Heart of Gold

George helped the injured young man to his feet. The two of them limped off. Aubrey chewed his lip. 'It looks as if we're not the only ones looking for photographers.'

'Who else?'

'I recognised one of the kidnappers. He was one of the men who stole the Heart of Gold.'

Fourteen

MADAME CALVERT WAS WAITING FOR AUBREY AND George when they arrived back at the apartment building after snatching a late bite to eat. 'We have had a run on the banks today,' she announced.

Aubrey considered this and decided that it was something he couldn't be held responsible for. 'That's bad news. Are you inconvenienced?'

'The Prime Minister acted and closed them before too much damage was done. I'm sure it will right itself, but the government was nearly defeated in a motion of no confidence this afternoon.'

Again, Aubrey felt that he was free of blame here. 'Strange times, Madame Calvert, strange times.'

'There was a riot at the flower market, the river has stopped running and the earth itself is shaking.'

The disruption to the city was spreading. Aubrey had grave fears as to what would happen if the Heart of Gold were not returned. 'Why are you telling me this, Madame Calvert?'

She pursed her lips. 'I'm unhappy because Lutetia isn't at its best to host your father.'

Aubrey raised an eyebrow. 'Have you been reading my correspondence?'

'Of course not. I received a letter from him myself.'

George almost dropped his hat. 'Sir Darius sent a letter to you?'

Madame Calvert softened at this. 'We knew each other many years ago, when we were much younger, before he found his wife. We have kept in touch.'

Ah, so that's why Father suggested we should stay here, Aubrey thought. 'Father's letter said that this is an official visit, to show support and goodwill toward the Gallian government. Prime Minister Giraud is especially eager for him to come.'

'Should show the Holmlanders that the Albion–Gallia alliance is still strong,' George said.

'The Holmlanders and everyone else who is watching,' Aubrey said, then he glanced at George. 'That was a remarkably astute observation. You always swore that politics was a bore.'

George grinned. 'I'm undertaking a program to become a Renaissance man. Politics first, then painting, then I'll turn my hand to falconry. Or astronomy.'

'Should keep you busy.'

'A person needs a hobby.'

Madame Calvert tapped her foot on the tiled floor. 'Your parents will be staying at the embassy. Will you be joining them? Do I have to advertise your rooms?'

'No, no, we're comfortable here, aren't we, George?'

'Extremely.'

Madame Calvert frowned, sceptical. Aubrey decided that this was as positive as she would get this evening, so he excused himself. He and George hurried up the stairs to their rooms.

Fatigue descended on Aubrey as George unlocked the door to their suite. He leaned against the wall, but was pleased to find that the exhaustion seemed natural, the result of his exertions during the day. His soul seemed well content, snugly enclosed by the magical barrier of Monsieur Bernard's spell.

He yawned. 'George, I have to go to bed.'

George held the door open. 'I understand, old man.'

'Don't worry. I'm well, in no danger. I'm simply tired, that's all.'

'The spell's working?'

'I think so. I had planned to go out tonight, to see if we could do a spot of work on Bertie's family.' He yawned again. 'But I don't think I'm capable of it. Not now.'

'Sleep, that's the ticket. Get a good night's rest and we'll track down this Heart of Gold tomorrow.'

Aubrey lay on his bed and felt good, healthy sleep taking him up. He resisted it, revelling in the sensation, and thought about his father's imminent arrival.

Aubrey had a number of items to report. The mysterious attack at the airfield, von Stralick's revelation about rogue Holmland agents at large . . .

I'll put it in writing, he thought, just before he fell asleep. When I get a moment.

AUBREY OPENED HIS EYES AND NOTICED, STRAIGHTAWAY, that they weren't gritty from lack of sleep. He grinned and threw back the bedclothes.

Dancing with eagerness to go downstairs and tackle the day, he dressed, then splashed water on a face that didn't look wan in the mirror; when he brushed his hair, it shone with a lustre that he hadn't seen for days – and it all stayed on his head instead of being snagged in his brush.

Smiling, he almost floated down the stairs. He burst into the breakfast room, where he nearly tripped over at the aroma of coffee and fresh pastries. His mouth watered.

'Morning, Aubrey,' George said from a table by the streetside window. He flapped a newspaper. 'Give me a hand with this, will you, old man?'

Aubrey translated for George, while devouring a breakfast that tasted like heaven. The Saturday newspapers were full of reports on the riots, the earth tremors, the crisis with the banks, the strange condition of the river and the abduction of several photographers. None of them mentioned the Heart of Gold.

The bank crisis, apparently, had come from nowhere. In response, the Minister for Finance had conducted a long conference where he attributed it to rumours about dock-worker action, the failure of the grape crop, a rise in taxation and a rebellion in one of the tropical Gallian colonies, all of which he declared untrue.

The river phenomenon also took up much space, with ferrymen, bargees and those who dwelt near the river up in arms. Blame was apportioned to many, with the government the first choice, but manufacturers, farmers and minority groups – religious, cultural and foreign – also had the finger pointed at them.

Aubrey lingered over a small piece on page five. 'Listen to this, George. "A giant elk was seen on Truth Avenue yesterday. After charging at and scattering a pack of dogs, it escaped into the Talroy Gardens and has not been seen since. The creature's antlers were reported as gargantuan. It is said that the creature had been captured in the country and false antler extensions attached as a prank."'

'A prank? Not a terribly funny one. Especially for the dogs.'

'Do you know the nearest place you could get an elk? In this day and age?'

'Ooh, you might be able to find one in Senpathia. Lots of mountains there.'

'Can you imagine someone finding an elk there and transporting it hundreds of miles only to let it go in the middle of Lutetia as a prank?'

Aubrey rubbed his chin. Weren't the Talroy Gardens near the Liberty Gardens? Was this bizarre appearance another effect of the Heart of Gold?

'Doesn't make much sense to me,' George said. 'But Lutetians are such wild, romantic fools.'

'Too many strange things are happening in one place, George.'

George sipped his coffee. 'Sounds as if the whole city is breaking down.'