70
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.’
71
When they reached Darnleigh house, they were expected – and immediately taken to the planning room to find Commander Craddock and Commander Tallis.
The heads of the two branches of the Directorate were circling around the Big Board – a huge table with a gigantic map of Albion. As if it were a child’s game, operatives were moving pieces about. Most were white, indicating Albion regiments, squadrons and fleets, but an ominous cluster was black, and it was arranged directly over Trinovant.
The room itself was windowless. Noticeboards covered the walls, with dozens of desks taking up the space directly underneath. Telephones rang with muted urgency while hordes of operatives took notes, passing them to other operatives who scurried off, handing them to the brooding senior figures around the Big Board or decamping via one of the many doors to other parts of the building.
The atmosphere was of controlled, but tense, authority. Voices were hushed, movements deliberate. The scraping sound as operatives leaned over and used long-handled rakes to move pieces on the Big Board was insistent and portentous.
Craddock glanced their way as they entered, then tapped Tallis on the shoulder. Together, they left the Big Board and swept Aubrey and his friends to a corner that held a small conference of senior operatives until a word from Tallis sent them packing.
‘The situation isn’t good,’ Craddock said immediately, ‘but with your warning we’re doing what we can. Our remote sensers confirm that Tremaine himself is up there, circling the capital.’
‘Twenty-five thousand feet is far beyond the capabilities of any of our dirigibles,’ Tallis growled. He bounced on his toes, hands behind his back, and looked as if he personally wanted to punch Dr Tremaine in the face. ‘We’re preparing squads of aircraft, doing what we can, ready to throw everything at him.’
‘We need to, sir,’ Aubrey said. ‘Dr Tremaine is aiming to bypass the need for a blood sacrifice. Instead, he’s aiming to work directly with the magical field generated by Trinovant itself. Nowhere else on earth is there such a concentration of people in one area, which suggests that he needs all of it.’
Tallis scowled. ‘What the devil are you talking about?’
‘On such a scale?’ Craddock said, ignoring Tallis. ‘Impossible.’
‘I believe Dr Tremaine has two things that will help him. Firstly, the potential of the accumulated magical artefacts. Secondly, he’s discovered the Universal Language for Magic.’
‘Ah,’ Craddock rocked back. ‘The abducted magical theorists.’
‘We’ll need a full report of your activities, but not now,’ Tallis said. ‘We understand that you’ve seen Tremaine’s stronghold, and you have some observations from the Divodorum front that could be important.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Aubrey said and thought of the pages of notes he’d taken.
‘And we had the incident in Korsur,’ Caroline added. ‘It may be important for the analysts to hear about that.’
‘Korsur?’ Craddock said vaguely, his mind clearly on Aubrey’s previous revelations. ‘I hope Tremaine hasn’t been up to anything in Korsur.’
Now, that’s ominous, Aubrey thought. ‘Why not, sir?’
Craddock made an impatient gesture with a hand. His attention was on the Big Board. ‘I’m sorry I brought it up. We have more important things to worry about.’
‘And Dr Tremaine probably had more important things to do,’ Aubrey said, ‘yet he dropped everything to take possession of a large piece of Crystal Johannes from Korsur.’
Sharply, Craddock turned away from the Big Board. ‘Dr Tremaine has some Crystal Johannes? For all our sakes, tell me this isn’t so!’
‘A large piece, sir,’ Aubrey said, shocked by Commander Craddock’s reaction. The head of the Magic Department rarely showed emotion, yet here anger and fear were clear on his face.
‘As big as a church door,’ George put in. ‘That’s how the villagers described it.’
‘Craddock?’ Tallis barked. ‘What is it, man? What’s special about this stuff that has you so worried?’
Craddock had his eyes closed and was rubbing his brows with the tips of his fingers. ‘Long ago, when it was more common than today, Crystal Johannes was used by the magicians of the day to help their spells. Properly used, it can have a focusing effect, concentrating a latent magical field. I had thought this property forgotten since none had been found for so long, but evidently I was wrong.’
‘It’s the sort of thing Dr Tremaine would know,’ Aubrey said softly, ‘and would figure into his plans.’
Caroline looked from Craddock to Aubrey. ‘So this means that Dr Tremaine’s spell could be even more powerful than you’d thought?’
‘Oh yes,’ Craddock said. ‘If he uses the Crystal Johannes he will have an untold magnification of his power.’
We really didn’t need that, Aubrey thought. He caught George’s eye and began to look for ways to slip out of the planning room.
An operative hurried up and thrust a slip of paper at Tallis, who read it and scowled even more volcanically. ‘The blasted High Command won’t authorise our deployment of aerial squadrons!’