The Courtship of Julian St. Albans (21 page)

“And thus you became
the pot-boy,” teased Alex with a chuckle.

“So now we just do it before you
can,” said Jacques. He paused, then added impishly, “So to
speak.”

Alex yawned hugely. “Well, I won’t be
doing any it at all except sleeping. Will you two be back?”

“We’ll come by in the morning with
breakfast unless the threat on you is deemed too high,” said Jacques.
“You need rest, and you never sleep very well with us in the room.”

“It’s a bit weird, anyway, with one of you
sleeping across the threshold like that,” said Alex, referring to the way
they’d positioned a cot across the door to do night watches, much to the
staff’s annoyance.

“Well, we’d do that with the front door
here, we’ll be bringing something back to sleep on since there’s no extra room
here.”

Alex shrugged a bit sheepishly. “Sorry,
work room won over guest room when I was fixing the place up… Though actually
I think my couch might fold out, I’ve no real idea.”

“We’re used to ours,” said James,
coming back in from outside. “Perimeter’s clear, no sign of lurking
beasties.”

There was a knock on the door, which turned out
to be Victor and Jones with provisions, including Victor’s favourite brand of
tea. Alex directed while everything got put away and a proper tea was made up
with deli sandwiches and Battenberg cake for everyone, along with a nice big
pot of Victor’s tea.

“It’s a good thing I got more than a pint
of milk,” teased Victor, as they all five tucked in.

“I wasn’t thinking of feeding the lot of
you when I made the list,” said Alex sheepishly, grateful for once for his
brother’s interference.

“We got plenty,”
assured Jones, and Alex nodded in agreement.

“Thanks,” he said,
going back to his sandwich and blessedly strong tea.

The meal was mostly quiet, until Horace came
tapping at the kitchen window. After checking for illusions, James let the bird
inside, then closed up the window tight and handed him off to Alex.
“That’s probably our cue to go,” said James, draining his teacup
without bothering to sit.

Jacques followed suit, loading up Alex’s
dishwasher with Jones’ help, so they were all cleaned up and ready to leave in
short order.

“I’ll send Jones back in the morning for
your PT,” said Victor, “but I’ll need him after three, so try not to
do too much shopping.”

“After PT, I may not want to do any
shopping,” said Alex wryly. “Go on, we’ll make it work. There’s
always cabs, I’m sure the city’s cab drivers have grown to miss me.”

“No cabs,” said
James, with surprising finality.

Victor chuckled. “The Guardian has spoken…
If it comes to it, I can use another car for a bit, there’s bound to be someone
on staff who can drive me around.”

It was Jones who spoke up this time. “I’ll
help you pick someone, I think the youngest Sharpish boy has been wanting to do
more than wash the cars.”

They said their goodbyes, then chatted on out
the door, James waiting until he heard Alex lock up and put up the chain,
though he took the spare keys. When they were gone, Alex slumped against the
door and sighed, then meticulously doused the lights and put himself to bed,
belongings haphazardly scattered on the bureau and clothing tossed over a chair
when he changed into pyjamas.

He’d really missed his own bed, and as soon as
he was curled comfortably up in the familiar soft sheets, he dropped off to
sleep.

CHAPTER
17

In Which We Awaken Quite Unexpectedly

When Alex awoke, he expected to find one of his
Guardians had tripped a ward nosing around, or his phone had finally vibrated
itself off the nightstand. He didn’t expect that his questing hand would close
on the body of an earth sprite, and that brought him awake all at once.

It tried to get away and he shook it sharply
enough to rattle its teeth, shifting so he was holding it up by its collar. It
was squat and brown as dirt, wearing bits of leaf and fur pinned together with
shiny metal, and it held Alex’s amethyst cravat pin one grubby hand.

“Hey, what’d ya do that
for?” protested the wriggling creature.

“You are in my bed uninvited, little
sprite,” said Alex, without an iota of humour in his tone. He was still
tired, his leg hurt, and he was most definitely tired of wayward magic.

The sprite sighed and went still. “Whataya
want?” it asked resignedly; magical beings like sprites committed any sort
of mischief they could get away with, but once caught, they were bound until
their captor chose to free them.

“Give me three true answers, and I’ll set
you free,” said Alex, a fairly standard bargain, and a generous one,
considering the trespass. He plucked his pin from the sprite’s hand and added, “And
I’ll be keeping this, and anything else you stole from me.”

It looked sheepish, but produced the matching
cufflinks as well. “Almost took yon pricey magic bauble, but I figured
you’d go a-scrying for it.”

“You figured correctly,” said Alex
dryly. He set the creature down, and it slumped to the bedclothes, though none
of the dirt on it transferred to the duvet. Alex took a moment to pour himself
a glass of water and drink it, then he considered his options carefully. Three
questions wasn’t always enough, and if he wasn’t careful he’d end up having to
bargain away those cufflinks just to get to the heart of the matter.

Well, best to start with the basics. “Tell
me the whole story of how you came to be in my flat and past my wards,
sprite.”

The sprite looked positively mournful at this.
“That’s a long answer indeed,” it said. “I don’t suppose you’d
spare a drop of whisky for a poor creature of the earth?”

Alex laughed. “Are you sure you want to be
further beholden to me?” he asked.

It slouched further. “I were just
asking,” he said with a sigh. At Alex’s impatient glare, it shifted and
began its tale. “It began a moon or so ago, not long by the earth’s
reckoning, ye ken, but long enough in this case. I were digging in the back of
this shop for something shiny for a lady sprite, and I’d just found a nice bit
o’ tin when I got caught up in somebody’s wards as they was going up.”

Alex nodded, but held back any further
questions, gesturing for the sprite to be going on with it. He knew
interruptions might be taken by the rule-twisting faerie as a sign that the
answer was sufficient.

The sprite looked amused at that, but continued
anyway. “I were caught good, and he weren’t nice like you, let me tell ya.
I’ve gotta do three services, and this is me last.” He paused with a sly
look, then sighed. “I sure am thirsty.”

Alex gave him a dry,
unimpressed look.

“You’re a hard one, but not so hard as him
as caught me last,” said the sprite, lifting his furs to show a cold iron
shackle around one ankle, the flesh around it swollen and chafed.

Alex swallowed, but he still didn’t comment. It
was getting harder, with questions crowding his brain, so he forced himself to
answer as many as he could. The shackle, for instance, wasn’t spelled on, but
since it was cold iron the sprite wouldn’t be able to pick the lock. Some of
the bits of metal in holding together the creature’s strange clothing had
half-obliterated runes, which meant he knew of somewhere he could get scrap
metal that had once been magically charged, but was no longer, a valuable bit
of knowledge for an earth sprite looking to impress the ladies.

There was more, but the sprite dropped his
clothes back down and started speaking again. “I don’t know his name so
there’s no use asking me that, and all three of me errands I was sent to
deliver magical thingummies to places they couldn’t go by themselves.”

Alex raised an eyebrow.

“The first place was back to where I came
from, which was mighty odd since it were full of other magical bits and bobs
already, and I left a half dozen of his little nasties there and didn’t set
them off until I was just a step from outside the wards. I were suspicious of
him as has motive to send in nasties like them, and he were right surprised
when I turned back up, let me tell you.”

More and more interesting. Six of the things,
two of which had activated, if his guess as to the location in question was
correct.

The sprite seemed to be enjoying his audience
now, getting into the meat of the story, and he continued on without prompting.
“He weren’t too happy at first, but he had three of his nasties left, so
he sent me first to visit one of the big temples, but them has wards against
the likes of me so I had to leave it and come back unsuccessful, though I did
what he asked to the best of me ability so the agreement was fulfilled,”
he said, and Alex could tell he wasn’t sure that the mysterious mage was going
to agree.

“And that brings me here, there’s a nasty
surprise hiding somewhere about and I were surprised to be getting in at all,
but careless tsk tsk, your wards bent to me and my tricks.” The sprite
looked very smug about that, and Alex felt that this was an obvious warning to
make the effort to upgrade all his wards, and soon.

“Careless me,” said Alex. He phrased
his second request just as carefully. “Now, tell me everything you can
remember about the mage, including the location where he caught you, his exact
instructions to you, and any business you overheard of his.”

“Oi, that ain’t sporting, putting in all
them ands,” said the sprite, looking sulky again, but he launched into
another litany, punctuated as it was by sighs, dark looks, and the occasional
sulk.

Alex kept paper and pen by his bedside; he had
a tendency to either get ideas as he was falling asleep, or be woken up by a
call from Lapointe with an address he needed to be at. He took careful notes,
which seemed to surprise the sprite, and Alex was pleased that the instructions
were only to be to deliver the nasty surprises and activate them, not to return
and report anything. Apparently this mage was arrogant enough to believe that
his creations would take care of everything, without the need for further
information about his enemies.

“You still have one true answer to give
me,” said Alex, when the sprite’s recitation had wound down, “but I
need to make a phone call, so I will let you have either a cup of tea or a dram
of whisky with no obligation.”

“And if a body wants a
bit of both?” it asked, clearly curious.

“Then I might have another bargain for
you, now that your obligation to your previous captor is concluded, and once
I’ve had my third answer,” said Alex with a smirk.

The sprite laughed, clearly pleased by Alex’s
manner. “All right, then, I’ll be taking the tea. Whisky’s far better for
a bargain,” he said.

“This way, then,” said Alex, sparing
him the indignity of being carried about like a doll. They made their way into
the kitchen, and Alex said casually, “If that nasty surprise murders me, I
can’t remove your new little anklet for you.”

“I told ye I don’t activate the nasties
until I’m nearly gone myself,” said the sprite just as casually.

“I’ve got Harrods, either British
Breakfast or Earl Grey,” said Alex, putting enough water in the kettle to
make a whole pot. “I’ve no real preference for one over the other.”
He didn’t mention Victor’s nice tea, figuring he’d best save that gift for
sucking up to the giver.

“I ain’t had a good Earl Grey in
ages,” said the sprite, looking very interested indeed.

Alex grinned and got down the box, getting out
the pot and rummaging in his fridge for milk, setting that out with honey and
sugar both. The little folk were known for their love of honey and milk, and
Alex was keen to be seen as generous. He might have resented being woken up in
the middle of the night, but now all he cared about was the benefit he could
get from it.

Once the tea was steeping, he pulled out his
phone and called, not Lapointe, but Smedley. “I know I’m supposed to be
resting, but I need one of those special evidence boxes delivered to my house.
I know how the devices were placed, and there’s one here.”

Smedley didn’t even bother to scold him, just
gave him an ETA and hung up. Alex cursed himself for not getting a number for
his Guardians before sending them away, but then, they’d all thought his wards
were up to the task.

“Clever man, you are, for all your wards
are shite,” said the sprite, echoing Alex’s thoughts.

Alex laughed and set out three different-sized
cups, letting the sprite choose his first. They both added milk to the bottom
of their mugs, Alex going for sugar while the sprite spooned in a ridiculous
amount of honey, then Alex topped them off with the nice, strong tea.
“Mmm, nothing quite like a good strong cuppa,” said Alex, putting his
tatty tea cosy over the top of his pot. It might not be in the best shape, but it
still kept the tea warm, and Smedley — or whoever he sent over to collect the
nasty — would be grateful to use the third, mid-sized cup.

The sprite had taken the small one, evidently
preferring ease of use over quantity of drink, something Alex would reward with
refills.

Alex let them both just enjoy their tea for a
moment, trying to think what the third question might be. He’d already learned
all he would about the mysterious wizard and his devices, though frustratingly
the man didn’t fit the description of any of Alex’s suspect list, which might
mean everything or nothing.

Alex sipped his tea then froze as a bit of
movement caught his eye. “Are you sure he can’t activate them without
you?” asked Alex, trying to think if he knew any good defensive charms
against such things. He wasn’t wearing his charmed shoes now, and he doubted
that silk pyjamas would be much of a defence against the sort of device that
had killed the shop owner.

The sprite went so still he almost vanished
from sight. “Not totally sure, no.”

“And this one was left where?” asked
Alex, feeling the sprite might answer one extra question to help save his own
skin.

“Mantel,” said the sprite shortly.
“Sort of a scorpion-looking thing, nasty bugger.”

Alex saw something skitter up the door frame.
“The mantel is bare,” he said, moving very slowly toward the stove.

Everything seemed to happen at once after that
— the doorbell rang, the sprite vanished, the device leaped from the edge of
the door, and Alex grabbed the cast-iron frying pan on the stove and smashed
the thing flat against the refrigerator door.

Iron was proof against more
than faeries, after all.

“Ooh, good shot,” said the sprite,
who was perched atop the appliance in question.

Loud knocking issued from the front door.
“Benedict, what’s going on in there?” said Smedley’s familiar, tired
voice.

Alex whistled a little tune and the set-spell
on the door caused it to unlock. “You’re a bit late,” said Alex, as
Smedley dashed into the kitchen, gun out and eyes vigilant.

Smedley laughed. “A frying
pan?” he asked, putting his gun away.

“Cold iron,” said Alex. “Best
get the box ready anyway, in case there’s any life left.”

“I can’t wait to tell Lapointe about
this,” said Smedley, watching for any sign of movement as Alex pulled the
pan away from the now-dented fridge. The pieces fell to the floor and lay
unmoving, the spell broken just as thoroughly as the mechanics.

They used a broom and dustpan to get it all
into the box, then Alex poured Smedley his own cup of tea, fixing up a second
cup for the sprite as well and casually putting it atop the fridge.

“Do I want to know?” asked Smedley;
the sprite had vanished again when he came in, and was evidently intending to
stay that way.

“Probably not,” said Alex, amused
when the cup disappeared, too. “I’ll explain tomorrow, when I give my
statement.”

Smedley chuckled and shook his head. “I’m
sure there’s rules against me being in your flat alone at night, what with you
Courting your young man,” said Smedley, finishing off his tea, “or
else I’d make you do it tonight.”

“I think police work counts as an
exception,” said Alex, “but I also think we both need more sleep
before we try to be coherent.”

“Amen to that,” said Smedley, setting
down the cup. “Well, I hate to rescue and run, but I’ve got to go add this
to Armistead’s pile and get back to my warm bed.”

Alex grinned evilly.
“Good,” he said.

Once Smedley was gone and the house properly
locked up, Alex went back into the kitchen and put the frying pan in the sink.
“I’ll never get the dents out of that,” he said with a sigh, looking
at the fridge.