The connector was about the thickness of a fire hose. It hovered between them, undulating slightly as if weightless, and with a ghostliness about it that signalled its preternatural qualities. It was like an object that had moved while being photographed, making it slightly blurred. Nonetheless, it was familiar. It belonged to him. It had an Aubreyness about it that he could feel, but it was mixed with the overpowering presence of Dr Tremaine.
He recalled that Dr Tremaine hadn’t uttered a spell before he grasped the connector. This suggested that the ability to do so must be inherent, part of the natural expression of the connection itself and the people it connected.
Aubrey glanced at Dr Tremaine. He had lowered the connector and had placed both hands in front of him. He was rubbing them together slowly. His eyes didn’t move from contemplating the connector itself.
Slowly, Aubrey shifted his stance. Tiny, tiny movements, nothing to concern anyone, and soon he was turned sideways to Dr Tremaine, his body shielding what he was about to do next.
Without taking his eyes from the connector, he extended his left hand. Delicately, he touched it with his fingers – and had to steel himself against the flood of sensation. Mingled with a welter of confusion, he had the sensation of utter familiarity. This was something that belonged to him, as recognisable as his own nose.
He grasped the connector more firmly, barely daring to breathe. Then, with his other hand, he scratched his head.
Such an innocent movement, he hoped that Dr Tremaine – if he were aware at all – would see it for what it was. Harmless. Not threatening in any way – so Aubrey could drop his hand from his head to join the other one grasping the connector.
At that, Dr Tremaine looked up – in time to see Aubrey to seize the connector and heave.
Aubrey had steadied himself, ready for the effort, and he put his back into it, dragging for all he was worth. Dr Tremaine was taken completely by surprise. He bellowed, pulled forward and entirely off balance. Before he could use his extraordinary reflexes to recover himself, though, Aubrey snapped the connector like a whip.
A great curve hurtled along the connector and Dr Tremaine’s forward staggering motion was instantly arrested. He was flung backward and crashed into the wall behind him.
The connector dissolved – and Aubrey had his chance.
The exposed beam that divided the room in half was integral to supporting the weight of the two storeys on top of it. Using the most powerful magic he could summon quickly, Aubrey altered its dimensions. In an instant, the beam became a single point – and thereby incapable of holding the weight of the building above it.
So, as Aubrey leaped for the door, the building collapsed.
The thunderous crash behind him sent a billow of dust through the door and a gust of displaced air that threw him off his feet, but by then he had enough momentum to roll, come to his feet, and continue running. He hunched his shoulders as he went, fully expecting a shot or a bolt of snarling magic, but it was from in front that he had to worry, as four Holmland troops rushed around the corner ahead of him.
Without losing a beat he kept running. ‘Hurry!’ he cried in Holmlandish and pointing back the way he’d come. ‘The ceiling collapsed! People are trapped!’
When in a place of fear and doubt, he thought, a man who is certain is bound to be followed. The guards didn’t spare him a glance. They hurried past, eager to do their duty.
Then the lights went out and Aubrey cheered.
Not the best idea, he thought as he heard voices shouting nearby. Drawing attention to oneself by cheering in the middle of a disaster was the sort of thing that attracted attention, but the darkness – in this case – was his friend.
He set off, with Caroline on his mind. While he ran, a man on a much adapted, much disrupted mission, he helped matters by shouting ‘Fire!’, ‘Intruders!’ and ‘Beer!’ at regular intervals whenever a startled face showed itself.
Some time later – five minutes? ten? – he parked himself in a closed doorway for a moment, to catch his breath and appraise the situation while confused Holmlanders rushed up and down, shouting. He fumbled in his pocket for Caroline’s ring. While her efforts to get it to him were eminently practical in terms of rope slicing, he had another, equally practical, use for it.
He could use it to find her.
Once outside, he had a moment of wonder when he saw the results of his spell. In the light from the other wings and the rising sun, he could see that the entire eastern end of the administration wing had collapsed into a mass of rubble. Giant wooden beams protruded from the ruin of plaster, brick and tile. Water gushed from a lonely pipe, while dozens of Holmlanders ran about in shock.
The enspelled ring led Aubrey to a room in the original building, high up in one of the towers. A short corridor, four cells, two opening on either side, and two guards who Aubrey was sure were nervously wondering what the uproar was all about. From the concealment of the stairwell, Aubrey cast a small spell that shifted the air away from the faces of each of the guards, thanks to the Law of Transference. The eyes of one rolled up, then the other, and they slid down the wall, unconscious. Aubrey cancelled the spell and used the keys from the belt of one of the guards to free Caroline.
She was ready, standing at the door, alert and ravishing in her intensity. ‘Aubrey.’
‘Caroline.’
‘You’re unharmed?’
‘Yes. And you?’
‘I’m well, thank you.’
‘That’s splendid.’
With a touch of asperity, she raised an eyebrow. ‘Now we’ve established our excellent standard of health, may we escape?’
‘Ah. One moment.’ Aubrey held out her ring. ‘It’s yours. I used it to find you.’
An odd expression crossed Caroline’s face. Aubrey’s heart expanded, then contracted in an aching motion. She shook her head. ‘Keep it. You never know.’
‘Good idea.’
‘Speaking of ideas, have you a plan for getting out of here?’
He grinned. ‘Oh, you’re going to like this one.’
Thirty-four
So we’re safe for the moment,’ Caroline said, her back against the concrete. She peered through the elephant’s eyes at the chaos, firelight adding a weird orange cast to the proceedings. Near the ruin, Aubrey could see the baron raging about, trying to restore order while organising the troops to fight the fire that Aubrey’s hasty wall removal had brought about. ‘What’s your plan?’
‘George, that generator won’t be fixed soon?’
George grinned. ‘I shouldn’t say so. Not with the amount of ironmongery Sophie managed to get into the turbine.’
‘While you fought off three of their operators,’ Sophie said admiringly. She had taken up position next to the still-unconscious Théo. ‘I did what I could.’
‘I don’t expect the fourth fellow was expecting your elbow jab to his forehead. I’m sure he’s regretting grabbing you from behind like that.’
Sophie rubbed the aforementioned elbow. ‘We dragged them all from the building before the generator expired,’ she explained. ‘I’m glad.’
So was Aubrey. He had no interest in slaughter. He quickly told George and Sophie what they’d found in the warehouse. Their faces hardened when he explained how the brains of the wounded soldiers had been harnessed to both animate the creatures and make them so formidable.
‘We can’t let this go on,’ George said.
‘It shan’t,’ Caroline said. ‘Aubrey has taken care of that.’
‘Good show. But we still need to report this back to Albion.’