Strangeness and Charm: The Courts of the Feyre (26 page)

  He turned away and then casually walked back towards the stall he'd visited as if he'd just thought of another reason why the guy should take the jar from him, but when he reached it he kept going, accelerating along the aisle. I jolted myself into motion, hurrying after him, trying to keep track of the long brown coat in the crowd. If I lost sight of him he could change appearance and I would never find him. I had to keep him in view.

  He swerved around a lady with a shopping trolley and diverted sideways down a passage between the stalls. I took a risk and dipped into the next row and managed to catch a glimpse of him as he crossed between stalls and carried on towards the edge of the market. I sprinted down a parallel aisle, half expecting to find no sign of him as I emerged, but he was there, running down the edge of the stalls, scanning behind for any sign of me.

  I carried on, exiting onto the lane that ran alongside the edge of the market and then swerved back in to intercept him. As I did I caught sight of a brown coat as it billowed out and half-caught on a pillar as the owner ran out into the lane I'd just left.

  The next gap was yards ahead and I sprinted, closing the gap while he couldn't see me, striving to keep my momentum as I veered out through the exit on the lane after him. As I did he was at the end of the lane, looking back. As he saw me he bolted down a side road towards the railway arches and I followed.

  "Wait," I shouted after him, "I only want to talk."

  I couldn't tell if he'd heard me. I ran after him anyway, coming out onto the side road and finding an empty street. It was too long for him to have reached the far end so quickly, so I slowed my pace, scanning alley's and arches for signs of life. If he was hiding he could have switched his appearance as soon as he was out of sight – he could look like anyone by now.

  The entrances to the arches were dimly lit and boarded up, with most barred and bolted with substantial padlocks which, while they wouldn't be much of a barrier to someone with fey ability, would be difficult to lock again from inside, so I looked for a loose lock or an unbarred doorway. The alleys were more of a problem as they had side doors and big commercial bins – the rear access to commercial properties on the main street on the other side of this row.

  It was at the opening to such an alley that I found the brown coat, stuffed between a drainpipe and a wall beside a large black bin. The alley was shaded by tall brick buildings on either side – the only obvious access into the buildings was a door that looked like no one had opened it in the last decade. Around the door, the mortar between the bricks was crumbing leaving the ground sandy underfoot.

  Down the alley I could see vague shapes huddled in the corner. I drew my sword, conscious that as I moved into the alley my eyes would take a moment to adjust. A sword would make anyone intending to jump me hesitate.

  "Andy? The sword is only for protection," I called into the dimness. "This doesn't need to be a fight. I just want to talk to you."

  I moved carefully into the shade between the buildings. The alley opened out again further in. Drainpipes ran down the walls and high letter-box windows set on either side. I checked the windows to see if anyone could have squeezed through, but the soot and grime in the cracks showed they had been painted shut long ago.

  At the back of the alley was a roller shutter door, set a few feet off the floor for loading and unloading into vehicles. Piled high in the corner next to it was a mound of black binbags, big enough for a person to hide in. I edged towards it and used the end of my scabbard to poke into the pile. A cloud of flies erupted from the bags, buzzing around my head and face before settling back on the bags. The base of one of the bags had ruptured spilling rotting vegetables and split tomatoes. There was no one hiding there.

  I looked at the roller shutter. Had there been time for Andy to open it enough to crawl through and close it again after him? I didn't think so. I pulled the base of it upwards. It was locked, but that didn't mean much. What could be locked could be unlocked, but it would be heavy to lift and slow to move; those things make a tremendous racket. I would have heard it, wouldn't I?

  I moved cautiously back to the opening of the alley, collecting the coat from the drainpipe on the way. It was a good coat with a wool lining, and the inner was still warm. He had abandoned it in a hurry. I went through the pockets looking for clues and came up with a roll of five pound notes and plastic bag of pound coins tucked into the inside pocket.

  I scanned the walls up the skyline above me, half expecting to see someone peeking over the parapet above. No one did. Still, I couldn't help feeling that I was observed. I let my heartbeat slow after the chase, and then extended my senses into the alley. It was not like the hallway at the courts – there was no underlying magic laid layer upon layer to bind and confuse. This was clean, though filaments of power hung in the air like trails of smoke. Someone had used power here, but whatever they'd done, it was dissipating fast.

  Glancing up again at the high walls, I could see that with the loose mortar, something with sharp claws might have scaled those walls, though they would have had to climb pretty quickly to avoid being caught. It made me momentarily glad I hadn't apprehended him in the market. Dealing with such a creature in a crowded place would not have been easy.

  I stuffed the notes into the bag with the coins and put them in my pocket, then rolled the coat into a bundle. Now I had something of value to him. If I couldn't catch him, maybe I could tempt him to reclaim his possessions.

  I walked back to the market, checking behind me frequently. No one followed. I found the rucksack tossed behind a waste bin along the path he'd used to run. Inside were more jars of the viscous amber liquid. It looked like honey.

  Making my way to a coffee shop I ordered a cappuccino and took it to a stool by the window placing the coat on the counter beside me, and looking out over the stalls. I took my time drinking it, looking for people who didn't move with the crowd or who lingered too long in the wrong places. Eventually I had to concede that he wasn't going to reappear. If he was here then he was hanging back, concealed by glamour and unwilling to show himself.

  I drained the cup and took the bundled coat, stuffing the money into an inside pocket. At the counter I asked for a biro and wrote on a napkin.

  I tucked the note in with the money and buttoned closed the pocket, then went back to the stall where I'd originally seen him. The stallholder looked hopeful for a moment until I showed the coat.

  "Do you know Andy, the guy selling honey?"

  He shook his head at me. "He wants too much money for it. He's gotta appreciate we're talking trade prices, not retail."

  "I'm not negotiating on his behalf," I said. "But I found his coat and rucksack. He must have left it behind."

  "What d'you want me to do about it?"

  "If I leave it with you, can you make sure he gets it, next time you see him? It's got his float in it. You'll make sure he gets it, won't you?"

  "What do I look like, Salvation Army?" he protested.

  "Oh come on, someone will pinch it otherwise – it's his stock, and it's a good coat."

  "Yeah, well. Give it over then." He took them from me and tucked it down behind the counter. "If he don't come back for them, I'll give 'em into one of them charity shops. They'll take it."

  "Don't worry. I'm sure he'll stop by. Thanks, you're a gent."

  "Too bleedin' kind-hearted is what I am. Yeesh."

  I walked out of the market down the main aisle, making sure I was visible long after I left. I would return tomorrow and see what happened.

 

Alex wasn't good at waiting, and the time between fivethirty when the tower closed to the public and nine o'clock when they shut the tower up for the night was spent in increasing impatience and irritation. She wanted to get on with it, to get what they came for and leave, but Eve was insistent. They had to wait for the key.

  Cloaked in glamour, they clustered up on the wall near the Water Gate, watching the Yeoman Warders pace through their duties, checking each building and arming the alarm systems that protected the crown jewels and the tower. As the light faded the shadows became deeper and the activity ramped down. Patrols still walked the yards and checked the doors, but their frequency diminished as the human guards transferred their trust to electronic surveillance and security systems. There was joking among the guardsmen and a degree of ribald humour that was reserved for when the public had left.

  "Right," said Eve. "Chipper, Sparky – you've got the difficult job. You have to get close enough to the jewels to make them think it's a real raid, but not so close you get caught."

  Sparky grinned in the twilight. "Don't worry, we're cool."

  "I do worry," said Eve. "I worry that your arrogance and hubris will bring disaster down on our heads. These are some of the most sophisticated systems known to man, but their weakness is that they are aimed against other men, and they are protecting the jewels, not our true targets. By creating a distraction you will draw their attention, and that is both good and bad. They have automatic weapons, infrared vision – for all we know they have a satellite trained on us right now, or the ability to co-opt one for their use. Don't take chances. Take out everything you can see but be prepared for things you can't. Infrared lasers, x-ray scanners, we just don't know. All you have to do is draw their attention. Give us five minutes. That's all we need to get in and out. Stay out of sight and keep concealed until it's time. Once the operation begins we will be out of contact and hidden, even from each other. There's no going back and we'll get one chance, so don't bottle it."

  "We won't bottle it," said Sparky.

  Chipper's eyes shone in the darkness. He looked more alive than Alex had ever seen him.

  "I'm not worried about you." Eve glanced at Alex.

  "I'll be fine," said Alex. "In, out, we're done. I've done this before," she confirmed.

  "Not like this you haven't," said Eve. "If it comes to it, be prepared to use whatever means you have. We cannot afford to get caught, understand? We meet up outside the bar, The Hung, Drawn and Quartered on Great Tower Street."

  "Got it," said Sparky. Chipper nodded. Alex licked her lips, which were suddenly dry.

  "Alex, you understand your part?"

  "One feather, black, coming up," she said.

  "The ceremony of the keys begins at nine sharp. They'll escort in the tourists and walk them around. When they are furthest from the gate down at the White Tower, that's when we hit them. Don't screw up," said Eve. "We're not coming back for you if you get caught. You all have positions. Cloak yourselves, we're on."

  Chipper sprinted away into the dark, followed by a flash of a smile and Sparky was gone too. That left Eve with Alex.

  "Stick to the plan," said Eve. "It'll be fine."

  "Yeah," said Alex. She wasn't sprinting for anyone. She walked away along the wall, hugging the shadows and cloaking herself more deeply with every step.

 

Alex had avoided the paths, figuring that if she was in charge, that's where she would put the pressure pads. Instead she took the stone steps up onto the wall and dropped quietly onto the roof of the aviary. She landed as quietly as she could, but still the birds set up a raucous cawing when she landed. She balanced at the peak of the roof, listening for sounds of human alarm. If there was any, it was drowned out by the birds.

  She edged along the peak of the roof and then slithered down to the eaves on her belly, amid the caws and calls from the occupants. No matter how quiet she tried to be, they got more and more agitated. This wasn't making her job any easier.

  "Shut up, bird brains," she muttered under her breath.

  Below her was a wooden wall with a window covered over with wire mesh. Even if she could get past the wire mesh, she had no guarantee the window would open. She pushed herself sideways along the roof, positioning herself above the door. As she reached it, a figure loomed out of the dark on the path.

  "Ere, what's up with you lot, eh?" said the figure. He was dressed in uniform, but as far as Alex could tell he was unarmed. He didn't look up, failing to notice the girl sprawled across the roof, but went to the door of the aviary, rattling keys until he found the right one.

  "All right, all right, keep your feathers on. Anyone would think there was a snake in there with you."

  He pushed through the doorway, clicking on a light so that it spilled out into the pathway.

  Alex waited, counting heartbeats, listening to the old man chatting away to himself and the birds. It was clear that something had agitated them, but so far he had no idea what. When she got to forty-six, three uniformed figures sprinted across the courtyard, heading for the White tower. There was no alarm sounding, but then who were they going to call? The police? They already had the military here, if they couldn't handle it, who could?

  The guy in the aviary hadn't seen them. It was now or never.

  She moved sideways and rolled over the edge, making as little noise as possible. The birds went wild, cawing and screeching, providing ample cover for her descent. She pushed herself to her feet and slid along the outside wall. He was talking to them like they were people.

  She leaned around the doorway. The old man was watching the birds flapping around inside a large cage, talking to them quietly. One of the birds fixed her, turning hits head sideways in curiosity, so that it could focus on her with the black bead of an eye.