'And the burnt church? You saved them there as well?'
A flash of annoyance crossed Dr Tremaine's face. 'Von Stralick's childish coded message was an obvious trap for the Army of New Albion poltroons. I knew I had to get there and help them escape. Alas, the Magisterium was there in force and so my plans have collapsed. For now.' He broke off and looked at the wood-panelled ceiling. 'Speaking of which, it seems as if Craddock's forces have arrived.' He chuckled. 'Doesn't he ever give up?'
Aubrey heard a muffled explosion overhead. It seemed as if Dr Tremaine was right.
The Sorcerer Royal sighed. 'It looks as if I must be off. You'll forgive me for leaving so abruptly?'
'No,' Caroline said.
Aubrey turned to see that Caroline was holding Ames's revolver in both hands and had adopted a perfect shooting stance. Where was she hiding that pistol? he thought wildly. He had time to marvel at the tears in her eyes, then she fired all six shots without hesitating.
Dr Tremaine looked irritated and, backhanded, swatted the bullets out of the air. They bounced off a bookshelf and fell to the floor. 'Don't do that,' he said. 'I hate the smell of cordite.' He barked a few guttural words and the revolver disappeared. Caroline stared at her empty hands. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and started towards him.
Dr Tremaine's expression hardened. Gone was his cavalier attitude, his banter and his amusement. Instead, he was a cold and malignant creature. Aubrey could see that this was a man who was indifferent to the suffering of others. He would snuff out lives without a thought. 'Enough,' Tremaine snarled, in a voice that was deeper, rougher. 'This part of the game is at an end.'
He pointed at her and uttered two short words and Caroline was flung backwards, tumbling like a feather in a gale.
Aubrey moved to help but stopped when he saw that she'd somehow managed to land on her feet. She growled, deep in her throat, and looked as if she were ready to advance on Dr Tremaine again.
Aubrey was taken off guard by Caroline's fierceness, a contrast to her usual cool demeanour, but he could see that the pain at the loss of her father was boiling out of her unchecked – and it was leading her into mortal danger.
'Wait,' Aubrey said, and – as he'd hoped – he drew the Sorcerer Royal's ferocious attention.
'No,' Tremaine said, 'do not try to stop me.'
Even though Aubrey felt weakened by his recent spell-casting, he could not allow Tremaine to harm Caroline – or escape so easily. If he could slow down the Sorcerer Royal, distract him, perhaps he could give Craddock's operatives time to appear.
He reached into his pocket. 'I have your sister's pearl,' he said, holding it up.
For the first time, Aubrey saw uncertainty in the face of the Sorcerer Royal.
Tremaine let out a long breath. 'I thought I'd lost it. A shade attacked from behind. For a moment I thought it was one of mine, like the one I used to monitor Professor Hepworth's workshop. It wasn't. It slashed my cane from me. I didn't have time to retrieve it.'
'It's important to you.'
Dr Tremaine bared his teeth and his eyes blazed like furnaces. Aubrey felt the immense power of the man. 'Give it to me.'
'I think not.' Aubrey had no strength for anything substantial, but gambled that he would be able to repeat the spell he'd used when he took on Tremaine's appearance, but with a special addition. Like to like, he thought, and quickly muttered a short spell. Instantly, Aubrey was again Tremaine's twin – except this time he was shackled to the original by a magical chain, left wrist to left wrist, bound fast. The chain was massive and it radiated intense magic. He gritted his teeth. Tremaine was not leaving.
Tremaine staggered and Aubrey felt a wild, fierce joy at landing a blow against such a foe. Then something unexpected happened. Aubrey gasped, catching the breath in his throat, and he realised the bond between them was doing more than simply preventing Tremaine from leaving. He was connected to the Sorcerer Royal's being.
For a splinter of time, Aubrey was overwhelmed. A cascade of impressions rampaged through him. He was assaulted by the towering arrogance of the man, the utter and complete surrender to ambition and pride. Tremaine, at heart, was brutal, selfish, full of swagger and self-righteousness, with the passion and limitlessness of a force of nature.
The riot of sensations was suddenly cut off. Aubrey stared at Tremaine, who glared back at him before sneering, then laughing. 'You fool, Fitzwilliam! I've made my soul impervious to such dangers, but obviously you don't know how. The first lesson when you deal with life or death: take care of your own soul first!'
And Aubrey knew that while he'd been glimpsing Tremaine's being, the Sorcerer Royal had done the same to him. The magical chain was a conduit that ran both ways. Tremaine had been given an insight into Aubrey's parlous condition – and it wasn't unfamiliar to him.
Dr Tremaine jeered at Aubrey's anguish. He reached into a pocket of his fur coat and plucked out a familiar notebook. He brandished it at Aubrey. 'Even Lionel Hepworth managed to work out a handful of ways to prevent an accidental true death. You are out of your depth, boy, and you are paying for it.'
Dimly, Aubrey heard Caroline's cry of dismay at the appearance of her father's missing notebook.
'I can't let you go,' Aubrey gasped. For more reasons than one, now. Either you or that book might just have some answers for me.
Contemptuously, Tremaine barked a torrent of harsh, spiky phrases. With a jolt that made Aubrey gasp, the magical chain disappeared and Aubrey was himself again, his Tremaine link vanishing like smoke in the wind.
'I must,' the Sorcerer Royal said, his eyes blazing. He lifted a hand, but paused. 'Keep my pearl safe for me, Fitzwilliam.'
Tremaine spoke one word, a word of many syllables. Aubrey had never heard anything like it before. The sound hung in the air shimmering and skating on the edge of perception, but it left a bitter taste in Aubrey's mouth, a harsh, metallic tang that made him feel unclean.
Then the Sorcerer Royal disappeared.
Aubrey realised his knees were trembling. He steadied himself against a bookshelf. George started towards him, but he waved him away. He needed a moment to compose himself.
'Aubrey?' Sir Darius turned his head and worked his jaw. 'Where are we? Why are you dressed like that? And George, a beggar?'
Aubrey had forgotten he was still dressed like Tommy Sparks and that his clothes were sodden.
'I'll tell you later, Father. Are you all right?'
Aubrey went to him, only to hear feet pounding down the stairs. He turned to see Magisterium operatives crashing into the room. 'Don't!' he cried to Caroline, as the operatives surrounded her. The warning was too late for George, who swung a punch and was wrestled to the ground by three businesslike women in black uniforms, the Magisterium having no qualms about including females in its ranks. When George realised who had tackled him and thrown him to the carpet, his expression was a combination of embarrassment and delight.
Aubrey managed to get to his father's side by the time all the operatives had entered – a score or more packing into the room.