When Blackbird first showed me the Ways, the means to travel far across country on a wave of power, I was blown away by it. I was expecting the same reaction from Alex.
All she said was, "S'OK."
We travelled slowly, one Way-node at a time, in the knowledge that both of us were exhausted, both emotionally and physically. I shepherded her through each point until we arrived at the High Courts of the Feyre, not knowing what to expect when we reached our destination. Where else could I go?
I couldn't return to the guest house with my daughter in tow, not without first establishing what had happened after I left. Had they found the boat? Was Shelley OK? What about the missing men? Were the police involved? I needed somewhere safe, not an inquisition.
The house in the woods had burned and there was no way I could take Alex back to her mother, even if her house wasn't still being watched. There were too many questions to answer there too. We would have to answer them in due course, but not now, not tonight.
The High Courts had once said that they would accept my daughter if she inherited my fey bloodline.
That was a promise and the Feyre kept their promises.
I was relying on it.
We arrived at the Way-node under the High Courts of the Feyre, not knowing what welcome we would receive, whether I was still a Warder and if I had any right to be there at all.
Unsure what reception I would receive from the other Warders when they found out where I had been and what I had done, we arrived cautiously, first me, then Alex. I caught her as she stumbled into me off the node, the rush of adrenalin finally drained from her, her knees shaking from exhaustion.
Slimgrin and Amber were guarding the node.
Slimgrin immediately disappeared upstairs while Amber took the sword from me and simply guided us to the floor against the wall where we could rest, our backs against the stone. It was only then that I noticed that Alex was still wearing the open-backed hospital gown from the test lab. She was practically naked. I put my arm around her and she collapsed across me, her head resting on my chest, her dark curls winding under my hand as I stroked her hair. I could feel her trembling as she breathed.
They could do what they liked. I wasn't moving for anyone.
Then people started arriving. Everyone talked at once. They were all asking me questions. I couldn't hear them, or if I could hear them I didn't know which one to answer first. Was I hurt? Was Alex hurt? Did I know that Altair had gone and taken Raffmir with him? Where had the blood come from? Why hadn't I told them what I intended to do?
"Silence!" Garvin's voice cut across the mayhem.
In the quiet that followed, one figure crept between them, inserting herself under my other arm and resting against me.
Blackbird.
I kissed her head and stroked her shoulder while Garvin gave orders. Rooms were to be prepared, clothes to be provided, food was summoned, Amber was to carry Alex while Tate helped me to my feet.
"No." I held my daughter close as Amber tried to collect the sleeping Alex from me like a floppy child. "Don't take her from me."
Alex's eyes opened suddenly and she grabbed my arm, suddenly aware that we were being separated. Her eyes had a corona of lavender fire and there was a low rumbling from beneath the ground.
"Fionh!" Garvin's voice cut across the murmurs. "Damp it down!"
"I'm trying," said Fionh. "She's strong."
"Ah!" Blackbird wrapped her arms around the bump, curling around it protectively. "The baby! She's hurting the baby!"
The rumbling died in an instant. The look on Alex's face was as if she had been slapped.
"I didn't mean…" she faltered.
Silence filled the gap as I looked from one to the other. Alex looked shocked at what she'd done, but Blackbird looked accusingly at her.
"I wouldn't hurt you or the baby," Alex said.
Garvin's voice cut across it all. "Amber, take Blackbird up to her room. Fionh, take Niall and Alex up to the west wing and find them a suite as far from Blackbird as possible. Slimgrin, go with them."
Blackbird was led away by Amber, while we were half-carried and half-guided along the hall in the other direction and up the stairs to a suite of rooms. Stewards ran around turning back sheets, running baths, bringing towels. We were the centre of a vortex of activity, everything whirling around us.
Garvin told Fionh to take Alex and get her showered and cleaned up.
"Bathroom, Alex," Fionh told her, gently.
Alex stared at her. "Don't…"
"Alex, please," I interjected. "You're covered in blood and dust. No more tonight. Go and get cleaned up. Fionh will help you. She'll look after you."
Alex looked at me and must have seen how close to exhaustion I really was. She lowered her eyes and went with Fionh.
"She's not crazy," I told Garvin.
"She's not in control, either," he answered. "Her emotions are driving her power, making her unpredictable and dangerous. She can't be allowed near Blackbird. Think about it. The baby is floating in water, near enough. It's too dangerous."
"She didn't mean to hurt anyone."
"She doesn't have to mean it."
"She's exhausted. So am I. She'll be better in the morning."
"I've seen this before, Niall, though not with anyone that strong. She has no brakes, no limits. It's all or nothing. Fionh was having trouble damping it down. That's Fionh we're talking about."
"It'll be better tomorrow," I insisted.
"You'd better tell me what happened."
It took several attempts. I kept missing pieces out; the mess with the girls and the boat, finding out that Greg was fey. It was all jumbled up in my head and even when I thought I'd told it all I wasn't sure it made sense.
"Where is the vial now?" asked Garvin.
I pointed to my jacket. "Inside pocket, double wrapped, plastic container."
Tate searched my jacket and came back with the container. He handed it to Garvin who held it up to the light to view the vial of liquid inside.
"Tate, go to Kimlesh and tell her that on the authority of the Warders I seek an immediate audience with the High Court. Get them assembled as soon as possible. Slimgrin, guard these two with Fionh while they get some rest. No one goes in or out without my say-so. Fellstamp, close the Way. No one in or out."
He turned to the diminutive figure of Mullbrook, who had been directing operations among the stewards.
"Mullbrook, if you could get some food inside these people and get Alex some rest. I need Niall dressed and presentable inside twenty minutes. Can you do it?"
"If I have Mr Dogstar's co-operation, that is quite possible," he said, nodding once, slowly.
Garvin glanced at me and I nodded.
"Do it. Get to it, people." He strode out of the room.
Under Mullbrook's supervision, I was taken through a connecting door to another suite, where I showered and then had the multiple slashes and cuts I had acquired when the helicopter exploded cleaned and dressed. My clothes were laid out for me while I wolfed down a freshly cut sandwich of cheddar cheese, black sticky onion chutney and pale green lettuce layered into crusty white bread and washed down with ice-cold water. It was just enough to revive me.
I returned, dressed in new and presentable grey, just in time to kiss my daughter on the forehead as she tucked into the meal of golden breaded chicken, sliced fried potatoes and corncakes in batter, with a side order of chocolate cake. She looked pink and scrubbed and more like herself, but there were dark rings under her eyes. She looked about her warily as if someone might come and take the food away at any moment.
"Don't eat too much, or you won't sleep."
"Dad? Stop nagging me. I'm starving." She stabbed a chip with a fork and devoured it in two bites.
"Fionh, don't let her stuff herself stupid, will you?"
Fionh shrugged, but kept a wary eye on Alex.
"Dad! Leave it, OK?"
"OK. I'll be back in a while. I expect to find you in bed, young lady."
She mumbled something through a mouthful that might have been, "Don't tell me what to do."
"I'm simply stating what I expect to find," I told her.
"Whatever." She waved her hand airily, then collected a second piece of chicken.
I was saved from the debate by the return of Garvin. He looked me up and down.
"You'll do. Come."
With Garvin before me and Slimgrin behind, I was escorted down to the main chamber of the High Court of the Feyre. Tate and Fellstamp were waiting and the Lords and Ladies were already gathered. I was brought before them with minimal formality.
"Tell us," said Krane, leaning forward from his huge dark-wood chair, "about this." He held up the plastic bottle containing the serum.
I made a better job of describing what had happened this time, from the half-breed fey imprisoned in glasswalled cells, to the shotguns loaded with iron shot. The only thing I left out was what my daughter had done to Doctor Watkins's severed head. That was probably better left unreported.
"And you say that Altair was funding this facility?" Teoth asked.
"Yes, my Lord. Raffmir told me the Seventh Court had approved plans and funded it through a series of trusts and foundations."
"Was there any sign of direct involvement from the Seventh Court, or any other Court, for that matter?" asked Barthia.
"What are you implying, Barthia? asked Yonna. "You know none of us had anything to do with this."
"I'm simply asking if there was any sign of direct fey involvement," stated the Ogre.
"None that I saw, my Lady. Everything appears to have been done from a distance."
"I see." She sat back, crossing her massive arms in front of her.
"Are there any more questions for the Warders?" asked Krane.
A slow ripple of shaking heads travelled around the room.
"Very well. Will you leave Fellstamp with us, please, Garvin?" said Krane.
"Yes, my Lord."
I followed Garvin back through the double doors. He closed them gently behind us. Tate was waiting outside. He handed me my sword, sheathed in a new polished scabbard.
I looked at Garvin. "I'm not being kicked out of the Warders, then?"
"Kicked out?" asked Garvin. "Why would you be kicked out?"
"You did tell me not to go after Alex," I admitted.
"I told you not to go until you were ready, but I also gave you Warder's discretion." He guided me down the corridor away from the chamber, flanked by Tate.
"There is no test for becoming a Warder. You train until you're ready and then you're in, straight into the crucible, no rehearsal, no safety net. You act with the full authority of the High Court and, for that reason alone, judgement is paramount."
"But I made such a mess of the situation in Ravensby. I'm still not sure I did the right thing."
"Where there is a clear course of action, where right and wrong are easily established, where the will of the courts is clear, the Warders are almost never needed. All we do is deliver the will of the Courts and they sort it out amongst themselves."
He stopped and turned to face me.
"The Warders are called in when it's messy, when there is no clear solution, or when there are too many solutions, all competing for attention. We are needed when there is no right, only a choice between multiple wrongs; where there is no justice, merely closure. We are called to act when no one else will, when it's already too late. That's what being a Warder means."
"You make it sound so attractive."
"Most Warders are chosen. They do not choose themselves."
"So how did you become a Warder?"
Garvin looked me in the eye and for a moment, I thought I saw a shadow there. Then it was gone.
"That," he said, "is a story for another day." He squeezed my shoulder. "You have done well, and the job is not over yet. The High Court has heard your testimony and must decide what action is merited. Get some rest while you can. I will have someone wake you as soon as I have news."
He gently propelled me towards the stairs and I used the momentum to keep going. There was no resistance left in me. As I mounted the staircase, I found that Tate had detached from Garvin and shadowed me.
When I raised an eyebrow at him he simply said, "The Warders look after each other."
I let him follow me back to the suite where Slimgrin paced the hallway. I found my daughter in bed and already asleep, despite her protests. She was curled under the covers so only her hair restlessly stirred as she slept. I stroked her head and the curls coiled around my fingers and relaxed. winding and unwinding as she breathed.
"She didn't eat much in the end," said Fionh. "I think it was only a show for you."
"How long has she been asleep?" I asked.
Fionh looked at her. "Don't worry, I can handle it. She'll sleep for hours yet, probably well into tomorrow. She is a teenager, after all. Go and check on Blackbird. I can see you want to."
I thanked her and left, Tate falling into step beside me.
"Are you going to follow me everywhere?" I asked him.
"Just until you get where you need to be."
"I'm not sure I know where I need to be any more."
"You'll figure it out."
When we arrived at Blackbird's door, Amber let me in and then left with Tate. Blackbird was in bed, propped up on pillows.
"Is she sleeping?" she asked.
"Yes. It'll be quiet for a while now." I went over and sat on the bed beside her, taking her hand.
"I overreacted," said Blackbird. "She didn't mean to hurt anyone."
"Garvin says she's not in control of her power. I'm inclined to agree. She's going to have to learn to control her temper or she'll end up hurting someone, herself even."
She pulled the quilt back and shuffled to the side of the bed.
"Wouldn't you be better staying where you are?" I asked.
"My back aches wherever I am. It does me good to move around a little." She rolled upright and stood, helping me ease out of my Warder greys, draping them over a chair so I could dress if I needed to, inspecting the gashes and scrapes I had acquired, issuing a gentle rebuke.
"Next time, duck faster."
I smiled as she stroked the knotted muscles in my shoulders and guided me into bed. She prodded me gently across the bed until she could slide in beside me and nestle into my shoulder, resting her belly against my flank. The bump gave a desultory kick, a token protest, but then moved and settled against me.
Blackbird stroked my chest and hushed me when I tried to speak, pressing her fingertips against my lips to silence me. In the quiet grace of her comfort, I rested, and slept.
The hand that shook me awake was calloused and not nearly as soft as Blackbird's. Tate's grizzled face looked down at me.
"You awake?"
"Sure, I'm awake. What's up?"
"I've been shaking you for two minutes." The lie was obvious.
"I thought you were rocking me in my sleep."
He grinned. "You're awake. Get dressed. Garvin wants you downstairs. Five minutes."
"Five?"
"He said two, but I'm stretching the point since you already slept through those."
"OK. Five minutes." I yawned.
Tate left and I extracted myself gently from Blackbird's sleeping form. She mumbled in her sleep, but did not wake. I slipped into my greys, the familiarity of the uniform bringing its own comfort. Taking the pad on the dresser, I scrawled a simple note.
Garvin called. Back Later.
I collected my sword. Slimgrin was standing by the door when I left. He closed the door gently behind me and fell in beside me as we descended the stairs. I glanced sideways at him and he nodded.
"All OK?" I asked him.
He made the signs for sleeping, working and fighting: the fey equivalent of "no rest for the wicked".
Garvin was waiting for us. He made no remark as to whether it had been two minutes or five. As soon as he joined us, he nodded to Fellstamp, who held a door open so that Krane could join us.
"Is everything prepared?" Krane asked Garvin.
"Tate has gone ahead. He will let us know if it's clear."
"Very well. We should go."
Garvin led the way down to the Way-node, while I walked alongside Krane, with Slimgrin and Fellstamp flanking us.
Tate was waiting at the Way. "They have their cordon set up. We've been around their security. It's OK as far as it goes."
"Did they see you?" asked Garvin.
Tate grinned.
"Good. I'll follow you in two minutes. Dogstar, you're next. Then you, Lord Krane. Slimgrin and Fellstamp, bring up the rear."
Tate vanished in a swirl and we waited the full two minutes. Then Garvin stepped forward and whirled away. I followed close behind, using the trail he left to guide me as I slipped around the nodes to our destination. I stepped into a damp dawn of muted birdsong and the smell of mown grass. Overhead, the sky was tinted pink as the sun tried to break through the grey clinging damply to the trees. I stepped off the Way-node where Garvin was waiting. There was the prickle of magic all around us as Garvin turned away curious eyes.
"We're here as Lord Krane's escort. Just act natural. Let him do the talking."
We'd arrived on an open lawn with strange rectangular mounds set into it, like low walls that were knocked down long ago so that the foundations were now subsumed into the grass. Ahead was a large building of toffee-coloured stone with a high pointed roof and tall leaded-glass windows. Through the mist in front of the hall I could see three large black cars. I counted five police officers carrying machine guns. There were more stationed further away at the gate in the high stone wall.
"Are we expecting a fight?" I asked.
Garvin shook his head as Krane arrived and stepped easily sideways. Slimgrin and Fellstamp slipped in behind him. Slimgrin walked away, melting into the mist. Garvin led the way, Krane came behind and I brought up the rear. As we approached the cars, Garvin let the glamour slip away. We were immediately noticed.
The police angled their weapons across their chests in a kind of salute, demonstrating readiness without obvious threat. Krane simply nodded acknowledgment as if it were his due.
A dark-suited man emerged. He ignored Garvin and me.
"Lord Krane, delighted that you could join us." He bowed slightly. "Please come this way."
He walked through an arched set of double doors into a high-arched open hall, with dark ancient beams rising over us and high stone pillars supporting the roof. It was impressive if it was half as old as I thought. What was remarkable about it, though, was not the hall itself but the walls. They were covered in horseshoes of every size and shape. Some were three or four feet across while others looked as if they might genuinely have shod horses. All four walls were adorned in this way, making the room smaller and somehow more intimate.
The man withdrew, closing the double doors behind him. Fellstamp stayed at the doorway.
In the centre of the hall was a modern french-polished table with three matching high-backed chairs arranged along either side. They looked out of place in the ancient setting. Three men were waiting on the opposite side of the room. Two wore dark suits, the other a light-grey suit: two heavies and a bank manager.
The bank manager stepped forward. "In the name of Queen Elizabeth the Second, I bid you welcome to Oakham Castle, Lord Krane, and thank you for coming at such short notice. I am Secretary Carler and I greet you here in good faith."
"Your welcome is appreciated, Secretary Carler. I bring you the felicitations of the Seven Courts and the wish for a speedy resolution to our current troubles, also in good faith."
"The wish for a speedy resolution is reciprocated, I assure you." He smiled the bank manager smile, gesturing to the seats. Carler and Krane sat. The rest of us stood, facing each other.
"I trust the arrangements are satisfactory?" asked the bank manager.
"They are as we expected," said Krane, smiling.
There was something wrong with the sound in the room. I looked about me, searching for the source. It was a kind of hollow reverse echo that preceded anything that was said. Then I realised. I couldn't hear the truth in the words that were being spoken. Something about the horseshoes, or the building itself, prevented me from discerning the truth. I raised an eyebrow at Garvin. He shook his head minutely.
"If it is acceptable, we will get straight down to business," said Carler.
When Krane didn't object, he picked up a sheet of paper from the table.
"Last night there was a serious incident involving considerable loss of life and the destruction of buildings and equipment at Porton Down Research Facility in Wiltshire. We believe one or more of the Feyre were responsible for the incident. Do you dispute this assessment?"
I noticed that his hands were shaking very slightly where he held the paper.
"I don't dispute that there was an incident," said Krane.
"Do you dispute that the Feyre were responsible?"
"Responsibility can be difficult to assign. Is the sword responsible for the cut, or the swordsman?"
"The swordsman," said the bank manager, without hesitation.
"And yet," said Krane, "if the sword cuts out a cancer then the swordsman may be revealed as a surgeon, may he not?"
"You don't remove a cancer with a sword, Lord Krane. You use a scalpel."
Krane clasped his hands together on the table. "Just so."
"Thirty-seven people are dead after last night. Thirtyseven deaths to explain to the families, and that's assuming the remaining victims survive. The destruction of a Crown facility on a high-security site, unexplained lights in the night sky, exploding aircraft, radiation burns – how are we supposed to keep this quiet?"
"That is not our concern," said Krane, quietly.
"It may become your concern."
"I do not think so."
"The Prime Minister is demanding an explanation from the Security Services and the Ministry of Defence. He's demanding full disclosure."
"I trust that you can come up with an explanation that will… satisfy him."
"My colleagues in Defence are demanding an inquiry."
"That would not be wise."
"I'm not sure if we can turn them down. This is getting beyond my ability to contain."
"It has been beyond your ability to contain for some time."
That prompted a sharp intake of breath. "Are you questioning my competence?"
"No, I am questioning your control." Krane reached into his pocket and produced the plastic container with the vial inside. He placed it carefully on the table between them. His hands did not shake. He clasped his hands again and placed them on the table.
"What's that?"
"I believe the term is: a biological weapon."
"Where did you get it?"
"It originated at Porton Down."
"Is that what you were after?"
"No. Truly, we did not know it existed. Apparently, neither did you."
"Then who made it?"
"Perhaps," said Krane, "that should be the subject of your inquiry."
The bank manager reached forward.
"If you touch it," Krane said, "we will kill all of you." The hand halted in mid-air. "We are not in the habit of allowing weapons aimed against us to fall into hostile hands."
The heavies reached inside their jackets. My hand and Garvin's dropped in perfect time to the hilts of our swords.
"Your men will never draw their weapons in time," said Krane, quietly.
The bank manager withdrew his hand slowly from the table and replaced it in his lap. The heavies slowly drew their hands back too, and Garvin and I lifted ours slowly from our swords. Everyone watched everyone else.
"Perhaps it would be better if you retrieved your sample," said Carler.
Krane reached forward, took the plastic container and returned it to his coat.
Carler put as much conviction into his voice as he could muster. "We did not, and have not, sanctioned the development of a biological weapon to be used against the Feyre."
"That you know of," said Krane. "Nevertheless, one has been created."
"I can assure you that we had no knowledge of this."
"We have a treaty, Secretary Carler. The treaty was made long before you were born. Guillaume was both clever and capable, and when he sealed our bargain he got more than he hoped for. Since that time your kind have spread and become far more numerous than even we expected. Regardless, we gave our word and we will keep it-"
"That's good to hear-" began Carler.
"-as long as you keep your side of the bargain," said Krane.
"We have acted in good faith-"
"The hoarding of weapons against the Feyre is specifically prohibited in the treaty."
"Our understanding is that the research was for medical purposes."
"Nevertheless," Krane repeated, "a weapon was created. We are not so naive as to suppose that this-" He touched his jacket over the pocket where the vial rested "-is the only example of it, or that the research that created it was destroyed along with the facility."
"I can assure you that all the research associated with this project will be destroyed and that any records will be eliminated."
"Let us imagine for a moment," said Krane, "that through circumstances beyond your control this weapon was deployed. Let us imagine that it got out into the human population. The Gifted, those who share the bloodlines of both our races, would fall like blossom in a hailstorm. Our hope of renewal and strength would fail."
"That would be most unfortunate," agreed Carler.
"Under such circumstances, our treaty would be annulled, the purpose of the Seventh Court's exile would become moot and the peaceful coexistence that we have all worked so hard to preserve would be… unsustainable."
"I'm quite sure that would never happen," said Carler. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Krane continued his quiet musing. "The lights in the sky over Porton Down might be a foretaste of what would follow… over London, Manchester, Belfast, Birmingham, Bristol."
"You are talking about open warfare."
"Teoth believes that the weapon can be altered. He believes that, given encouragement, it would develop and grow. He thinks the sample can be used to create a weapon that would be effective against humanity. Do you remember the Black Death, Secretary Carler? Do you know of it?"
"The plague? I read about it."
"A dark time for humanity. During that time the human population diminished. Nature reasserted herself. Forests grew back, meadows flowered. It was a good time for the Feyre."
"Is that a threat, Lord Krane?"
"Teoth says that the serum would make a disease such as you have not known, enhanced to spread through power, seeded on the wind, flowing in the water, immune to fire or acid, lethal in hours but able to lie dormant in the earth for centuries to come… The Feyre would be immune to it, of course, though the Gifted would suffer along with humanity."
"Why would you create such a thing?"
"We would not. We did not create this abomination. You did. We would simply be turning it to our purpose."
"But the Gifted would die along with everyone else."
"Those that remained, yes. It would be a tragedy for all of us. Still, it is only speculation. We have a treaty, after all."
"I do not believe that these threats are helping us, Lord Krane."
"Threats? No, I am simply speculating on a chain of events arising as a consequence of activities of which you had no knowledge or oversight."
"Quite so," said Carler. There was a long pause. "What would the Seven Courts have us do, Lord Krane? What assurances do you require?"
"You cannot assure us of things of which you have no knowledge, and therefore any assurance is only as good as the oversight which supports it. It is a weakness, but I wanted you to be aware of the consequences, should that oversight fail us. It is in your interests, Secretary Carler, and the interests of humanity, to ensure that your oversight extends as far as needed. Beyond that we only require that you abide by the treaty to the fullest extent. We, in turn, will do the same."
"May that long continue to be the case," said Carler.
"Indeed so," said Krane.
Carler cleared his throat. "We continue to have a live situation in progress. We can deal with Porton Down and the inquiry. The helicopter crash is an unfortunate accident, a sad and regrettable loss of life. I'm sure that the inquiry will conclude that a combination of a failure in navigation systems and pilot error was to blame. The radiation will be harder to explain, but we will think of something."
"That sounds acceptable."
"In the meantime, several dangerous individuals have escaped the facility. Some of them are dangerously psychotic. None of them are harmless. We can't just ignore them."
"The Warders will take responsibility for the escapees. Garvin, I believe this falls to you."
"I have someone in mind for the job, my Lord," said Garvin. He looked meaningfully at me.
"It would be embarrassing for any of this to come into the public domain," said Carler.
"The Warders are the soul of discretion," smiled Krane.
There was a lull. Then Carler said, "If you would like us to dispose of the sample safely for you, Lord Krane, I'm sure that can be arranged."
"There is no need. Destruction of the sample is well within our capability. It will allow you to concentrate your efforts on making sure that the research developed at Porton Down is properly contained and the records disposed of in a suitable manner, for the benefit of us all."
"For the benefit of us all. Indeed."
Krane stood. "If that concludes our discussions, I will leave you to make the appropriate arrangements. I'm sure there is much to do."
"Certainly, of course." Carler looked relieved.
We turned to the doorway. Fellstamp opened the door and the dark-suited man ushered us out. As we exited the building, Tate was waiting for us, watched warily by the policemen. He leaned close to Garvin and spoke briefly.
Garvin nodded and then drew Krane aside for a moment. Krane looked up at Tate and then spoke briefly with Garvin in low tones. Garvin nodded. Fellstamp and Tate faded into the mist as they escorted Krane across the grass back to the Way-node, while Garvin and I lingered by the doorway. After a moment the first of the two dark-suited figures emerged.
Garvin addressed him. "We meet here in good faith."
"That's right." The accent was Scottish, the voice low and hoarse. He looked tired.
"By tradition, he who calls the meeting secures the ground. That would be your responsibility, would it?"
"Security, aye." He took a cigarette from a packet, lit it, dragged heavily on it and blew smoke out to merge with the mist.
"I assume the two snipers are yours, then?" asked Garvin.
"Two, you say?"
"Two. They are unharmed, but you might need a ladder."
"And why would I need a ladder?"
"To get them down from the trees." Garvin turned and walked away, and I followed.
As we walked into the mist, he called after us. "What if there were three snipers?"
Garvin continued walking without looking back. As we reached the Way-node, Tate materialised out of the fog.
"Security is suggesting that there are three snipers," Garvin said quietly to him.
"Nope," said Tate. "And their recording devices weren't very well hidden either."
He placed two tiny tape recorders in Garvin's open hand.
"Is that all of them?"
"Hard to tell if they have anything remote. They're getting clever. That's all that was inside the grounds."
"Safer to assume the meeting was recorded, then. No problem. Nothing was said that can't be repeated elsewhere. Good work."
"It was fun. They're good." Tate grinned.
"We're better," said Garvin. "Keep an eye on them until they leave, just in case."
Garvin stepped on to the Way-node and vanished. I heard one of the cars rumble into life back at the hall.
"Good meeting?" asked Tate.
"I think it served its purpose. Are you gonna check there isn't a third sniper?"
"No. If there had been they would never have mentioned him. I'll join you in a while."
Tate slipped away, merging with the fog. I looked around and wondered if it would dissipate, now the meeting was over. Maybe later, when Tate left.
I stepped on to the Way and followed Garvin.