A voice came from the corner of the vault nearest the Old Man of Albion. 'Interesting idea, but no. I used magic. A neat little application of the Law of Opposites, actually.'
It was as if the space between Aubrey's Adam's apple and navel had been replaced by a block of ice. Slowly, he turned, while George let out an oath.
Dr Tremaine stepped forward, brushing dust from his shoulders.
Eighteen
'TREMAINE,' AUBREY GROWLED. HE'D GROWN TOO accustomed to the renegade's mercurial behaviour to be surprised at his appearance, but his casual demeanour made Aubrey extremely wary.
Dr Tremaine shook his head, as if Aubrey was a slow student. 'I was afraid you'd missed the implications of my little plan entirely. Luckily, you have Miss Hepworth to help you.'
He bowed in Caroline's direction. She gazed at him steadily with such venom that Aubrey was surprised the ex-Sorcerer Royal didn't drop dead on the spot.
'And your remarkably unimaginative friend even managed to play a part.'
'Who?' George said. 'Me? I'm offended by that, Tremaine.'
Tremaine bowed again. 'I aim not to disappoint.' He glanced at a watch on his wrist. 'Now, Fitzwilliam, I must say that your timing is abominable, as usual. Interrupting my important work like this? Most regrettable.'
The ex-Sorcerer Royal behaved as if he belonged in the vault of the Bank of Albion. Tall, broad-shouldered, with long black hair, he leaned against the wall and yawned. He wore a midnight blue frock coat, cutaway, and he held a cane. 'And just in case you were wondering why you couldn't see me as I stood here, listening to your ponderous deductions, I played around with Dimensionality, just like the batteries in the Electra.'
'That was you, then.'
'Sinking it was a daft idea, I tried telling the Holmlanders that. A waste of fine engineering. Nevertheless, heads of intelligence services will insist on having ideas of their own, won't they?' He held up his cane.
'Recognise this, Fitzwilliam? It should have a pearl on top, and I've a mind to reclaim it.'
'That can wait,' Aubrey said. His palms prickled with sweat.
'That's your problem, Fitzwilliam. You get your priorities mixed up. You put the public ahead of the personal.'
'I do? I mean, isn't that the way it should be?'
Dr Tremaine laughed. 'You couldn't be more wrong, my boy. The personal always comes first. Always, always, always. It's the only way to achieve anything.'
'Well, you're not achieving your goals with this little scheme, are you? We've messed it up for you, well and truly.'
Dr Tremaine clapped his hands together. 'That, of course, depends.'
'Depends? On what?'
'On your getting out of here alive.'
It was the combination that took Dr Tremaine by surprise. George roared and charged from his left, swinging the pry bar. At the same instant, while his attention was taken by the whistling length of steel, Caroline slipped up from behind.
But even then, Aubrey had bad feelings about this multiple attack. Tremaine was as far away from the traditional notion of a namby-pamby magician as one could get. He'd boxed several noted prize-fighters to standstill, both gloved and bare-knuckle. He was also a fine wrestler.
And he's the most powerful magician in the world.
Tremaine moved towards George's wild charge. He side-stepped just enough for the pry bar to hiss past his nose. This put George off balance and Dr Tremaine reached out, grabbed his arm and wrenched. George cartwheeled away and crashed into the wall.
With balletic ease, the ex-Sorcerer Royal pivoted in time to meet Caroline's challenge. He grinned like a crocodile. 'Ah, Miss Hepworth! I see you've been instructed by Master Wu. Very fine indeed!'
Caroline didn't answer. She turned side on and advanced.
Aubrey normally would have been fascinated to watch Caroline move so gracefully, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
He desperately needed to activate the magic suppressors.
Dr Tremaine was playing with George and Caroline. He didn't need to meet any physical challenges – he'd have a hundred spells he could use to disable them. But if Aubrey could make the magic suppressors work again, the odds could be evened – especially if Tremaine was unaware of this change of events.
Dr Tremaine said he'd used the Law of Opposites. Could it be as simple as thinking of the magic suppressors as having two possible states – active and inactive? With the correct spell, a magician could change the state of an object, flip-flopping from active to inactive, from hot to cold, from light to dark. The effect was simple, the spell fiendishly complex. Completely reversing a state, in its most fundamental aspects? Lanka Ravi's work suggested why this was difficult. Most magicians wouldn't even try.
But it was just the sort of thing Dr Tremaine would attempt – and succeed at. It was uncommon, difficult, and needed sheer brilliance to achieve.
And, Aubrey thought, it's a red herring.
Where Mordecai Tremaine was concerned, Aubrey had learned that jumping to conclusions was a deadly pastime. When an answer fitted perfectly, it had to be wrong. He had to find the solution behind the solution.
A spell couldn't work in the field of magic suppression cast by the devices, not even a clever spell using the Law of Opposites. Tremaine was lying, Aubrey should have known that.
But what did that leave? Aubrey sprinted for the nearest suppressor. He tore it open and scanned the contents feverishly.
Nothing.
He straightened to see the improbable sight of Dr Tremaine flying through the air, his coat flapping like a vast pair of wings. He lost his grip on his cane and it clattered onto the nearest stack of fairy gold. He landed like a sack of wheat thrown from a first-storey window, grunted, but rolled to his feet immediately. 'A fine throw, young lady,' he cried. He slapped at his coat, dusting himself off. 'But even Master Wu has his limitations, as you're about to find out.'
Aubrey's impulse was to help Caroline. But while she looked pale and strained Aubrey knew what a formidable fighter she was – he'd only get in the way. He raced for the next magic suppressor, knowing that all Tremaine had to do was disable one and the suppressors would be unable to generate a field.
Aubrey cursed. Its workings were exactly the same.
Except . . .
With a knuckle, he banged on the block of black ceramic in the middle of the box. It made a hollow noise, as if it were a mere eggshell. Gritting his teeth, he made a fist. He punched the ceramic and it shattered.
Inside was the workings of a clock.
Aubrey actually turned away and then looked back, unwilling to believe his eyes. The second time, he realised that while the gears and springs may have been clockwork, it had never driven a pair of hands to tell the time. It was a machine set to disable the magic suppressor.