So when I entered the study that morning, the fire was unlit and the blackout curtains drawn. I opened them myself, letting them rattle in their great rings, and was gazing sleepily out into the street when he said behind me, “Hello again, Alicia.”
I turned, my heart thumping.
He had not changed by even the growth of a hair. Small and uniformed, his hair lank, his glasses blue discs, he stood on my hearthrug and smiled that twisted smile that had no warmth.
“You!” I gasped. Not my most original retort, I admit, but I was so shocked to see him out of the mirror. It leaned behind him. One of my china dogs lay smashed on the tiles of the grate.
“I hope you don’t mind me appropriating your parlor.” He waved a small hand. “I intend to meet someone here.”
I stared, astonished.
“In fact, they should be here any moment now.”
“Is it David?” I confess my voice quavered.
He smiled. “Ah yes. You have wasted all your life waiting for David. How pitiful a thing that is.”
Now, I take pity from no one. I rose, drew myself to my full height, and said, “My dear sir, I have waited for anyone who would come from the Other Side. My father and I spent many years contemplating our next visitor. And be assured, we did not waste our time.”
And with what I hope was a suitably grandiloquent gesture, I put my hand up and tugged at the lever hidden discreetly behind the curtains.
The concertinaed cage crashed down from the ceiling.
Electric wiring crackled on.
Janus stood startled and unmoving in the trap that for years had been awaiting him.
To say I felt satisfied would be too inadequate a word. I really felt rather gleeful. I turned, sat demurely upon my sofa, folded my hands, and contemplated my handiwork. A tyrant from the end of time was my prisoner. It was really rather gratifying.
Janus said nothing. He reached out curiously as if to touch the steel bars but I said quickly, “I would not wish you to harm yourself. There is a charge of twenty-five volts throbbing through that metal as we speak, enough to give you quite a nasty shock. My dear papa designed the whole apparatus.”
“Did he now.” Janus nodded, folding his arms. He looked at the mirror, safely beyond his reach. “My dear lady, I congratulate you. I really do.”
“I’m only sorry you have no chair in there. I have no wish to make you uncomfortable.”
He gazed out at me. The blue lenses of his glasses hid his eyes, and that made him so difficult to read. But with dismay I became aware that he was not as devastated as I had hoped.
So I said, “I am quite aware that you are using my séances as a cover for some fiendish device to trap me. Your men are continually watching my house. Really, it’s ridiculous.”
He looked amused. “My men? You really don’t understand anything, do you?”
I looked smug. “I have hidden all the evidence about my father’s device in a safe place. You will never find it.”
He shook his head. Then he said in a voice as silky as poison, “Alicia, you are perhaps the most foolish old woman I have ever met.”
I bristled. “Well, I’m not the one in the cage,” I snapped.
“Ah yes. The cage. So may I ask what you intend to do with me?” he asked softly.
In truth, I had no idea. We had expected David, or Jake. We had expected to be able to demand the bracelet in exchange for their release. But I merely shrugged. “I have my plans,” I said, deadpan.
His smile was fixed. “Indeed. Well, so do I, madam. And here they come.”
The mirror hummed. I leaped to my feet and stood well back, hastily grabbing the remaining china dog and hugging it to my bosom.
The whole room seemed to collapse. A terrifying vacuum opened deep in the heart of the mirror.
My hair was torn from its pins, my skirts snatched and whirled, my very soul enticed. And I saw, for one appalling second, the blackness that lies at the heart of the universe.
Maskelyne turned the pages of Sarah’s diary with his long fingers, reading silently. Behind him, Piers fidgeted impatiently against the table. “So you see? She’s been in contact with Janus all this time! And it says children. What children? Those replicants?”
“Almost certainly.”
“Well, we know what to do about that.” Piers fished a great bunch of keys out of his striped waistcoat and hurried to a small wall safe. Opening it, he brought out a cellophane-covered package and carried it carefully back. Maskelyne, hearing the rustle of the plastic being unwrapped, looked up.
Piers was holding the glass gun that could kill replicants.
“That’s mine,” Maskelyne said at once. He put the book down and took the weapon firmly from the little man’s nervous grip. “Don’t handle it unless you need to. It’s a very dangerous thing.”
Piers made an odd grimace. “Don’t want to. It makes my skin itch.” He sidled closer, watching Maskelyne check the weapon, slide open a panel in it, adjust a small glowing dial in there. “Is it still working?”
“Yes.”
Piers shivered. “Good. Because something tells me we’re going to need it.”
Outside, the crack and slither of earth seemed to shudder through the damp walls.
Maskelyne placed the gun carefully on the table. “Listen to me, Piers. From what Sarah writes here, these replicants have appeared to Jake. Been targeting Jake, I would say. Janus has been implanting prophecies in his ear—only too easy to do, if you come from the far future.”
Piers crowded closer. “What prophesies?”
“The Black Fox will release you was the first. That came true. Then The Man with the Eyes of a Crow.” He frowned. “Given the dates on the mirror, I have an idea what that may be. But what is this Box of Red Brocade? It contains something vital, that’s clear. Something Janus wants and can’t get, so he needs Sarah to get it for him. Therefore something she desires.” He looked up.
Piers stared back, eyes wide. “The Zeus coin! Yes, but Janus can reach anywhere in time. If he knows where it is, why not get it himself and . . .”
Maskelyne began pacing, a lean, dark figure in the gloomy lab, lifting a hand. “Stop talking, and just think about it. The coin—if reassembled—will destroy the mirror. Janus doesn’t want that, so he needs to keep the two pieces safe and apart. Who knows, maybe he’s got the left side himself. The box must hold the right half of the coin, the piece Sarah gave to Summer. That must mean it’s in the only place, the only dimension Janus cannot access. And it needs to stay there.”
They looked at each other across the malachite labyrinth.
“The Summerland,” Piers said gloomy.
“The Summerland.” Maskelyne stood in front of the mirror, gazing at its blackness. “That’s where it is. That’s where it’s safe. If Sarah brings it out . . . that’s exactly what Janus wants.”
For a moment they were silent. Then Piers said, “What about you. You don’t want that either.”
“No. I don’t.” Maskelyne put the gun on the table and they stared at each other over it.
“Venn needs to know,” he said.