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With
great presence of mind, Kim stepped to one side and, as the runner passed her,
thrust her sunshade between his feet. He fell headlong, and the force of his
movement snapped the shaft of the sunshade in two. Before he could scramble to
his feet once more, Kim sat down hard on his upper back, driving the breath out
of his body. For the next moment or two, all the bully-boy could do was gasp
for air, and by the time he at last managed to refill his lungs, Hunch had come
up with them.

           
"You
can get up now," Hunch told her. "I'll 'andle 'im if 'e tries
anything."

           
Kim
bounced once, just to make sure the fellow wasn't up to anything, and stood up.

           
"Get
him into the carriage," Mairelon's voice said. Kim looked over her
shoulder to find him standing behind her, half-supporting Prince Durmontov. The
prince looked rather dazed, but seemed largely unharmed; Mairelon's coat sleeve
was torn, his cravat had come half-undone, and he was liberally streaked with
mud, but he, too, did not appear to be injured. "The other man got away,
and I think there was a driver in that cart; there's no sense hanging around
here until their reinforcements arrive."

           
The
flames and the whining noise had stopped some time during Kim's encounter with
the man she had captured. Glancing around, she was unsurprised to find the
street deserted. Nobody wanted trouble with wizards.

           
Hunch
nodded at Mairelon and hauled their prisoner to his feet. The man's muffler had
come undone, and Kim blinked at him in surprise. "Jack Stower!"

           
"Well,
well," Mairelon said. "This
is
going to be interesting.
Into the carriage, Kim, Hunch."

           
Hunch
pushed Jack forward without comment, but when they reached the coach, he
frowned. "You ain't a-going to take this 'ere cove in there with you, are
you?" he said.

           
"How
else are we going to ask him anything?" Mairelon said. "He won't make
any more trouble--not with three wizards keeping an eye on him."

           
Glowering, but unable to object publicly to this outrageous
statement without giving Mairelon's incapacity away, Hunch did as he was told.
A little nervously, Kim took the seat in the far corner from Jack; Mairelon
helped the prince in opposite her, and slid in beside her himself. As the coach
started off, he said, "Now, Mr. Stower, kindly
explain
your part in this little contretemps."

           
"I
ain't sayin'
nothing
," Jack said sullenly.

           
"Very
well," said Mairelon affably. "We'll just let Shoreham get it out of
you. We're on our way to the Ministry now; I just thought it would save a
little time if you talked to us first."

           
Prince
Durmontov raised his head. "Ministry?" he said hazily. "What
Ministry?"

           
"The
Ministry of Wizardry," Mairelon said. "It's not far, and we'll take
you back to the George after.
Or wherever you prefer.
You look rather done up."

           
"That
spell is draining." The prince smiled a little wanly. "It is an old
one, used in
Russia
to keep wolves off a sleigh. One use is all that is generally needed, so
recovery does not need to be quick. If those men had soon returned, I would
have been in . . . difficulty. I am in your debt."

           
"Spells,"
Jack said bitterly. "He said you didn't have
no
spells.
Chicken-hearted gooseberry."

           
Kim felt
Mairelon go tense beside her. "Mannering told you that?"

           
"How'd
you know it was him?"

           
"Never
you mind
. What else did he tell you?"

           
Jack was
disinclined to answer, but by the time they reached the Ministry, Mairelon had
pried most of what he knew out of him. It was not much. Mannering had ordered
Prince Durmontov brought to the cellar of a pub in
Smithfield
and left there; he had assured his men that Durmontov would not be capable of
using spells against them; they were to pick up their payment from the clerk in
Mannering's office the following day. Jack had no idea where Mannering was
hiding, only that something had sent him scurrying for cover.

           
With that
unsatisfactory information, they were forced to be content. They turned Jack
over to Lord Shoreham, who accepted with equanimity Mairelon's muddy arrival
and even muddier prisoner. Returning to the carriage, they found Prince
Durmontov looking much more himself.

           
"Where now?"
Mairelon said.
"Back
to the George?"

           
"No,
if I may impose a little upon you," Prince Durmontov said. "I am
concerned for family friends who may be also of interest to the man behind
those--those--"

           
"Footpads,"
Kim offered.

           
"Yes,"
the prince said. "So I would like to go at once to Hampstead, to warn my
friends."

21

           
Kim and
Mairelon stared at the prince for a long moment.
"Hampstead?"
Mairelon said at last.

           
"Yes,
to Duc and Duchesse Delagardie," Prince Durmontov replied. "They are
only just returned from
Edinburgh
,
and--"

           
"By
all means," Mairelon replied. "And we have a great deal to discuss on
the way.
How fortunate that it is such a long drive."

           
The
prince blinked, but gave Hunch the direction. Hunch scowled disapprovingly at
Mairelon, but climbed back onto the box without comment, and in a few moments
they were under way once more.

           
"How
is it that you know the duc and duchesse?" Mairelon asked.

           
"One
of my aunts knew them many years ago in
France
,"
Durmontov replied. "It is, in fact, partially on their account that I came
to
England
."

           
"That
would be the former Mademoiselle Jeannette Lepain?
One of the
seven French wizards once known as
Les Griffonais
?"

           
"Yes,"
said the prince, frowning. "How is it you know this?"

           
"I
have had occasion to find out," Mairelon said. "Perhaps it will
enlighten you somewhat if I tell you that some years ago, my father purchased a
copy of
Le Livre de Sept Sorciers:
un
livre de
memoire
by one Madame Marie de Cambriol, and that someone has twice tried
to make off with it in the past month."

           
"Three
times," Kim corrected.

           
"I
don't think you can count Lord Starnes's little excursion last night,"
Mairelon said. "His heart really didn't seem to be in it."

           
"What
is this?" the prince said, his frown deepening.

           
"Wait
until we reach the duc and duchesse," Mairelon said. "There's no
sense in going over everything twice. Besides, you were about to tell us what
your aunt's former associates have to do with your being in
England
."

           
Prince
Durmontov studied Mairelon for a long moment,
then
capitulated.
"Very well.
A little time ago, my
aunt received a message of a . . . magical nature. It involved an obscure threat
to the Duchesse Delagardie and advised my aunt to bring her
livre de memoire
to
England
.
Though this message was not entirely clear, it disturbed her greatly. She is,
however, deeply involved in an extended study of magic on the Indian
subcontinent, and did not wish to break it off at a critical point to make so
long a journey, most particularly because she could not be positive that it was
necessary."

           
"Ah.
So she sent you instead."

           
The
prince inclined his head.
"As you see."

           
"And
since your arrival . . .?"

           
"I
have been very much confused," Prince Durmontov admitted. "First
there seemed to be no threat--the Duchesse Delagardie was not even in
London
.
Then, at Lady Greythorne's musicale, came that scrying spell which sent you
hurrying off, and when I returned to my lodgings, someone had gone through my
protections and stolen my aunt's book. I felt then that it was urgent to speak
with the Duchesse Delagardie, but she had not yet returned. So I went to look
for her."

           
"And
found her, I take it," Mairelon murmured.

           
"She
had been visiting a friend in
Edinburgh
named Lady MacKay, and had broken her return journey in
York
.
She, too, was much puzzled when I told her of my aunt's message, and very
troubled that someone had succeeded in removing my protections and stealing her
livre de memoire.
The spells I had used were, you understand, some of
those that the Duchesse Delagardie and my aunt and their friends had invented
for their own use, and it would take more than a common wizard to avoid
them."

           
"There
is at least one extremely uncommon wizard in this somewhere," Mairelon
said grimly. "Go on."

           
"I
have little more to tell," the prince said. "We returned last night
from
Edinburgh
. When I returned to
the George this morning to arrange these last few matters, I found a note
waiting for me, bidding me to a certain public house to learn more of the
matter which brought me to
England
."
He shrugged. "There was also your message. Had I answered it first--But
one cannot live in might-have-been."

           
"No."
Mairelon's voice had an undercurrent of irony, and Kim knew he was thinking of
his ill-fated attempt to trace the scrying spell at Lady Greythorne's musicale.

           
There was
a brief lull in the conversation; then the prince looked at Mairelon and said,
"How is it that you performed such a timely arrival?"

           
"We
hurried," Mairelon said.

           
Kim
choked back a snort of laughter.

           
"And
how did you know that it was necessary to hurry?" the prince asked
politely, looking from one to the other.

           
"We
had it from an inept gentleman-burglar late last night," Mairelon said.
"He mentioned, somewhat in passing, that you were likely to be set upon.
When we reached the George to leave you a warning, and discovered that you had
already been and gone . . . well, hurrying seemed like a good idea."

           
"But
why should anyone attack me?" the prince said, frowning.

           
"If
we knew that, we'd be considerably further along than we are," Mairelon
replied.

           
"Maybe
Mannering wanted to find out where this Duchesse Delagardie is," Kim
suggested.

           
"Mannering?"
said the prince. "Who is--" He broke off as the familiar tingle of
magic swept over them. "Ah!" he said, and raised his hands in an
arcane gesture.

           
Kim
lunged across the coach and grabbed his wrists, forcing his arms down before
the gesture could be completed and ruining whatever concentration the spell
required. "No!" she said forcefully.

           
The
prince and Mairelon both stared at her as the tingling receded, the prince with
restrained anger, Mairelon with a mixture of alarm and speculation.
"Another scrying spell?" Mairelon said tentatively after a moment.

           
"I
don't know," Kim said, sitting back.
"Something,
anyway.
And it's gone now, like the other ones."

           
"There
is some reason why you did not wish this spell traced?" Prince Durmontov
said coldly.

           
Kim looked
at Mairelon, who sighed. "We would very much like that spell traced,"
Mairelon told him. "Unfortunately, tracing it seems to have . . .
unpleasant consequences."

           
"Indeed?"
Durmontov looked skeptical but interested. "Yes, I recall that at Lady
Greythorne's musicale you took a backlash from the spell. But--"

           
"It
was more than a backlash," Mairelon said harshly. "It was a trap.
A particularly nasty one."

           
The
prince raised an eyebrow inquiringly, but Mairelon did not continue. After a
considerable pause, Kim said, "He needs to know. If we hadn't been here,
and he'd done that trace. . . ."

           
"Yes,
yes, all right," Mairelon said testily. He looked at Durmontov. "When
my tracing spell connected to the scrying spell at Lady Greythorne's, it got
sucked straight into it.
Along with everything else."

           
Durmontov
blinked. "Everything else . . .?"

           
"I
haven't been able to sense a spell in process, much less work one of my own,
for nearly two weeks," Mairelon said, clipping the words off sharply. His
face was stony, defying comment or sympathy.

           
Prince
Durmontov's eyes widened and he sat back heavily against the squabs. "I .
. . see." He turned to Kim.

           
"I
would appear to be doubly in your debt." He hesitated, looking at
Mairelon. "I can see that you do not wish this to be talked of.
Nor would I, in your place.
But when we reach the duchesse,
she must be warned."

           
"Of
course," Mairelon said without enthusiasm.

           
The
conversation died. Kim thought of half a dozen questions she would have liked
to ask, but in the face of Mairelon's heavy silence and the prince's
contemplative one, she didn't quite dare. She found herself torn between
sympathy for Mairelon and annoyance at his behavior. She
knew,
none better, how difficult it was to reveal a weakness or a vulnerability, even
to a friend--but she also knew that if Mairelon hadn't blown the gab, he would
have blamed himself for whatever grief the prince came to later on. He knew it
himself, but he was sulking like a sweet-stealer with a pain in his tooth.

           
They
reached Hampstead at last, and descended from the coach in front of a small
white stone house set well back from the street. A flagstone walk led to the
doorway, past short clumps of new-green plants and some kind of thorn-covered
vine that was just leafing out. Inside, a housemaid showed them to a small
drawing room that looked as if it had been hastily and rather incompletely
tidied, and left to fetch her mistress. On closer examination, the air of
disorder proved deceptive. The books and papers on the corner tables were arranged
neatly between bookends, the silver candleholders gleamed, and the chairs and
woodwork shone with beeswax. It was the number and variety of books and
furniture that gave the impression of confusion.

           
A few
minutes later, a short, plump, bespectacled woman entered the room. She wore
her ginger hair unfashionably long and loose beneath her proper lace cap, and
her blue velvet gown, while clearly expensive and in the best of taste, was not
in the latest mode. "Good morning, Alexei," she said. "You have
brought friends to meet me? But you have had some accident!"

           
"No
accident," said Prince Durmontov. "I was set upon but, thanks to
these two, I am not harmed. Allow me to present Miss Kim Merrill and her
guardian, Mr. Richard Merrill. This is the Duchesse Camille Delagardie."

           
"You
have no notion how happy I am to make your acquaintance at last," Mairelon
said with feeling.

           
The
duchesse's eyes twinkled behind her spectacles. "No? Then you must at once
seat yourselves and explain, and I shall have Liza bring in tea. For it is
obvious that there is some long explanation to come, and I find that long
explanations always go well with tea. It is
an English
custom of which I thoroughly approve."

           
They
followed this program at once. The account took some time, for, somewhat to
Kim's surprise, Mairelon did not play off any of his tricks for avoiding
explanation on the duchesse. Instead, he gave her a more detailed version of
the story he had told Lord Shoreham, compressed but complete in all the
essentials. The duchesse lost her twinkle almost immediately, and listened in
thoughtful silence. Her expression grew grave when Mairelon described the trap
that had caught him during Lady Greythorne's musicale, but it was not until he
reached the previous evening and Lord Gideon Starnes's tale of the treasure
vault in
France
that the duchesse was betrayed into exclamation.

           
"But
that is absurd!" she said. "Or rather--No, go on. I will know the
whole of it, before I take my turn."

           
"There's
not much more to tell," Mairelon said. "Starnes mentioned that his
compatriot had said something about setting footpads on Prince Durmontov, and
we thought it best to warn him. When we got to the George, he'd already been
and gone, so we went after him."

           
"And
arrived in a most timely fashion," the prince put in. "I thought it
wise to tell you at once, since it seems connected with that peculiar message
my Aunt Jeannette received. And then during the ride here came another of these
scrying spells, and only Miss Merrill's prompt action kept me from falling into
the same trap as Mr. Merrill."

           
"Very
good," the duchesse said, nodding approval at Kim. "I, too, am in
your debt. I would not like anything unfortunate to happen to Jeannette's
nephew, though he is in general quite capable of taking care of himself."

           
"And
that," said Mairelon, "is all. If you can shed any light on the
matter . . ."

           
"I
do not know that I can," the duchesse said slowly. "You see--no, I
shall begin at the beginning." She eyed Mairelon apologetically. "It
is no great matter, you understand, only that it is a little uncomfortable to
admit the follies of one's youth."

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