"Not so fast! You want to cross over, Smedley?"
"All three of you will cross over!” Miss Pimm said sharply. “It is the only way to put you out of the Blighters’ reach. I have better things to do than guard you twenty-four hours a day, Edward."
"Not me! My duty is to enlist. I will not return to Nextdoor."
Miss Pimm's eyes narrowed dangerously, as if she considered ordering him to wash out his mouth with soap. “Then why did you go to Harrow Hill?"
Exeter was looking dangerous himself, or at least implacably stubborn. “I have a message to send, that is all. There is a traitor in Olympus, but if Julian is going, then he can tell them for me."
"Who?” she demanded.
"Jumbo Watson!"
"Absolute rubbish! I have known Mr. Watson for—for more years than you would believe."
Exeter sighed and shook his head. “I would very much like to agree with you, ma'am. I like Jumbo personally, like him a lot. But remember he was Home in 1912? Somebody tipped off the Blighters where the guv'nor was hiding."
"No, they didn't. Soapy Maclean came over by way of the Valley of the Kings. That portal had been compromised. We did not confirm that until much later. The only person to use it since was Colonel Creighton, in 1914, and there was so much confusion that summer that he managed to shake off the followers he had acquired."
"Really?” There was an oddly pleading expression on Exeter's face.
"Certainly. Jumbo was confident that your father would still oppose the Liberator prophecies and would try to prevent your fulfilling them—he had no motive to kill Cameron and Rona Exeter. Furthermore, the Blighters obviously believed that they had caught you in the massacre. They ignored you for two years after that. Jumbo knew you were at school in England, although I would not tell him where. You cannot blame Nyagatha on Jumbo, Edward."
Exeter sighed. “I'm glad! But he was the one who dumped me on the battlefield. It was a deliberate attempt to kill me, and it was certainly Jumbo who did that. Even if he wasn't the rat at Nyagatha, he's a rat now."
Miss Pimm frowned and bit her lip. After a moment she said, “I cannot recall anyone from Nextdoor ever crossing over by way of Belgium. That is not a portal known to the Service. So who told Jumbo about it?"
"Zath, I expect. The Chamber."
"Of course. Cannot we go a little faster, Mr. Stringer? We have a long way to go."
"I am a nervous wreck!"
"You will be a physical one also, if you try to resist me now."
Exeter caught Smedley's eye and grinned. Miss Pimm was a most formidable lady.
"Faster!” she said. “Undoubtedly the Chamber informed Jumbo, Edward. But how? They must have an agent within the Service, but who? If Jumbo were here, we could ask him who told him about that portal. We could ask him who taught him the key, and who assured him that there was a tended node at this end—which I assume he told you was the case? You were deceived by someone you trusted, but perhaps that person had been deceived also?"
Exeter was nodding.
"You are making charges of the most serious nature,” she continued. “Undoubtedly, the Service will bring whoever is responsible to trial and impose the death penalty if he is convicted."
"I will drink to that."
"But is Jumbo the culprit, or was he duped? Captain Smedley is an unknown on Nextdoor. He is also—forgive me, Captain—a man who has recently undergone a grave ordeal. If he turns up unannounced in Olympus mouthing accusations of treason against one of the Service's oldest and most senior officers, then he is not likely to receive a serious hearing. At the very least, the individual responsible will have enough warning to make his escape. If you want revenge, Edward, if you want justice, then you must deliver the message yourself. An accused person has the right to face his accusers."
Now that was telling him, Smedley decided joyfully. Exeter obviously agreed, for his frown was thunderous.
Alice was smiling. She was pretty when she smiled, not at all horsey.
Exeter said quietly. “My duty is to enlist."
A shadow of exasperation passed over Miss Pimm's crabby face. “Spoken like a true Englishman,” she said cryptically. “But to do so here would be rank stupidity. I cannot guarantee that I shall always be available to pull you out of the wreckage. I will make you a much better proposition. Do you know the sacred grove of Olipain?"
"In Randorvale? I know where it is."
"And you can get there from Olympus?"
"It's not far. Three or four days’ walk."
"Very well. I shall teach you the key to it. It leads to a tended portal in New Zealand. In fact, that was how your father came Home in ninety. Your mother was born not far from there."
She paused, but Exeter just waited for her to finish, eyes steady and unreadable.
"You will return to Olympus this evening, taking Miss Prescott and Captain Smedley. When you have laid your charges and given your evidence—when honor is satisfied, and I know I can trust your judgment on that—then you can make your own way to the grove of Olipain. You will not need to ask the Committee's permission, fair enough? That key requires no additional drummer. You will enlist in New Zealand. The Dominion forces are playing a noble part in this war. The chances of your ever being recognized in their theaters of operation are remote. That is a reasonable compromise, is it not?"
"I have no intention,” Exeter said icily, “of sitting out this war guarding some bloody sheep farm on the wrong side of the—"
Smedley exploded. After he had outlined the Gallipoli Campaign and the reputation Anzac forces had earned on the Western Front, he subsided as suddenly as he began. He apologized to the ladies for his language. He had rather surprised himself, and he had certainly astonished Exeter.
"I didn't know!” He swallowed. “I'll have to swot up on all this! But I apologize. I accept your generous offer, ma'am."
"That is settled then!"
"Not me!” Alice roused herself for the first time, sitting up straight and seeming to pull herself together. “I stay here."
"Alice!” Exeter said.
Smedley wanted to tell him that he was being a fool. She kept a man's dressing gown in her flat. A woman had greater loyalties than cousins. For a moment nobody spoke.
At last Alice said, “No, Edward. I warned you. I have my reasons, Miss Pimm."
Miss Pimm nodded.
Exeter moaned. “Alice? Please? The Blighters may come after you!"
"No, Edward. If they are using me as a Judas goat, then I think I will be more valuable to them alive than dead. Correct, Miss Pimm?"
"I hope so. One cannot tell, but it may be so. You must go faster, Mr. Stringer. I shall warn you if there is any traffic coming."
"There is a car behind us. It has been there for some time, a Bentley, I think. Is it a threat?"
She closed her eyes for a moment. “Nobody I recognize. I shall watch them, though. Carry on. Now, do not be tiresome, Edward. Your cousin is quite old enough to make her own decisions."
"But—"
"No buts. Attend carefully, please, Captain Smedley. All portal keys are very ancient and very complicated. They involve rhythm, words, and a dance pattern. They arouse primitive emotions to attune the mind to the virtuality. Think of that as sanctity."
"Exeter described them.” Smedley had begun to feel excited again. “He mentioned beating drums, though, and I'm short a few fingers now."
"I don't think that will matter, as long as someone is drumming for you. Have you ever felt a sense of uplift in church, when the anthem soars?"
"Um. Yes, I suppose so."
"You are not tone-deaf, I hope? You can dance?"
"No and yes, respectively.” His leg was throbbing like the dickens, but he could move it.