Word of Honour

Then the nearest embedded urchin opened his eyes. Aubrey would have screamed if he had been able.

'Oh yes,' Dr Tremaine said, chuckling at Aubrey's distress. 'They're still alive. Alive and vital. It's the vitality that is useful, after all, feeding into the process. Human consciousness and great magic go hand in hand. Magic, the universe, humanity, all intertwined, all available for manipulation.' He pointed with his cane. 'And we have all sorts of other life wired as part of this beautiful creation too, to add to the piquancy of the creation. I was particularly interested in life that we found down here. Indigenous to the area, you might say.'

'Put them away, Tremaine,' Rokeby-Taylor said. His face was drawn and haggard; his eyes darted uncertainly. He swallowed before continuing. 'Just put them away, there's a good fellow.'

Dr Tremaine gave Rokeby-Taylor a look that very clearly said that he wasn't anyone's good fellow, but he growled out another spell. With a chuff of steam, the cube and its supports shunted away until it was an undistinguishable part of the structure again.

'We have life aplenty embedded in the array,' Dr Tremaine went on, as if Rokeby-Taylor hadn't interrupted. 'Rats – thousands of them – pigeons, bats, a surprising number of foxes, a few badgers. And humans. Nothing like a bit of human to add vigour to a spell, I always say.'

The ex-Sorcerer Royal crossed his arms. He contemplated the majesty of the cold fire. Its light flickered on his profile.

'But not them, Tremaine,' Rokeby-Taylor said. 'Not the Prime Minister's son. Not the girl.'

Aubrey immediately felt offended – and concerned – on George's behalf. And it felt grubby, having his life pleaded for by Rokeby-Taylor. He wanted to go and have a good wash.

The cold light lingered on Tremaine's face. 'Are you still sure you want to do this, Rokeby-Taylor? Do you really want to destroy the greatest city in the world?'

Rokeby-Taylor fumbled with his tie. 'It was your idea.'

'Naturally it was my idea. No-one else in the world would have been capable of conceiving such a thing. Animating Trinovant? Only Mordecai Tremaine would dare. Urbomancy is not something that small minds can contemplate.'

Urbomancy. Of course. Aubrey closed his eyes. Dr Tremaine was not a man for small plans. Trinovant in this era was different from the urban civilisations of the past. Not even the Romans, fine engineers though they were, had the extensive underground skeleton that electricity, gas, water, sewerage and transportation provided. Tremaine was using it to animate all Trinovant.

The horror came to him with swift, punishing clarity. Railway tracks rising like giant serpents, intertwining and crushing buildings. Electrical wires lashing panicked pedestrians. Pipes wrenching themselves from the ground and flattening entire neighbourhoods, before jetting gas, steam and water to wreak havoc. The earth itself rising, held together by the web of power, shedding itself of shops, homes and palaces the same way a dog shakes off fleas.

He felt sick.

'It's beyond me,' Rokeby-Taylor said, but then he looked sharply at Dr Tremaine. 'Not that I have a small mind, Tremaine.'

'Of course not.' Dr Tremaine pressed both hands together. He strolled over and brought his face close to Aubrey's. 'Now, my interfering friend. Soon you will belong to the city in a way of which you couldn't even dream.'

Aubrey decided that Dr Tremaine had a very low opinion of his dreaming abilities.

He was experiencing a peculiar mixture of emotions. He was scared, but that seemed natural enough in the circumstances. However, it wasn't the crippling fear of panic; it was the heart-thumping fear of consequences, the hollow pit of the stomach that came from thinking what could happen if they couldn't get out of this.

But understanding where his fear came from had helped him control it. It was almost as if he'd managed to pack it into a box and park it in a corner. This cleared his thinking so he could train it on trying to devise a way out of their predicament. The trouble was, nothing came to mind – except an understanding of what Dr Tremaine was planning.

For the lack of anything better, Aubrey began to struggle. Dr Tremaine threw his head back and laughed. 'At last! Someone who doesn't disappoint me!' Rokeby-Taylor looked most put out. 'What on earth do you mean, Tremaine?'

'Young Fitzwilliam. He's worked out what I'm up to, with very few hints at all.'

'How do you know?'

'Look at him. He was quiet, thinking, and now he's all a-flutter. He's no idiot, Rokeby-Taylor, not like you.'

'Steady on, Tremaine. No need to be offensive.'

'No need, but it's a pleasure anyway.' Dr Tremaine shook his head. 'For all the money I've given you, Rokeby-Taylor, I haven't asked you for much. But you've messed up just about everything I've tasked you with.'

'A run of bad luck, Tremaine, that was all.'

'I could have used the Rashid Stone to help with these spells but you managed to mess up procuring that in a way that I thought impossible. Even if your minions failed to steal it, I was going to have access to it on board the Imperator, but now it's disappeared.'

Aubrey should have known that Dr Tremaine would have had some interest in the Rashid Stone. He was glad he'd managed to put a stick in those spokes.

'That's hardly my fault,' Rokeby-Taylor said. He didn't whine. Not quite.

'And then there was the Electra. You managed to get yourself aboard, but because you insisted on using your cheap magicians you nearly killed Sir Darius instead of wrecking the boat in the deep water test it was due to undertake on the very next day.'He glanced at Aubrey. 'I suppose I should thank you for preventing that. Now isn't the time for your father to be removed. That will come later.'

Any trace of fear disappeared from Aubrey. It was replaced with cold, hard anger. Tremaine's casual assumption that he could play with the lives of those Aubrey loved was a reminder of what the man was – a menace that must be defeated.

Rokeby-Taylor made an attempt at dignity that fell short by a league or two. 'Listen here, Tremaine, I was nearly killed myself in that escapade. I risked my life for you.'

'And what about the tunneller?' Dr Tremaine went on remorselessly. He glanced sideways as a trail of sparks fizzed along a chain and disappeared into the latticework. 'You had a few easy connectors to dig and you managed to flood the old hydraulic tunnel. Then you made your own railway line collapse. I couldn't believe it.'

'Could have happened to anyone. Who knew that tunnel was still down there?'

'I did. You should have.' Dr Tremaine looked at Aubrey for a moment, then he uttered a short, spiky spell.

Copper insects scuttled over Aubrey's face. His skin crawled, but in seconds his jaw and mouth were free.

He worked it from side to side, testing it warily.

'What do you want?' he asked Tremaine.

'I want to know what conclusion you've reached.'

'Why?'

'I'd like to be surprised. I so rarely am.'

'You're going to turn the city into a monster.'