The Masked City Page 32

‘Yes.’ She remembered Kai’s own strength - that of even a young dragon - and the power and majesty of his uncle. ‘I don’t know what the consequences might be. We have to stop this, fast. For Kai’s own sake. But also because this could destabilize whole worlds. Including yours. When I told you what his uncle had said to me, when he warned me he’d make an example of this world, I wasn’t being figurative. They could destroy this alternate, if Kai isn’t returned. Or if the Fae choose to make a fight of it.’ She had to make Vale understand just how real the threat to his world was.

She remembered, a little guiltily, that she’d skipped over the details of her own precise position and the trouble she might be in. Well, that wasn’t so important at the moment.

‘You seem extremely concerned for the safety of my “alternate”,’ Vale said drily. ‘I suppose, now that you occupy yourself here, it seems more important to you.’

Irene felt a flare of anger at his flippancy in view of what now faced them both. ‘I see no reason not to head off a possible war before it can even become a skirmish. Do you think so little of me that you think I’d just stand by?’

‘I think you overrate these … people,’ Vale said. ‘I have encountered enough Fae in my time, and while they are certainly hazardous, you seem to feel they are world-shakingly dangerous. Strongrock himself may have some unusual powers, but in the end he has his limits, as do we all. And as for Silver …’ He shrugged.

She took a deep breath. ‘Dangerous enough to shake worlds,’ she said as calmly as she could. Facts would be more use than losing her temper. ‘That’s an extremely good way of putting it. Although I have never encountered any of the truly powerful ones myself. That is because they usually inhabit the ends of reality, where chaos is the deepest. There, the Fae take over whole worlds and bind their power to the very fabric of these worlds. In your world we are in the shallow end, Vale, somewhere between the deeps on the one side and the heights on the other. I have never encountered any of the great powers of chaos, and I hope I never do. Librarians are taught very early that one does not go swimming in the deep waters with the sharks, because we’d be eaten alive!’

Vale nodded slowly. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I accept your judgement on the dangers, Winters. And please keep your voice down. Someone might hear you.’

Irene wasn’t entirely sure he did believe her. But if he was exposed to that level of power in person, they’d be in so much trouble anyhow that apologies would be pointless. ‘Ao Shun confirmed that Kai is somewhere in the chaos worlds,’ she said, ‘and your witnesses’ testimony from the kidnapping suggests that Lord Guantes took him. But I can’t track him unless we’re already in the same world. Unless you have any other Fae who owe you a favour, then I think our only source of guidance is …’

‘Indeed. Lord Silver.’ Vale pursed his thin lips in an expression of profound dislike. ‘Like you, I see no other alternative.’

‘Lord Silver did say I could visit any time, when we last met,’ she went on. ‘But the visiting card he gave me is at my lodgings, and you’ve confirmed they’re being watched. And in any case, if Lady Guantes is also at the Embassy, we can’t simply walk in through the front door.’

‘Certainly not looking as we do,’ Vale agreed. ‘Besides, there is currently a demonstration in front of the Embassy, so it will have to be the servants’ entrance. And if I am correct, he will be willing to see us with or without a card. Was his manservant with you, when you spoke to him?’

Irene thought back, and nodded. ‘Johnson. A thin man in grey.’

‘He’s our key, then,’ Vale said with satisfaction. ‘Let us prepare.’

And so, later that evening, Irene and Vale were waiting in a line behind the Liechtenstein Embassy. They were swathed in heavy hooded cloaks, which would have been more conspicuous if the half-dozen ahead of them weren’t also heavily cloaked and hooded. Two men were leading sets of dogs - a pair of poodles, a pair of Borzoi, a pair of terriers and a pair of Afghan hounds - all of which played merrily around their legs and caused them to curse frequently and with heavy Russian accents. The Afghan hounds had been bleached white, but the ambient grime of London already lay on their pelts in thick dark smuts. Another man frantically studied a musical score, pausing from time to time to blow a few notes on his long-tarnished flute. And two women - at least, Irene thought they were women - tucked up their cloaks to practise a dance, baring stockinged calves and high-heeled shoes. Behind Irene and Vale, the line stretched further back along the wall of the Embassy. A savvy street-vendor had set up his stall and was selling oranges.

‘Have you done this before?’ Irene asked quietly. The dogs, flautist and tap-dancers made enough noise to cover anything less than shouting on her part.

‘On several occasions,’ Vale said shortly. ‘But please remember your part, Winters. You are—’

‘Your hypnotic medium,’ Irene said obediently. ‘Through whom you can summon up the ancient spirits of the departed Pharaohs.’

‘You are rather glib about this. Have you done anything of this nature yourself?’

Irene wondered if he’d forgotten she was a Librarian by trade, and so usually wore a false identity, but he did have a point. This was more than usually exotic. ‘Not since I was at school,’ she admitted.

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