‘Don’t wait for him,’ von Stralick said sourly as Kiefer galloped out. ‘He could be a long time. Difficult places, kitchens.’
Aubrey hesitated. A simple spell, he thought and then tucked away the notebook. No need to scratch out anything.
A tiny cautious voice insisted otherwise, but with Caroline and George watching, he found it easy to ignore it. ‘Right. Let’s see what’s going on with this pearl.’
He decided to use Tartessian, a difficult ancient language he’d been studying at university. He told himself he wasn’t showing off. His decision was based solely on his need to practise it. The simple matter of not having used it before in an active spell didn’t seem dreadfully important.
He placed the velvet bag in the centre of the table. Then he settled the pearl on it. He adopted what he hoped was a commanding pose – arms extended, brow furrowed – while trying to ignore Caroline rolling her eyes. Striving for a deep, thrilling timbre, he started with terms outlining the direction of the spell and the vicinity, then rolled out the variables for intensity and duration, emphasising the lightest possible touch. The plosives of the Tartessian language caused him momentary alarm, but he thought he managed them well as he brought the spell to a conclusion. A tiny flourish of a signature, and it was done.
The pearl exploded.
Nine
Aubrey shook himself and sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. I see, he thought, looking around and steadfastly refusing to be surprised. We’re in a dungeon.
They were all in various aspects of disarray. George was sprawled against the rough stone block wall, groaning. Eyes closed, von Stralick was on his back on one of the four straw mattresses. The only one who didn’t look distressed was Caroline. Aubrey was greatly relieved to see that she was unharmed, standing at the door – heavy wood, massive iron hinges, a single peephole – with her ear to its surface. She saw him looking at her and she held up a finger, demanding his silence.
He was happy to comply. It gave him a chance to make sense of the waves of magic that were rolling over him from ... where?
Such was the enveloping nature of the magic, he didn’t have to concentrate or extend his magical senses. The weight of it pressed on him from all directions. It made his skin tingle, his bones itch, and sent a play of contradictory tastes flickering across his tongue. Odd sensations that weren’t smells slid through his nostrils, making him wrinkle his nose and paw at it, trying to dislodge the birdsong that was caught there.
The overwhelming effect was disconcerting, to say the least, but Aubrey – strangely – didn’t find it unpleasant. The magic had been shaped and wrought, it had a single-mindedness of purpose. But for what?
‘Nothing,’ Caroline said as she descended the three stairs that led to the door. She shook her head in disgust and wiped her hands together.
‘Nothing?’
‘No sounds. We’ve either been forgotten or the guards are asleep.’
‘Guards?’
Caroline gave him a pitying look. ‘We’re in a dungeon, Aubrey. What’s a dungeon without guards?’
Aubrey considered this for a moment. He glanced at the others. George had levered himself up and was leaning against the wall looking dazed. Von Stralick was still unconscious.
‘Caroline,’ he ventured. ‘How did we get here?’
‘Really, Aubrey, that blow on your head must have been worse than I thought. You shouldn’t have struggled so when they burst in.’
Aubrey stood. He did it slowly, distracted for a moment by the bizarre sensation of tasting tartan. ‘I shouldn’t have struggled when they burst in?’
‘You argued at first, as usual, then you struggled.’
‘With whom?’
‘With ... With...’ Caroline frowned. ‘They came to get us and brought us here.’
‘Of course they did. We were abducted. How else would we wind up here?’ Aubrey went to the wall and put his palm against it. He bit his lip. The magic was coming from the walls. Or through them? ‘Do you remember the journey?’
‘What are you getting at, Aubrey?’ Caroline came close, glancing at the others. It was not an altogether unpleasant situation, Aubrey decided, Caroline’s deciding to come nearer to him.
‘The journey,’ he said in a hushed voice and had the pleasure of her leaning closer. ‘How did it take place? How did we get from von Stralick’s place to here? Motorcar? Omnibus? Airship?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ she said, but a frown creased her perfect brow.
‘Humour me.’
‘I...’ She shook her head and looked angry, fetchingly angry, rather than frightened. ‘What’s going on here?’
‘We’re trapped in a metaphor, I think.’ He slapped the stone wall. ‘Although I think this one has gone right through the other side of metaphor into the realm of cliché.’
‘You’re being obscure again. I warned you about that.’
‘The pearl, Caroline. Remember the pearl?’
‘Oh.’ Caroline’s eyes opened wide. ‘I’d forgotten. We were gathered around the table. You were posturing, ready to do your magic, and then...’
Aubrey winced a little at the ‘posturing’. ‘And then we were here.’ He swept an arm around. ‘This place is reeking with magic of the Tremaine sort. We’ve been transported here. I must have triggered something.’
‘Kiefer isn’t here because he wasn’t close enough to be swept up?’
At that moment, von Stralick sat up and rubbed his eyes. ‘Where am I?’
‘And the cliché is complete,’ Aubrey said.
Von Stralick scowled. ‘If this place is a metaphor, as you say, then shouldn’t we approach it on that level? Shouldn’t we look to escape? Trick the guards? Tunnel out of here? Bend the bars and squeeze through?’
George turned from looking out of the barred window. ‘I’m not sure if that would be a good idea.’
Aubrey had to stand on tiptoes; he wasn’t really surprised at what he saw.
The window looked onto a shaft. It was square, some ten yards across. Across from their window was an identically barred window. Aubrey looked up and he groaned. The shaft stretched up as far as he could see. Thousands, tens of thousands of barred windows disappeared into infinity. He looked down and saw the same depressing scene.
A tap on the shoulder. ‘Make a stirrup, Aubrey.’
He blinked as Caroline slipped off her shoes. She held her dress up over her ankles while Aubrey fumbled to lace his hands together. It was no effort to lift her, and soon she was gripping the bars and staring at the improbable sight that lay outside.
Aubrey found his head resting against her knee. Solely to retain balance, he told himself, but he wished that her inspection would go on forever.
‘You can let me down now,’ Caroline said.
‘Are you sure? Take your time. I mean, there are a lot of windows out there.’
‘I’ve seen enough.’
He lowered her reluctantly. She took his shoulders to help herself down. ‘Thank you, Aubrey. You’re very useful, sometimes.’
Lost for words, and lost in the moment, he nodded. Then he straightened a tie that he felt must have deviated by at least half a degree from the vertical.
‘Please,’ von Stralick said with a knowing smile, ‘if you’ll step aside, I too would like to see this amazing sight that has rendered you speechless.’
Aubrey backed away and stumbled into George, who was hunched over and attacking the wall with a penknife. He grinned at Aubrey. ‘If I have my clichés right, the mortar should be weak around one of these blocks.’