The Masked City (5 page)

Irene would have liked to give him some sort of reassurance, but she didn’t have any easy answers. She didn’t even have any complicated ones. She could only return the clasp of his hands. ‘We’ll find a solution,’ she said firmly. ‘There has to be a way. Even if I have to steal examples of poetry from a hundred worlds, to convince them that you’re on a valid postgraduate study course. There
will
be a way.’

She wasn’t going to lose him.

There was a cracking noise from the next room, like pebbles on glass. At the same moment Irene felt a strike against the wards that she’d placed on their lodgings, a thunderclap in her metaphysical hearing. It wasn’t significant enough to bring the wards down, but it was a firm, carefully placed blow, not an ignorant blaze of power. And it was definitely tainted with chaos. Someone was knocking, and they wanted in.

The noise had come from Kai’s bedroom. A dozen unpleasant possibilities ran through Irene’s mind, most of them connected with last night’s attack.

‘What?’ Kai released her, ran to the door and slammed it open. ‘Who dares?’

His room was surprisingly tidy - a bulging wardrobe, a bare floor, a small table and an equally small shrine with a twist of incense. The large bow window on the other side of the room was intact, but a dramatic figure stood on the other side of it, his cane raised to beat against the glass. His cloak and jacket fluttered in a wind that certainly hadn’t been blowing earlier, and his silver hair cascaded down over his shoulders. A lambent glitter sparkled in his eyes.

‘Kai,’ Irene said, with great patience, ‘why is Lord Silver standing on your windowsill?’

CHAPTER THREE

‘Let me in!’ Silver smashed his cane against the glass. It rebounded with the same cracking noise they had heard earlier, leaving the glass untouched. Fortunately, Irene and Kai’s wish to collect a critical mass of books meant this apartment could support a Library-style ward. And such things were anathema to the Fae. Though it was taking her a regular effort to maintain it, at moments like this it was totally worth it.

‘Certainly not!’ Irene pushed in front of Kai. ‘Lord Silver, how dare you behave like this?’

Silver clung to the arch of the window with one hand, and pointed the head of his cane at Irene. He was wearing perfect morning dress, suit and cloak - and his top hat was cocked rakishly, somehow staying on his head despite his position and the morning breeze. ‘Are you going to tell me you know nothing about it?’

Irene reviewed her conscience. It was comparatively clean. At least it didn’t bring up any particular crimes with respect to Silver. ‘Nothing about what?’ she demanded. ‘And why on earth are you standing on the windowsill and yelling through the glass?’

‘Because you won’t open the window, of course,’ Silver said, in tones that suggested it was too obvious to be worth mentioning. ‘I came here for a perfectly simple private consultation, and found your lodgings barred to me. Is it my fault that I chose to approach discreetly, rather than by the front door?’

Irene supposed the back first-floor window was more discreet than the front door. But not by much. ‘And what do you want to discuss with us?’

‘Ah. I take it that you’re not going to invite me in?’

‘No,’ Irene said, prodding Kai, before he could say something more emphatic but equally negative. The clock was still ticking. She didn’t have time for all these Fae dramatics. But if Silver could answer some questions about last night’s events, then it would be stupid not to ask him here and now. ‘How about neutral territory, Lord Silver? There’s a coffee shop down the road. We’ll meet you there in five minutes.’

Silver shrugged casually. ‘I dare say it will do. The name of this place, little mouse?’

‘Coram’s,’ Irene said, ignoring Silver’s little jab. She’d passed the point where he could irritate her with his taunts. If he thought that was going to put her off-balance, he was wasting his time. ‘Close to the foundling hospital. We’ll join you there.’

Silver gestured acquiescence, then leapt from the windowsill, landing elegantly on the pavement a storey below. A waiting footman stepped forward to take his cane.

‘Just to check,’ Irene said. ‘You haven’t been doing anything I should know about, Kai?’ She didn’t
think
he had, but it was probably a good idea to check first, before they got to any blame-slinging.

‘Unfortunately not.’ Kai found his coat, flinging it over his shoulders. ‘Do you think it has something to do with last night?’

‘It seems likely, given his timing,’ Irene said. ‘Let’s go and find out.’

There were always problems in dealing with the Fae. Despite their human appearance, they were soul-destroying entities from beyond space and time, who introduced chaos into alternate worlds. One method they used was to subvert people’s usual lives and narratives, drawing them into endless patterns of stories. This weakened reality and the natural order of things, until the native population didn’t know what was truth and what was fiction. At that point, the world would drown in a sea of chaos. And, more practically, they constantly tried to play hero or villain of their personal narrative, insisted that you had to be a character in that story, and refused to deal with you in any other way.

The coffee shop was a den of snobs, and wasn’t one of Irene’s favourites. Which made it perfect for a possible confrontation that might result in her being permanently banned and never darkening its doorway again.

A cab with the Liechtenstein crest had drawn up outside, the engine turning over and giving off little random flares of ether. The driver sat at his post, still perfectly poised despite the heat and the smog, but Irene saw his eyes follow her and Kai as they approached the cafe.

‘It could be worse,’ Irene said. ‘Silver might have arrived by private airship.’

Kai nodded. ‘Vale told me they’ve got a new model out. It’s even smaller than the one-man models the museums use.’

‘ “They” as in Liechtenstein?’

Kai nodded. ‘He said everyone was bidding for them, and that levels of spying on this new technology had gone through the roof.’

‘Much like the airships?’ Irene sighed when that didn’t get a laugh. ‘Now remember,’ she murmured. ‘Polite. Noncommittal. Don’t give him any excuses for dramatics.’

‘Of course,’ Kai said. He drew himself up to his full height, stepped behind Irene’s shoulder and let her lead the way in.

All the ladies of leisure had congregated in one corner and were holding their coffee cups under their noses, whispering amongst themselves in a semi-panicked, semi-fascinated hissing. Their attention was undeniably on Silver, lounging at a vacant table on the other side of the room. Not surprising, given Silver’s reputation as one of London’s biggest libertines. A thin, pale-faced servant in grey stood behind him, holding Silver’s cane.

Silver himself was looking casually rakish, with his cravat knotted at his throat, his silver hair loose and his tanned skin golden against his white cuffs and collar. ‘Ah,’ he said on noticing Irene’s entrance. ‘Please join me.’ Another burst of whispering from the women on the other side of the cafe followed his words.

They seated themselves as Kai and Silver exchanged guarded glares.

‘Coffee?’ Silver suggested. ‘I would recommend a demitasse of the Bourbon blend.’

Kai looked ready to refuse on the spot, on principle, until he glanced at the menu. ‘Of course,’ he said with a thin smile.

Irene looked at the menu card surreptitiously. It was the most expensive brand of coffee listed.

‘My treat, of course,’ Silver began.

‘Please, Lord Silver,’ Irene said, before Kai could be undiplomatic. ‘We wouldn’t wish to put ourselves under an obligation towards you.’ Such things carried weight with the Fae.

Silver shrugged. ‘Can’t blame me for trying,’ he said, ‘although I give you my word there will be no obligation incurred for your coffee. Still, I believe this meeting will serve.’

‘Serve?’ Kai said. ‘You haven’t even said what this is about yet.’

‘Nor can I.’ Silver leaned forward, and his attitude of casual melodrama seemed to shift and fall away from him, leaving him quite serious. ‘If anyone asks, you can tell them it was about something to do with Vale. I have no objection to you linking his name with mine. But I’m here to discuss your future well-being.’

‘Threats?’ Kai sneered.

‘Oh, do leave that be,’ Silver sighed. ‘I had to get your attention somehow. It wasn’t as if I was actually trying to break into your house.’

Irene frowned. ‘Lord Silver, if this isn’t a threat, then what is it? Are you here to warn us about something?’

Silver glanced over his shoulder. ‘Johnson, fetch the coffee.’ He turned back to Irene. ‘No, no, of course not, we are just having a pleasant little conversation. Because if I were here to warn you about something, I would be breaking an oath that I have sworn,
not
to warn you about something. I trust we are all perfectly clear on this point?’

Irene and Kai exchanged glances. ‘Of course,’ Irene said smoothly. ‘We’re just drinking coffee together.’ She had been told the Fae were obliged to keep their oaths, but she’d never been in a position where it was really tested. If Silver was actually being truthful here, then they had even more to worry about than they’d thought.

‘Precisely.’ Silver looked relieved. ‘And please don’t think that this little coffee-drinking session is due to any actual affection for you, little mouse. You crashed my ball a few months back, you snatched a book out of my fingers, and you quite failed to mention that you were a representative of your Library. Any good guide to etiquette would mark you down on all three points.’

Irene raised her eyebrows. ‘As I remember it, you invited me to the ball, and the book was disputed property in any case.’

‘Finders keepers, I believe the legal term is,’ Kai put in smugly.

Silver glanced at him sidelong, the light catching his lavender eyes and making them glitter. ‘A person like you should be more careful,’ he said. ‘This sphere is hardly the most hospitable to your kind.’

Irene held up a hand before Kai could answer. ‘I thought we weren’t indulging in threats,’ she said coldly.

Silver studied her, as his servant placed cups of coffee on the table. ‘It is extremely difficult to suggest that you might possibly be in extreme peril without going to the extent of “warning” you,’ he finally said. ‘I’m simply having a cup of coffee with you, and suggesting that you might both want to be very careful. Why not take a little vacation to that Library of yours?’

Retreat to the Library was a sensible response to overt danger. Of course, this all hinged on Silver actually being reliable, which was far from certain.

‘Lord Silver,’ Irene said, picking up her cup. ‘You are the Ambassador from Liechtenstein, and to the best of my understanding that makes you one of the most powerful of your kind in London. Possibly even in England.’ Not entirely true. She’d heard stories of other creatures in the wilds of the British Isles - Wild Hunts, Faerie Courts and all that sort of thing - but it seemed a good moment to pour on the flattery. ‘But in the past we’ve been on opposite sides. Have we suddenly become allies, and I failed to notice it?’

‘Being my ally might have its advantages.’ Silver bared his teeth in a flashing smile. They were perfectly white, with just a suggestion of sharpness about them. Irene found herself wondering how they would feel against her wrist, the back of her hand, the side of her neck … He would be gentle, of course; she could tell from his eyes and his smile that he would be gentle, but at the same time he would be masterful, with the easy grace of control and skill and …

And he was trying to throw a glamour over her. Glamour was one of the Fae’s most convenient tools, a mixture of illusion and desire that somehow crept past all conscious defences, like the very best sort of insanity. She felt a burning across her shoulders as the Library brand on her skin flared in response, and drew herself up straight in her seat with a little sniff. She hoped she hadn’t been staring like a gawping idiot.

‘Such pretty skin you have, little mouse,’ Silver said, his smile broadening.

Irene gave him her coldest glare, summoning memories of particularly frosty and upright teachers from school. ‘I repeat my question. If this is true, why should you want to help us?’