"
"Go on," she allowed.
"These aren't the normal enquiries – 'Would His Lordship be available for such and such a date or this or that event?' – these are odd calls, as if the caller isn't used to telephones."
Claire cleared her throat. "The first time it happened, it completely caught me out. It was Monday, I think, and we were dreadfully busy. I picked up the phone and said hello. It was an internal number, you see?" She glanced at the phone on her desk.
"The caller asked, 'What does the Remembrancer remember?' There was no greeting, just the question. I think I said 'I beg your pardon?' and the caller said, 'What does he want?' They slurred their esses and it was difficult to understand them. I said 'What does who want?' wondering whether they were drunk. The caller said, 'The Remembrancer, what does he want?' I asked them who was calling and they put the phone down. The thing was, right through the call, there was an engaged tone in the background as if the lines were crossed. I put it down to a fault on the line. "
"But it happened again," Blackbird prompted.
"This time it was another voice, more confident and not slurred, but still odd. It was another internal call so I just picked up the phone and said 'Claire speaking' and the caller laughed, like it was funny."
I looked at Blackbird, but she was focused on Claire. "The voice said 'The ceremony is cancelled this year, Claire.' I knew it was the same kind of thing because the engaged tone was in the background again, so I said 'Who is this?' The laughter started again and then something was wrong with the power because the lights went dim as if the voltage had dropped. I slammed the phone down."
"And the lights came back on?" Blackbird suggested. She nodded.
"That's just as well. What happened then?"
"I asked Marcie to trace the call. It was obviously somebody playing pranks, but I didn't think it was funny. All calls for the courts are logged and tracked, for departmental billing and for security. "
"What did it show?"
"It came back with 'extension unregistered'. We had the phone people check into it, but they said it was some sort of external line fault, so we were no wiser. "
"Have they called back again?"
"No, but the second call was only yesterday. How did you know what happened?"
"I saw it before," said Blackbird, "a long time ago." Her words made me think of a little girl, curled in a corner, watching a dark shape speak into a mirror. "Would His Lordship have come back here last night? Could he have picked up a call?" I asked.
"He may have done. The calls go through to his office if I'm not here."
"Have you been in his office today?" asked Blackbird.
"Yes, several times."
"Can I take a look?"
"You can look, but he's not in there."
Blackbird went to the double doors and pushed one open, standing in the doorway to observe the room. Satisfied that it was indeed empty, she stepped through. I stood in the doorway behind her. She walked around the large desk with its dark, polished surface and green leather inlay, the walls stacked with row upon row of legal texts. She slowly circled the office, drawing her forefinger across the polished surfaces. "Not here," she said.
"I told you he wasn't there," said Claire, from over my shoulder.
That wasn't what she meant. She meant he hadn't died there.
I stepped back into the ante-office and she came after me and pulled the door closed behind her.
"If you get another call like that, put the telephone down straight away. Don't speak to them, don't listen to them. Just put the phone down, OK?"
She nodded. "Do you have any idea what happened to him?"
"Perhaps. When did you speak to him last?"
"Yesterday. He had an evening engagement and I left him to it. He never went home. His wife is frantic with worry and calling here every ten minutes. I've already called all the hospitals and alerted the police, but there's no sign of him. I was sort of hoping your historical mystery might have something to do with it. He's a keen historian. It's possible he went off on some wild goose chase. "
"Does he do that a lot?"
"No, nothing like this has happened before. That's what's so worrying. What if he's been kidnapped or something? We deal with all sorts here, organised criminals, gangs, murderers, everything. The police are coming in an hour or so to talk to me, but there have been no demands or ransom. In the absence of anything else, I think they're hoping he'll just turn up." Blackbird glanced at me. It must have crossed her mind, as it had mine, that if one of the Seventh Court had been outside my door last night then they might have been in other places too.
"If you don't find him, the ceremony will still go ahead?" Blackbird asked her.
"It won't be the first time we've had to improvise to make sure it happens, but yes, it will go ahead. "
"So the ceremony has changed?" I asked her.
"The ceremony has been conducted under the offices of the Queen's Remembrancer for almost eight hundred years and is virtually identical to how it was originally performed. Even the words are identical, if a little archaic. In every respect, the ceremony is legally identical to the ones carried out in the thirteenth century. "
"But you said you'd had to improvise," I challenged. "You can't be using the same horseshoes that were used eight hundred years ago, surely?"
"Actually, the shoes are the originals and are the oldest horseshoes known to be in existence. There have been some minor changes, though, of course. Countless different people have been involved in performing the ceremony and some of the items have had to be renewed, but in every respect it is as identical as we can make it to the ceremonies performed in the reign of King John."
"Which of the items have had to be renewed?" asked Blackbird.
"Why are you so interested in this?"
"It's possible," Blackbird said, "that changes in the ceremony have something to do with your missing Remembrancer."
"Then you should inform the police. Anything that can help to find him…"
"The police aren't going to find him, Claire."
"Then you know what's happened to him? If you do…"
"No. But there are things here that the police can't deal with. We can try to help you but you have to help us too. There is a great deal at stake."
Claire looked from one of us to the other. "What do you want from me?" she asked.
"We need to know what has changed in the ceremony. I can't tell you when it changed because we don't know, but something changed at some point, maybe in the last hundred years or so and it may have a lot to do with why your boss didn't make it home last night." She folded her arms, chewing her lip as she considered our request. "And this will help to find Jerry? "
"It may explain what has happened to him," Blackbird offered.
Claire weighed that. "Come through into the office. I'll bring you what I have."
She brushed past us and opened the doors to the Remembrancer's office. She brought two chairs forward from the wall and we were invited to sit across from the empty chair of the absent owner. Claire disappeared for a few moments, and then returned with a rectangular bundle wrapped in soft black cloth. She unfolded it on the desk, revealing a thick brown leather-bound book. "This is the Journal of the Queen's Remembrancer, or at least the latest version of it. The earlier ones are in the restricted archives of the Public Record Office at Kew. This one is from about 1870 onwards." She smiled apologetically. "The duties of the Remembrancer were made largely ceremonial after the Queen's Remembrancer's Act of 1859."
She slid the book towards us. "Please be careful with it, it's quite delicate. There are some cotton gloves here," she glanced at me, "but they're probably too big for your hands." She passed them to Blackbird who was clearly a more suitable person, in her eyes, to be handling valuable documents.
The leather binding of the journal showed its age and use. Each hand that had held it over the years had added to the smoothness of the leather until there were two burnished patches, one on each side, where you might naturally hold it to lay it out to write. Blackbird slipped the soft cotton gloves on and moved the book in front of her. I stood up and moved behind her so I could look over her shoulder.
The book was a little smaller than a standard letter size and creaked when it opened. She turned to a page indicated by a length of red ribbon sewn into the binding. There were rows of neat script. Each short entry described an event, the annual Trial of the Pyx being one, but there were others. Each had a date, written out in long-hand, the nature of the event and a list of those present. Some small details of the event were recorded and, occasionally comments were added about some aspect of the duties or roles performed.
On the previous page was the entry for the last year's Quit Rents Ceremony. It detailed the attendees, including the City of London's Comptroller and Solicitor and various representatives of the Corporation of London. Certain attendees were starred, though why they were picked out wasn't obvious. Blackbird leafed slowly backwards through the volume, finding almost identical entries for each year of the ceremony. After we had gone back about fifteen years, the hand changed to a more circular script, but the entries remained the same. Each year the knives were submitted and the horseshoes and nails counted. A response of good service for the knives or good number for the nails was given in return. The formalities of the ceremony were completed and the entry ended with some benign comment about an amusing address or ceremonial presentation.
Blackbird leafed back to 1945 and then slowed. I realised she was checking to see if the ceremony had been disrupted by the war, but there were the entries again, good service and good number for each year between
1939 and 1945. We went back again, stepping slowly back in time. I came to understand that the role of Remembrancer lasted between ten and twenty years, almost regardless of what happened in the world at the time. There was one script that lasted only three ceremonies and I could imagine some illness overtaking the person, particularly as the hand became more difficult to read until it was passed to a smaller, neater hand that wrote in precise rows of near identical characters that were more difficult to decipher than the hand that had preceded it.
The First World War was the same. There was no indication of the carnage going on in Flanders, just entries for each year, notes of visiting dignitaries and acknowledgement of the service and the number.
Claire stood up and went to the door. "I'll be just a moment," she said, unsure about leaving us alone with the book. "I have something else to show you." She slipped out of the room, leaving Blackbird and I to leaf through the faded pages.
"It's like a heartbeat," I commented, more to myself than to Blackbird.
"This is it, Rabbit. This is the ritual. Don't you see?" Despite her calm outward appearance, I realised from her tone of voice that she was excited.
"The City of London isn't the same as London, the city. It has defined boundaries, its own Mayor, a corporation to manage its affairs and it is founded on the one thing humanity will protect to the end: wealth. What did the leaflet say? This is the oldest legal ceremony in England other than the coronation. Here you have the link between the kings of thirteenth century England and the legal system that preserved the existence of the monarchy into the present day."
"It's not perfect protection, though, is it?" I remarked. "The French overthrew their monarchy and founded a republic. We had periods where the position of the king or queen was very precarious. Anything could have happened."
"But it didn't, did it? Even Cromwell didn't succeed in removing the monarchy permanently. Maybe there was more than one reason for restoring the monarch to the throne."
"I don't think there's any way of…What's that?"
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled and before I realised it I was upright. Blackbird stood, her chin coming up, almost as if she was almost scenting the air. Tension built in the room like the moment before a lightning strike and I found myself backing away from the doorway.
"I thought you might like to see this. It's not really… Is something wrong?" Claire entered through the half open door carrying a small bundle. Wrapped in a soft black cloth, I could see heat-haze writhing off it like poisonous dark fumes. Blackbird backed away with an expression of tight distaste on her face. I couldn't get enough oxygen. The presence of the object was suffocating. "What is it?" Blackbird asked.
"It's the Quick Knife," Claire said. "And I'm afraid it's broken."