'Abducted, one might say,' sniffed Grayling slyly.
Glanville smiled. 'And Mr Chalkhill would like him back.'
Grayling smiled. 'Mr Chalkhill would like him back,' he echoed.
'Never mind about that,' said Brimstone. 'I want you to run your eye over a contract.'
'Contract law!' Glanville exclaimed, not at all put out. 'Your speciality, I believe, Mr Grayling.'
‘I want you both to look over it,' hissed Brimstone.
'I want the best legal advice you can give me.' He flicked nervously at the thumb of the Hand of Glory and small flames ignited at the fingertips. Brimstone blew them out hurriedly.
'You shall have it,' said Glanville.
'You shall have it,' said Grayling.
Brimstone pulled a single sheet of parchment from the drawer of his desk and handed it across. Glanville took it, read it, then passed it without comment to Grayling. Grayling took a little longer reading, but looked up eventually.
'Is it binding?' Brimstone asked.
'Yes,' said Grayling.
'Yes,' said Glanville.
'It's with a demon,' Brimstone pointed out.
'Makes no difference,' Grayling said. 'Demonic contracts still have force in law.'
Glanville reached out and took the parchment. 'I know everyone tries to get out of them and demons are notoriously slapdash when it conies to legal matters – '
'They prefer to kill you,' Grayling explained, smiling brightly.
' – but the fact remains,' Glanville continued, 'if this – ' he raised his spectacles and peered at the parchment closely ' – Beleth wished to institute proceedings on foot of this document, they would certainly be entertained in court. Unless, of course, your signature is forged or you could prove duress. That means the demon forced you into signing,' he added helpfully.
Brimstone shook his head. 'I signed it all right. Without duress.' The Hand of Glory was beginning to sweat a little so he set it down. 'There's a penalty clause…'
'I noticed that,' said Grayling soberly.
'I take it this contract has not yet been executed,' Glanville said.
Brimstone shook his head again. 'Not yet.' The Hand of Glory began to crawl away and he pinned it to the desktop with a paper-knife. All five fingers wiggled weakly. 'I want to know my chances of getting out of it.'
Grayling jiggled his spectacles. 'My dear Brimstone, this is signed in blood.'
'The form of words is clear,' said Glanville. 'You have agreed to make specific sacrifice to Beleth. He has agreed to grant you a specific wish.'
'The penalty clause is equally specific,' Grayling said. 'Should you fail to make the sacrifice within a month, this Beleth creature takes your soul.'
'No getting out of it,' said Glanville.
'No getting out of it at all,' Grayling confirmed.
Seven
Pyrgus could only see as far as the backside of the Imperial Guardsman walking three strides ahead of him. The man was so large he blocked much of the view in front. There were stone-faced guards on either side of him and one behind. If he tried to run, he would get maybe a stride and a half..These characters were experts.
But he had to try.
'I've a pebble in my shoe,' he announced loudly. If they stopped to let him get it out, there might be a chance of distracting them.
They ignored him.
'I could be crippled if you keep me walking on a rock. Your officers won't thank you for delivering an injured prisoner.'
Apparently their officers didn't give a hoot. The guards continued to ignore him.
They reached the bridge where the four men around him were joined by six more of their colleagues. They wore helmet masks and uniform riot gear with stun wands in every holster. This was beginning to look like a serious bust.
As the new men fell in, Pyrgus started to wonder what it was all about. When the four first took him into custody, he'd been so relieved to get away from Brimstone and the demon that he'd never thought to ask himself why the Emperor's Guard had been sent after him. 'Where are you taking me?' he demanded. 'I've a right to know where you are taking me!' He waited vainly for an answer, then added sourly, 'Or not.' It didn't matter anyway, because by now he had a fair idea where they must be going.
They crossed the bridge in fine style. The crowds melted before the marching phalanx of Imperial Guard but reconvened to watch the prisoner. At the far side, they followed the course of the river until they reached the official ford. When they stopped to await the Imperial barge, Pyrgus knew he'd been right. They were going to the palace. These men had been sent to bring him to the Emperor.
Pyrgus sighed. What on earth did his father want with him now?
The Imperial palace was set on an island in the widest part of the river. There were nearly two square miles of formal gardens surrounded by a miniature forest where the Emperor sometimes went off hunting boar. The palace itself had been built more than four hundred years ago using purple stone. The stone had weathered over centuries until now it was almost black; although it did take on a faintly purple sheen at sunrise and sunset. The colouring combined with the archaic architectural style to give the building a sinister, cyclopean look. Most visitors found it intimidating. For Pyrgus it was simply home.
He walked in step with the guards through the main entrance, then halted as Gatekeeper Tithonus slithered out to meet them. The old man was wearing his official green robes and looked more like a lizard than ever.
'I'll take him from here,' he said.
'Our orders is to bring him to the Emperor direct.'
'Your orders have been changed,' Tithonus said, unsmiling. He held the guard's eye and Pyrgus could almost feel the soldier's willpower crumble.
Eventually the guard mumbled, 'Yes, sir.' He motioned to his colleagues and they wheeled off in perfect step.
'I see you haven't lost it, Tithe,' Pyrgus grinned.
'And I see your dress sense has got worse,' Tithonus told him drily. 'Do you want to change before you meet your father?'
‘I think I'll stick with what I'm wearing – let him see what he's reduced me to.' Pyrgus's grin faded. 'What's happening, Tithonus? Why did my father send the heavy squad?'
'It's Blue,' Tithonus said. 'Walk with me. We'll take the long way round – there's a great deal I must tell you.'
'What's the matter with Blue?' Pyrgus asked quickly. Holly Blue was his sister. She was the thing about palace life he missed most. 'Is she ill?'
'Far from it,' Tithonus said. 'But she is up to her old tricks.'
Pyrgus groaned. 'What's she told Father this time?'
'That you've fallen foul of Lord Hairstreak. Is it true?'
'Sort of,' Pyrgus said. How on earth had she found out? She was a year younger than he was, yet she'd somehow set up a network of spies that was the envy of the Imperial Espionage Service.
'What does "sort of" mean in this context?' Tithonus asked.
'He caught me stealing his golden phoenix.'
Tithonus closed his eyes briefly. 'Good grief!' He opened them again. 'I was half hoping it wasn't true. Have you any idea of the implications?'
'He was mistreating it!' Pyrgus protested.
'Of course he was mistreating it. This is Black Hairstreak we're talking about. He mistreats his own mother. I don't suppose you stole her as well?'
Pyrgus smiled despite himself and shook his head.
'What did you do with the bird?' Tithonus asked.
'Released it in the wild. I fed it first.'
Tithonus stared at him, then shook his head slowly. 'You fed it first. Pyrgus, do you even know what it costs to trap a golden phoenix?'
'No.'
'I thought not. But you do know Hairstreak is a powerful man?'
'That doesn't mean he's entitled to mistreat – '
'Spare me the lecture,' Tithonus cut in with a sigh. 'I happen to agree with you, but that's hardly the point. The point is that Hairstreak is a member of a Noble House – '