"I might be Susan Rodway. Or Susan Ames. Mum got remarried, and I have a choice."
"I know exactly who you are," said Leech. "Shade, why didn't you say you had her? She's not Rose Farrar or an Elder of the Kind, but she's a bloody good start."
Susan began primping a bit at the attention. Jamie couldn't believe she'd let this hand-kissing creep smarm her up like that. He'd never understand birds.
"Now, Sewell," said Leech, addressing his instant orderly. "Get on the blower and tell Miss Kaye to pull her finger out. The telephone kit is in the laboratory down the hall — the room with the tied-up-and-gagged idiot in it. It's simple to use. You'll have the specs for it in your head somewhere."
Head meekly trotted out of the room. He was taking orders without question.
Leech looked over the four of them — Jamie, Gene, Susan, Keith.
"Susan," he said, "can you do something about the room temperature?"
Susan, bizarrely, seemed smitten. "I can try," she said, and shut her eyes.
A little warmth radiated from her. Some icicles started dripping. Jamie felt his face pricking, as feeling returned.
"Good girl," said Leech. "You, young fellow-me-lad. Any chance of getting some tea going?"
"Give it a try, sir," said Keith, hunting a kettle.
Jamie already resented Derek Leech. For a start, he had released all those triple LPs of moaning woodwind hippies which got played over and over in student common rooms. Even if he weren't the literal Devil, that alone made him a man not to be trusted. But he was magnetic in person, and Jamie felt a terrible tug — it would be easier to go along with Leech, to take orders, to not be responsible for the others. Dad could be like that too, but he always drummed it into Jamie that he should become his own man. Dad didn't even disapprove of him being in a band rather than joining the night-wars — though he realized he'd done that anyway, as well. If he was the new Dr Shade, he was also a different Shade.
It was Leech's world too. If this big freeze was spreading, it was his interest to side with the angels. If everyone was dead, no one would make a deal with him. No one would buy his crappy music or read his raggy papers.
Jamie saw that Gene was sceptical of anything Leech-related, but Susan and Keith were sucked in. Keith had found his grownup, his teacher. Susan had found something she needed too. Jamie had been revising his impression of her all day. Leech saw at once that she was the most useful Talent in their crowd. Jamie hadn't even noticed her at first, and he had been around Talents all his life. Susan Rodway was not only Shade-level or better in her abilities, but extremely good at keeping it to herself. She kept talking about the things she couldn't do, or making light of the things she could.
Leech had been briefly interested in Jamie, in Dr Shade — but he had instantly passed over him, and latched onto Susan.
He realized — with a tiny shock — that he was jealous. But of whom? Susan, for going to the head of the class? Or Leech, for getting the girl's attention? There wasn't time for this.
"What did you say about Richard Jeperson?" Gene asked Leech.
Jamie knew Jeperson was Fred and Vanessa's guv'nor at the Diogenes Club. He tied in with Gene too.
"Mad, definitely," said Leech, with just a hint of pleasure. "Dead, probably. The Cold took him — it's a thinking thing, not just bad weather — and he went outside, naked. He lay down and let himself be buried. I tried to stop him, but he fought like a tiger, knocked me out… gave me this." Leech indicated a fresh wound on his forehead.
"Stone in a snowball," he said. "Playground trick."
Gene thought a few moments and said, "We've got to go out and find him. He might still be alive. He's not helpless. He's a Talent too. If he's buried, we can dig him up."
"I think that's a good idea," said Leech.
Anything Leech thought was a good idea was almost certainly good mostly or only for him. But Jamie couldn't see any alternative. He knew that Fred would give him a right belting if he let Jeperson die.
"Okay, I'll go," he said. "Gene, Susan, stay here. Give Mr Leech any help he needs…" That is, keep a bloody eye on him! Gene, though worried for her friend, picked that up.
Leech was bland, mild, innocent.
"Keith," said Jamie, at last. "Find a shovel or something, and come with me."
Keith, infuriatingly, looked to Leech — who gave him the nod.
"Come on, find someone useful inside you. Let's get this rescue party on the road!"
Keith gulped and said, "O-okay, Jamie."
XI
Derek Leech was on the telephone again. Really, the man had the most terrible manners. He had some minion bother Catriona, then brushed her aside because he wanted to talk with Maureen Mount-main, of all people. Catriona passed the receiver to the woman, who listened — to her master's voice? — and clucked. Yes, Mr Leech, no Mr Leech, three bags bloody full, Mr Leech… Catriona caught herself: this was no time to be a cranky old woman.
The Cold was getting into the Manor House, overwhelming Louise Teazle's bubble of summer. Frost grew on the insides of the windows. Sleet and snow rattled against the panes.
In the gloom of the gardens, drifts and banks shifted like beasts.
Catriona had pain in her joints, and was irritated. She could list other age-related aches and infirmities, exacerbated by the Cold.
Only Rose Farrar and Ariadne were immune. Rose skipped around the drawing room, exhaling white clouds. Ariadne stood by the fireplace — where the wood wouldn't light, and shivers of snow fell on tidy ashes — and smoked a cigarette in a long, elegant holder.
Paulette Michaelsmith shivered in her sleep, and Louise rearranged her day-blanket without any effect. Karabatsos and his wife huddled together. Mr Zed was white. Swami Anand Gitamo chanted mantras, but his nose was blue. Lark and Cross, the white-coats, passed the china teapot between them, pressing their hands against the last of its warmth. Even Anthony Jago, who feared not the ice and fire of Hell, had his hands in his armpits. The house itself creaked more than usual.
"Richard?" exclaimed Maureen. "Are you sure?"
Catriona, who had been trying not to listen, had a spasm of concern. Maureen had blurted out the name in shock. She and Richard had…
Maureen hung up, cutting off Catriona's train of thought. The room looked to Maureen for a report.
"Derek needs us all," she said. "He needs us to hurt the Cold."
A lot of people talked at once, then shut up.
"Catriona," said Maureen, fists pressed together under her impressive bosom, "your man Richard Jeperson is lost."
"Lost?"
"Probably dead. I'm sorry, truly. Derek says he tried to reach the Cold, and it took him. It's a monster, and wants to kill us all. We have to hit it with all we've got, now. All our big guns, he says. Maybe it can't be killed, but can be hurt. Driven back to its hole."
A tear dribbled from Maureen's eye.
"Reverend Jago, Lady Elder, Rose… you're our biggest guns. Just tear into the Cold. Miss Teazle, work on Mrs Michaelsmith — direct her. Think of the heat-wave. Karabatsos, clear a circle and make a summoning. A fire elemental. The rest of you, pray. That's not a figure of speech. The only way we can beat this thing is with an enormous spiritual attack."
The news about Richard was a terrible blow. Catriona let Maureen go on with her "to arms" speech, trying to take it in. She was not a sensitive in the way any of these Talents were, but she was not a closed mind. And Maureen had said Richard was only probably dead.
Mr and Mrs Karabatsos were the first to act. They rolled aside a carpet and began chalking a circle on the living room floor.