Revenge of the Brotherhood (Book 3 in the Tom & Laura Series) (15 page)

“Your dismissal as Director of MM3 was faked?” Jones asked.

Trelawney sighed. “Real enough. The Queen and Palmerston would have fought it for me, but my Precog talent said I should accept my fate. I could never discover who the Brotherhood were from within Military Magic because they kept me too busy. Outside it, I had a chance.”

“Have you made progress?” Jones asked excitedly.

“A little, but that is the lesser problem. Before I left my post it became clear that the Brotherhood were planning a major operation. The Precogs keep warning Baxter, but he ignores them as he is part of it. There is a threat to the Royal Family, which is why we are gathering at the wedding to discuss it, but I am sure such a threat is a diversion in part.”

Jones nodded and waited for Trelawney to continue.

“The Brotherhood are thieves and like all thieves their only interest is money. When we stopped the auctions at Smee’s house we deprived them of a major source of revenue. Selling aberrant magicians made them a lot of money. Then Lord McBride nearly blew their membership to kingdom come, and they all know the truth of that. They need a big victory soon or their members will desert them.”

“And how will they make money from attacking the Royal Family?”

Trelawney shook his head. “I wish I knew. There is another thing; they have decided to kill me and my wife at the wedding. I cannot see how that benefits them. It will certainly result in a massive tightening of security around Her Majesty. At the moment, nothing makes sense.”

Cam had gone deep undercover. Trelawney offered to put her up in his house, but there was far too great a chance that someone would see her. Similarly, all the safe houses were known to Baxter, and Trelawney warned her not to use any of them.

However, there was one house in the city that might be unoccupied. So it was that she broke into the house of the late James Saunders, once second-in-command of MM3.

It had not been occupied for nearly a year, but someone had cleaned out all the food that might have rotted and all Saunders’ books and furniture were still in place. It felt haunted, but Cam had never been a strong believer in ghosts.

She took the risk of visiting the local shops and buying provisions. Out in the suburbs people were nosier than in the centre of town and there was a risk someone might see her enter or leave the house. But so far, she had been lucky.

Now she needed to venture into the city to buy a dress for the wedding. She certainly could not return to pick up her trunk at Liverpool Street Station. Since the Queen was to be in attendance, she needed a stylish dress that would not be out of place for the function. The last thing she could afford was to stand out. The dress also had to conceal Trelawney’s large pistol.

She made a trip to Kensington and found a suitable dress shop after half an hour of searching. The dress called out to her from the shop window, but when she tried it on it was too large and needed adjustment.

“Not to worry, Miss. We have a fitting room upstairs,” the young assistant said cheerfully. “Should take half an hour, maybe less.”

Cam fretted as pins were stuck in the dress and the assistant started sewing. Her Empath skills were limited, but they were twitching alarmingly.

The bell above the door downstairs rang and the assistant stopped sewing. “I have to go answer that as the Mistress is out. I won’t be long.”

Cam opened the door the assistant closed behind her and listened to the voices coming up the stairs. One was horribly familiar.

“I am looking for a dress. Ver is the one that was in the vindow earlier?”

“I am just adjusting that for a lady. She’s upstairs in the fitting room.”

Cam did not listen further.

A minute later, Annelise Shutlz entered the room with a pistol in hand and a terrified assistant standing in front of her providing cover. The room was empty.

“She has taken the dress,” the assistant said in outrage. “I still had bits to finish.”

Annelise put the pistol away.

“Perhaps you could serve me now?” she asked the terrified girl.

Daisy decided the farm looked safe enough. A tiny stone cottage and wooden barn sat in a couple of acres of cultivated land surrounded by forest. There was a small pond below the buildings, on which ducks swam. A few chickens scratched around the barnyard looking for food. It all looked friendly enough and the sun had already set though it was not yet dark.

“Let’s give it a try. We will need to find somewhere to spend the night. Let me do the talking.”

“Do you speak Breton or French?” Laura asked.

“Not a word,” Daisy said cheerfully. “German seemed more useful when they offered classes at Hobsgate and I spent time in Austria as a child.”

“I know Latin and that’s very similar to French,” Laura offered.

“You know how to write it, not how to speak it. Leave it to me.”

They approached the door slowly and Daisy knocked on it. Nothing happened for a few minutes and Daisy wondered if the farm had been abandoned. Then the door opened and she found herself staring at the sharp end of a pitchfork. It was held by a man in his twenties. He looked frightened.

He said something in a language neither of the girls understood.

“Do you speak any English?” Daisy asked, enunciating every word as clearly as she could.

“A little, go away.”

“We want to stay the night. We can pay.” Daisy held out a small gold coin. Despite its size, it was probably more money than the farmer had ever possessed.

The farmer took the coin from her and bit it. He put the coin in his pocket. Holding up a single finger he said ‘Une night’ and waved them into the cottage with the pitchfork.

There was a woman by a cot in the far end of the one room dwelling. A boy of nine or ten lay on the cot naked and she was wetting his body down with a cloth.

The man and the woman exchanged words. From what Laura could tell from the woman’s tone they were not welcome.

“Is the boy ill?” Daisy asked.

“My son, very sick, die soon,” the man said with great sadness.
 
He motioned them to sit round the only table in the room. A single candle in its centre lit the cottage.

“My name is Laura,” Laura said slowly pointing at herself.

“Daisy.”

“Pierre.”

“Marie.” Marie pointed at her son, “Claude.”

Pierre opened a cupboard, taking out a loaf of bread and a pot of soft cheese. He put them on the table. He opened another cupboard and took out an earthenware pot and drinking jugs. The pot contained homemade wine. Soon, they were eating and drinking and the tension in the room dropped considerably.

“I wish Tom were here; he could heal the child, I’m sure,” Laura said. She looked at the child who had done little but sweat and occasionally moan.

“You know Healer?” Marie asked; a gleam of hope in her eyes.

“Oh no,” Laura realized she had just done a terrible thing. “He is far away.”

“Why not try using a bind?” Daisy asked.

“I am not a Healer,” Laura said, almost in horror.

“You can turn a General into a girl, but you cannot help a sick boy? Have you ever tried?” The wine had got to Daisy and her words were slurred.

“I am a Spellbinder, Daisy.”

“The most powerful one ever. Why not try, what harm can it do?”

Marie knelt on the floor and took Laura’s hands in hers. “You Spellbinder, you try.”

Laura felt helpless. Why had Daisy got her into this mess? She could not heal anyone. She simply did not know how.

Daisy stood up and swayed unsteadily on her feet. “Change him into a well version of himself, why not?”

Pierre had said nothing during this whole interchange, but when Laura looked at him she saw the pleading in his eyes.

“I will try,” she said. She took her tools from her bag and tried to concentrate.

15.
              
Chase

They gathered on the bridge of the Hubris as the sun began to set. The city of New York lay in the distance, clearly visible because of the black clouds of smoke rising from its industrial chimneys. Sailing ships crowded the rivers and bays.

“My father had a dock built for the Hubris in a small town outside New York called Great Neck. We will wait for nightfall as I have discovered the locals have a tendency to shoot at anything flying by and the Hubris makes a big target.”

Antonia started giggling and everyone turned to look at her. Dougal’s words did not merit laughter.

“I am so sorry,” Antonia said between giggles. “My sister has just been told something very funny.”

Dougal looked irritated, but as there was nothing to do until darkness fell, he decided to enquire further.

“Would you care to share this piece of whimsy with us?”

“In a minute. An Army messenger has arrived in response to your message.”

“Perhaps we should go back to the observation room?”

They gathered in the observation room and took seats. Tom looked out at the world below and wondered that Dougal thought they could leave the ship unguided, but then it wasn’t going anywhere, just drifting lazily with the breeze.

Antonia sat with her eyes closed. Tom saw that her eyes and lips moved slightly and suspected that she was mimicking the words her sister said as she said them. The sisters were linked together in a way that defied all belief. He wondered if making love to Andrea would be exactly the same as it was with Antonia and then hurriedly changed his thoughts to other things before somebody noticed the bulge.

Eventually Antonia opened her eyes and laughed.

“Permission to report, my Lord?”

“Get on with it.”

“High Command is pleased that you managed to save the airship from the native attack and agrees with your plan to sail it to New York. They think that it will take you several days and Andrea has kept them in the dark as to your actual progress. They respectfully suggest that you keep the ship in New York while they consider your next course of action.”

“We are not staying, are we?” Tom asked, a feeling of panic running through him. He had to get to Ebb as soon as possible.

“No, Tom. We sail for England in the morning. I can get additional supplies loaded when we land. I expect Lieutenant Wright will come with us, but I anticipate Mr. French and Mr. Baum will be staying in New York.”

French looked almost insulted. “If you’re making the first transatlantic flight, I’d surely be obliged if you let me come along.”

“I too,” Baum said quickly. “I have conquered most of my fears and wish to be a party to this great venture.”

Dougal frowned. “This is not exactly an authorized flight, gentlemen. But I will think on it.”

“Can I get to the good bit now?” Antonia enquired.

Dougal inclined his head.

“Gareth Jones is the MM1 Director. He knows about Ebb, but it seems he has been in conference with someone important and he says he will help us in our endeavors.”

“It was an MM1 agent that tried to shoot Laura,” Tom said. An image of Daisy holding a smoking gun in a railway carriage flashed through his mind.

Antonia dismissed his concerns with a flick of her hand.

“Jones is new to the job. In any case, he asked Andrea to pass on some other information concerning the Class A and her companion.”

“Daisy Drew?” Dougal asked tersely and Antonia nodded. “Then get on with it.”

“The Class A,” Antonia had decided not to call her Laura, “is in Brittany. Apparently there has been some kind of uprising and she was sent to help out.”

“Laura would never help the Army,” Tom said.

“Well, she did, for a while. Then she ran away from them taking her companion with her. This has caused a bit of a fuss and bother.”

“I can imagine,” French said laconically, “One of your tame Class A’s going over to the enemy.”

“Laura hates killing, it matters little which side is doing it,” Tom said sharply. “If she has run they must have done something awful to her.”

“Jones would not tell Andrea the details of what happened, but she agrees with you. What had me laughing was that Eric Kincaid came to see her after the Director left. His brother is a telepath in the battalion that the Class A was assigned to. It seems that when she left the camp she transformed all the officers into girls, including his brother. They’ve been like that for days.”

“Is that possible?” Baum asked. “So many people changed all at once.”

French sat back and guffawed so loud it startled everybody. “God, a whole bunch of the Brit officers losing their balls. There’s going to be folks in the States laughing over that one for years.”

Tom had forgotten that French was an American and without loyalty to the British Empire. On the other hand, it seemed that Laura was on top form. He smiled at that thought.

Antonia smirked at Tom. “Can you imagine what she could do to her lover if she find out he was disloyal to her? Keeping his balls would be the least of his problems.”

Tom’s smile faltered and he felt his face burn with embarrassment and not a little concern.

“Where are Miss Drew and Miss Young now?” Dougal asked sharply. He missed Daisy and the thought that she might be in danger gave him a sharp pain in the chest.

“Jones doesn’t know. He believes that they may be heading for France, but that is only his opinion. He has told Andrea that he will keep her informed of any developments.”

There were torches blazing over the shed like building in Great Neck, it was a twin to the one they left behind in Kansas. When the Hubris descended to within twenty feet of the ground, men in British Army uniforms rushed out to grab the ropes that dangled above them. Thirty minutes later the ship was safely locked into its cradle, its dantium engine shielded by tons of lead.

“How many more of these airship sheds are there?” Tom asked.

“Three. One was under construction in Glen Russell, but that was destroyed along with everything else by the bomb.”

“Your father truly had grand visions.”

Dougal smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “You have no idea of the extent of my father’s vision. He planned to be the king of the world and was busy constructing the tools to do it. The airship was far from his only project.”

A movable stairway that gave access to the ground was rolled into place and a captain in the Royal Fusiliers stood waiting to salute Dougal when they opened the door.

“Welcome to Great Neck, Lord McBride. I hope you had no trouble finding us. My name is Captain Evans, sir.”

“We followed the railway line, Captain Evans, and here you are. I need to talk to your quarter-master as we want the ship ready to leave tomorrow morning.”

The Captain looked nonplussed. “My orders were that you would be staying.”

Dougal looked at him sharply. “And so they should have been. Secrets do not stay secrets very long if everyone is informed of them. When we leave you will tell your superiors we are still here. Our mission is on orders from much higher up the chain of command.”

“But, sir?”

Dougal pointed at Antonia. “Lieutenant Wright serves as our Telepath, keeping us in constant touch with London while Lieutenant Carter is the best Healer in the world. You would not want us to keep Her Majesty waiting for him, would you?”

“No, sir. I will take you to the quartermaster, sir.”

Tom looked on in admiration as Dougal followed the Captain across the field.

“We have a name in America for talk like that,” French said amiably. “First part of it is
bull
, second part is
shit
.”

“Are you going to come with us, Jeremiah? There could be danger when we arrive.”

“More danger than crossing the Atlantic for the first ever time in an airship?” French winked. “I think I might just stow away if his lordship tries to stop me from coming.”

Tom offered his hand and French took it. “I never did thank you for saving our lives.”

“Seems to me you just saved mine and it was only fair. Besides, you could have taken that Indian. It was Franz I saved.”

Baum chose that moment to step forward from where he had been listening. “I too will come. It is only right that the designer of the Hubris should be onboard on such an important trip.”

“Then I guess we got us a team,” French said cheerfully.

Laura woke to the sound of a child’s laughter. She opened her eyes and saw Claude running about the room being chased by his mother. The night before Laura had created a bind that reinforced Claude being himself.
 
According to the text books such a bind was against the laws of magic, but Laura had done it before, to protect Tom and herself against unwanted transformation.

She checked the Army bind and the one for the boy. Both were still intact, but the one for the Army showed some brown marks around the writing. It would not last much longer, perhaps another day.

As she sat up Marie chased Claude out of the cottage and came over to her. She hugged Laura so tightly Laura could not breathe. Then she let her go.

“Thank you.”

Laura felt uncomfortable.

“Do you know anything of Spellbinding?”

Marie frowned and then held her thumb and forefinger a short distance apart. “Une per.”

Laura held up Claude’s bind. “This is what made Claude well. Sooner or later it will burst into flames. Do you understand?”

“Une per.”

“I do not know what will happen to Claude when it does.” Laura shook her head trying to look puzzled.

“Claude sick?”

Laura shook her head. “I don’t know.” Laura handed the bind to Marie. “Keep this safe and dry. Put it somewhere it can burn without setting your cottage on fire.”

“I understand,” Pierre said, and took the bind from Laura. “How protect better?”

“Copper sheets, pressed down on it from both sides.” Laura pressed her hands together as she spoke and Pierre nodded.

Daisy entered the farmhouse in her underwear. “I have just been for a swim in the pond. I feel clean at last.”

“You could have woken me,” Laura complained. Her clothes were sticking to her and she would love to take a swim in cold clear water.

“Your pond awaits you, my lady.”

There was a crackling sound and the Army bind burst into flames. Laura beat at the paper with her boot until it went out.

“That is strange. It looked good for another day.”

Daisy frowned. “Forget your swim. I think we had better start moving.”

A couple of hours before Laura woke, General Brent-Smyth was shaken awake by his Adjutant. He found he was still a young woman and was not at all pleased.

“An officer has arrived from Rennes. He wishes to speak to you.”

The General was not at all sure he wanted to be seen by an officer before he regained possession of his balls, but anybody coming from Rennes would have been sent by the War Office so he had no choice.

A smart looking Captain entered and saluted. “Captain Wittington, Spellbinder Grade 1, sir. I have been sent to resolve your unfortunate problem.”

“Which one?” the General snarled. Unfortunately, coming from a woman it lacked menace. “Have you come to break this bind or find the bitch who put the spell on us?”

“You will have to find Miss Young by yourselves, Sir. However, I believe I can help you to break this bind.”

“How? Are you going to write a counter spell?”

Wittington sighed. “They are not spells, sir. That is a common misconception. Think of them as orders to the troops. A Spellbinder commands reality to change and it does for the time the strength of his order allows. Then it reverts.”

The General slammed his fist on the table. “I just want it gone. That and the endless tiredness that goes with it.”