Moment of Truth (33 page)

George was looking rather pleased with himself, and he seemed a few inches taller as well. Aubrey had the notion that his friend was probably bulletproof, at least for a while. Sophie was made of energy, taking notes as George described the controls of one of the golem machines.

‘I haven't seen any golems around here, old man,' George said when Aubrey and Caroline appeared from behind the machine block.

‘They could have been shopped out,' Sophie said. ‘Shipped out. They may be building more.'

Noises from the entrance end of the factory could only mean one thing. Aubrey gazed at the machines with longing. He would love to have a few days, a few
weeks
to plumb their intricacies, but...

‘We have to go.'

‘We cannot,' Sophie said, distressed. ‘Not without Théo.'

Caroline took her arm. ‘We won't leave without finding him.'

‘But where?' George asked. ‘We've been looking, and so have you...'

Caroline caught Aubrey's eye. ‘We need to share our findings.'

‘Excellent idea,' Aubrey said. ‘Superb. I'll just ask these Holmland gentlemen who are approaching for a place we can use for a plenary session.'

Caroline smiled. ‘We found somewhere, Aubrey. This way.'

Which is how Aubrey found himself with his friends, safe and secure in the belly of a giant concrete elephant.

Exiting the factory was a matter of careful slinking. This was assisted by the arguing going on in the ranks of first Holmlanders to re-enter. Accusations accompanied finger-pointing among Holmland officers and Aubrey was relieved to hear that the argument centred about the way the fire alarms were unreliable and subject to misuse.

Caroline and Sophie flitted from pillar to press to stamping machine, neatly avoiding the soldiers and white coats who were generally relaxed, giving every sign of having enjoyed the break. Aubrey and George followed as best as they could.

The giant concrete animals were in the garden behind the original building. Aubrey imagined that in the past they'd been brightly painted and impressive, but neglect had left them weather-beaten and sad, despite their monumental size. Once upon a time, these beasts were marvelled at, gazed at in awe, but they had come upon hard times. Paint flaked from a lion the size of a small bungalow. The giraffe could peer into the third story of the buildings around it, but the only colour it had left was a patch of yellow on its rump. The zebra, the crocodile, the elephant and the rest of the stony menagerie stood in their grey loneliness, doing their best to be dignified.

They were huge, and the – artist, sculptor, construction engineer? – had gone to some pains to make them as jolly as possible. All of the animals had seen better days, but Aubrey could see how they once would have charmed children. The elephant was enormous, twice the size of a real beast, but the small skull-cap (once crimson) gave it a jaunty rather than a formidable air. The other animals had similar embellishments, which removed any hint of danger and replaced it with jollity.

Some effort had been given to the maintenance of the gardens. The lawn was well kept, the flower beds sported mature rose bushes, and waist-high box hedges divided the area into distinct regions, with benches so weary strollers could rest and admire the preposterous concrete animals.

They used the hedges for cover until they reached the tree trunk legs of the elephant. ‘This way,' Caroline said.

Without hesitating, she jumped straight up and seized an iron rung that was set in the leg, a few feet over their heads. Aubrey gaped as she climbed ten feet before clinging by one arm and using a slim tool to open the locked trapdoor in the belly of the elephant.

Sophie looked at George. ‘Please?'

He smiled, then took her by the waist and lifted her to the first rung.

Soon, they were gathered inside the concrete elephant, trap door shut, the only light coming through the glass panels that were its eyes.

‘Has anyone anything to eat?' George asked.

The interior of the elephant was capacious, as large as a room. Aubrey could stand upright, and even George had headroom. It wasn't, however, cosy. The concrete was bare, uncomfortable to sit on and smelled of mildew – but it did provide them with a good view down the length of the garden and out over the parade ground toward the barracks.

‘Sophie found it,' Caroline explained. ‘We were crossing the gardens and a squad came from the old building, which was our destination. With soldiers coming from both wings we were trapped, until Sophie looked up.'

‘Before leaving Lutetia,' Sophie said, ‘I did some research in the archives of
The Sentinel.
When it was made, the baron's father held a banquet inside this elephant.'

George looked around their confines. ‘A rather small banquet, wouldn't you say?'

‘Six friends, but the old baron brought a proper table and candles. It was most grand.'

‘When it was safe, we crept out and went looking for Théo,' Caroline said.

Sophie explained their searching, and confirmed that the blocky building on the south side was indeed the generator. They had been working their way toward the barracks when they'd been diverted into the factory.

‘Where we found you,' Caroline said.

‘Thank goodness,' Aubrey said. ‘But if we're going to find Théo, let's see if we can be a bit more sensible in our searching this time.'

‘Your meaning?' Caroline said.

‘Let's wait until night.'

After they'd shared the details of their time in the factory complex – Caroline was outraged at the treatment of the wounded soldiers – George didn't complain about hunger, not more than a dozen times or so before deciding to nap, for which Aubrey was grateful. Sophie took up a position looking out of the elephant eyes, lying on her stomach with her chin on her hands. Caroline stretched out, languorously, and went to sleep.

Aubrey sat on the trapdoor – reasoning it might make it harder for anyone to surprise them – and thought about leadership.

Hiding in the middle of hostile forces, separated from the Albion command structure, with no-one to consult for order, it gave him a new appreciation of the role. Ultimately, despite what Caroline said, he was responsible for the lives of his friends. In the end, after reporting, he would be held accountable. Were all the other commanders, in a multitude of situations and in all branches of the service, aware of this burden? If one thought too much about it, he imagined it could become paralysing, and the commander who didn't do anything was a nightmare in any battle situation.

Of course, he could hardly consider himself the regular sort of commander. Not in this clandestine mode of operating, and not with the team he was lucky enough to be in charge of. The idea of unquestioning obedience from Caroline and George was laughable. While they might charge side by side with him into the Valley of Death, if he asked them to, most likely Caroline would need some clarifying of what he was after with said charge, and would suggest an alternative, probably involving some obscure but deadly skill or other he was unaware she possessed. George would be happy enough, but would most likely drop in an observation that would make Aubrey reconsider the whole escapade – and while Aubrey was doing that, George would clean up the Valley of Death problem by himself, just to be helpful.

He shrugged. Different sorts of leadership for different sorts of people being led. He was happy with that.

‘Aubrey. How did you find us?'

Aubrey blinked. Caroline had lifted herself on one elbow and was wide awake. ‘I used this.'

Aubrey took Sophie's ring from his pocket.

‘My ring!' Sophie cried. ‘George, you do not have it!'

George came awake quickly. He took in Sophie's disappointed face, then looked at Aubrey, who was dangling the ring by its shoelace and immediately saw what was going on. ‘It was an emergency, Sophie. Let me explain.'

After the explanation was offered and accepted, Sophie helped George retie the shoelace around his neck, tuttutting at George's fumbling efforts.

‘So,' Caroline said once the ring was in its rightful place again, ‘if you had something of Théo's, you could lead us to him?'

‘I don't see why not,' Aubrey said. ‘Sophie, do you have anything of your brother's? It would be best if it was something that had been in close proximity to him for some time.'

Her face fell. ‘I am sorry. Nothing. If I had known...'

‘Never mind,' Aubrey said, thinking hard. He was conscious that Caroline was watching him, and he was glad he had nothing complicated to do, like walking. ‘The Law of Similarity.'

Sophie blinked. ‘Similarity? I am not familiar with this.'

‘On a fundamental level, Sophie, you and your brother are alike.'

‘We are very different people, I must tell you that.'

‘I'm not talking about personality. On a biological level, I mean.'

‘Apart from his being a male,' George pointed out.

‘Yes, there is that.' Occasionally, he regretted his need to explain things to people. Sometimes he thought it would be better if he simply said, ‘It's magic', and left it at that. ‘But all things considered, Sophie and Théo are more alike than non-siblings are alike. So I can use the Law of Similarity to formulate a spell that will guide us where Théo is.'

‘Like that brick in Lutetia?' George said. ‘You used that to find out where the Heart of Gold was.'

Sophie's eyes went wide. ‘The Heart of Gold? George, you haven't told me of this.'

George shifted uncomfortably. ‘Well, there are a few things I haven't told you about. Quite a few.'

Sophie looked askance for a moment, then patted him on the knee and smiled. ‘You will have to tell me later.'

Aubrey cleared his throat. ‘Well, yes. But that was using the Law of Constituent Parts, which is more relevant to inanimate objects than...' He saw two of them frowning at him, while one was intensely interested. ‘And I can see that this isn't important right now. What say I cast this spell and we can get on with things?'

George shrugged. ‘If you say so. I'm just getting jolly interested in all this magic stuff, with you and Sophie being so clever and all. Right, Caroline?'

‘I leave magic to Aubrey,' she said firmly.

Aubrey flashed a grateful look at her. She returned a wry half-smile that made something bump oddly inside him. Pancreas, he guessed wildly. Or those whatchmacallits. Thymus.

‘Ready, Aubrey?' Caroline prompted.

‘Me? Of course. Ready as rain.'

‘What?'

‘It's one of George's. Now, Sophie, move over here. Can you sit cross-legged? Good.'

He reviewed the Law of Similarity. It described a wide range of phenomena, and it had been one of the first laws to be described in rational, empirical terms. As such, its applications were well-established and had been eagerly shared through reputable magical journals. Of course, many banged-together, jury-rigged applications of the Law of Similarity were formulated every day by practising magicians for ordinary purposes and forgotten just as quickly – as Aubrey was about to demonstrate.

He touched his hand to Sophie's forehead. She closed her eyes, and he pushed aside a strand of her golden hair.

He was about to make Sophie into the human equivalent of a lodestone. The similarity between her brother and her (
another connection,
he thought) would be enhanced and she would be able to orient herself on his presence – and she'd be able to take them to him.