I woke up at 9am when the alarm I'd been unkind enough to set for myself went off. I dragged myself out of bed, threw some clothes on, and remembered Celia.
Celia was fine. Awake and dressed. She'd had a text from Gus to tell her Damian was at Southmead Hospital. I assured her I hadn't given him her number. Then she had a momentary vision. She saw me with stag horns on my head. I don't know what it means but I've got a bad feeling it's tied to that coin Firs gave me somehow.
I walked Celia to the door, talking music on the way, then went to make breakfast for the others. Which I wouldn't normally do, but Fiona was in no condition to be doing it and Topher was too busy helping her out. Over scrambled eggs and tea we made our plan. Of the names the Sibyl had given us, only one was familiar. What's more, we knew exactly where he was, and he was probably feeling positive about us right now given that we'd just saved his life.
We got in Vanessa the Land Rover and Topher drove us to Southmead accompanied by Portishead. For such an interesting guy he sure has a boring CD collection. I could barely keep my eyes open. Damian was in ICU but he was awake and had Celia sitting with him. He was still putting on that fake Jamaican accent that's not fooling any of us, even in his current state, and was pretty happy to see us. Happy enough to answer our questions about Nigel, anyway. Nigel is a massive bellend, and also his dad. And he's a big man in the Mercury Collegium. He operates out of a pub called the Chelsea and has a Glaswegian attack dog called Colin.
He had less to say on the name Klaus, but at least he could tell us that he was Damian's sponsor in the Clan. It was obvious he needed some rest, so we went on our way. Our next move was going to have to be talking to either Klaus or Nigel, and right now the werewolves we'd just helped out seemed like a better bet than the Mercury Collegium. Topher gave Gus a called and arranged a meeting for Sunday Lunch at the Mitchester.
It rapidly became apparent that the Bristol traffic was not going to allow us to get back in time to get the lunch service going. And Vanessa's pretty roomy but I could feel myself getting increasingly antsy, stuck in the car in what felt like an endless traffic jam. In the end I couldn't take it any longer. I opened up the sunroof, shifted, and launched myself into the air, leaving a pile of clothes and a brief burst of ozone and daisies. With hindsight I should probably have warned the others first.
I had some pretty standard beef and turkey laid on for lunch service but we were about to have special guests so I decided to pick something up on the way back. There are pheasants in the city if you know where to look, and I soon had an alternate menu option to take home. I tapped on the window to alert Cassie when I got back - I swear that girl still thinks I have an unusually smart pet falcon - and she let me in.
The others arrived half an hour after we started serving, moments before Gus and Klaus, by which time I'd eaten the parts of the pheasant not considered fit for table and reverted to human form. Cassie called in the request for the chef's special, telling me one of the customers was really good looking. After getting a look at Klaus, whose gait was the only thing about him that didn't scream accountant, I really hoped she was talking about Gus.
The werewolves were pretty cagey about everything. According to them, Damian had been taken into the clan on his own merits and had proved himself. I asked about Nigel, but they denied any knowledge of that name. As they went on their way, Fiona assured us they were lying, but we weren't going to be able to get any more out of them without something to offer.
Then my phone went. Amelia. She'd set up a meeting for 7pm in a nearby tapas restaurant. Hardly ideal since we were still on a time limit for solving this problem for the Sibyl, but high end restaurant reservations aren't the kind of thing that can easily be changed and we needed this information.
With no further leads it was obvious we were going to have to talk to Nigel. Topher was concerned his showing up while Colin was around was likely to start a fight, but the alternative was me and Fiona going in on our own, and while I can look after myself, I can't look after Fiona too. We wanted him with us, and we wanted him armed.
It was obvious from the outside what kind of pub the Chelsea was. People sitting around with poorly concealed weapons, the stench of weed, the kind of cracked windows you get from people being thrown at them, and nitrous oxide canisters littering the ground. We parked nearby, not wanting to put Vanessa in the car park, and headed for the door. We were intercepted by what I assume was the landlady. She obviously didn't like the look of us, and told us to get in our Chelsea tractor and go home.
We asked about Nigel, but once again we were stonewalled. Topher brought up Colin without much effect. She told us to leave again and we could see weapons were being drawn. So it was going to have to be a show of power, and my power is the weather. I called the wind into a swirling vortex around us, picking up litter, nitrous canisters and bullet casings. How dare she talk about Vanessa like that? Fiona reached into it and picked out a bullet casing, getting stares from some of those around. Stares, and weapons sheathed. It seemed we'd made our point.
The pub was nasty. A grimy little place with one of those squishy carpets that have had far too much beer spilt and never cleaned up. Nigel was seated at the back, behind a bead curtain. He bore enough resemblance to Damian that we knew we had the right person. On with the show of strength. He demanded Topher and me sit down. We looked to Fiona for instructions, making it clear she was in charge. She stood her ground and we stayed standing. Again we'd made our point.
Then he did something none of us expected. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a snap of his fingers. And the air was suddenly full of the smell of bitter ash.
I would have liked to ask him how exactly he learned how to do that, but I was on a time limit, so went straight for the obvious. What was going on involving Klaus and his boy? Nigel's response confirmed Damian's description of him as a bellend. Seems he's one of those parents who don't believe in kindness. No wonder Damian wanted nothing to do with his dad, or his business.
I was starting to hope we might get somewhere when Colin walked in, threw a folder on the table, and immediately abandoned what he was saying to get in Topher's face. Fiona took the opportunity to ask Nigel why the bitter ash smell had shown up somewhere associated with his son, which I think actually surprised him. For a moment I thought I was about to have to do a runner with Fiona, but holy shit, Topher actually challenged Colin to a game of darts, and in the resulting confusion I managed to get a look at that folder.
There were photos inside. One was that vault underneath the Cornubia, and from the state of it, it was definitely after we'd made our visit. The other was the Mitchester Arms, with an arrow drawn on pointing at Fiona's window.
We didn't stick around much longer. Back in Vanessa, Topher told us Colin was wearing a silver chain that didn't look like the kind of jewellery a man like that would want to be seen wearing. I knew what it was. A talisman. Similar to one Fiona had seen DS Gunne with, it turned out. With Gunne apparently too sick to take a call, she called one of his people, who said it was from some stuff belonging to DCI Choudhury, Myers' predecessor.
Then Topher spotted we were being followed. Some old Ford. Vanessa can shift when we want her to, and Topher shook them off. But why would anyone follow us? Everyone knows where we live. Especially people with photos showing Fiona's bedroom.
I was going to have to hustle if I was going to make my dinner date, and the others were going to have to get back to Clan Kielsyn for a trade of information if we were going to get the Sibyl's job done in time. So I got dropped off near the Mitchester and went to get ready. I don't have much in the way of clothes suitable for anything fancier than my own kitchen, but I've got one decent pair of shoes and a nice dress from Primark. Along with some makeup and tidying up my hair I felt I looked quite respectable.
Or at least, I did until I got to the door of the restaurant and remembered that places with Michelin stars are on a whole different level. I guess the fact I had sunglasses on probably didn't help, but it's either that or go flashing my freak eyes to the normies and I felt out of place enough already. Fortunately the staff were expecting me.
I saw Amelia first. Straight away I took in the designer dress and the red soled shoes. It took a moment longer to spot her earrings. Silver studs, mostly hidden by her hair. The ones I gave her when we were still sixth-formers. God I miss her.
And then there he was. Percival Fitz-Percy. Fucking Percy. That place pretty much trained the swearing out of us, but that one stuck. He wanted me to take the sunglasses off but I refused. He had to know why I hide my eyes but still. No reason he needed the specifics.
He got straight down to business, calling me his biggest failure. Yes, I'd heard it all before. So much promise. So much potential. Amelia pushed a ring box across the table to me. I tried to make a joke about how this didn't seem like the right time for a proposal, but my heart wasn't in it. It was a ring, of course. A Council of Merlin signet ring, just like the ones they were both wearing. He didn't have to say a word but he said it anyway. He wanted me to take it, become an associate member of the Council, and started digging up my so-called arcane lineage. So he could stitch me up with some kind of noble heritage and have me inherit land and money and shit.
How dare he? The absolute bastard, trying to lure me in with money, like I'd have given up my college scholarship to go and work in a pub if it had been about money. Because if they'd actually given a shit about my so-called lost noble heritage they'd have done something for my parents instead of doing nothing until my talent manifested.
But I needed info. So I was going to have to at least take the ring box and think about it for a while. And he'd listened to Amelia over the bitter ash smell. He agreed it sounded fae, and took the opportunity to remind me of a few things I already knew from classes, like boggarts being associated with earth and larceny. Honestly, being reminded of those cute little dickheads was probably the best part of the evening. But fire had never come up, and of course there are no real pyromancers despite what some people would like to claim.
I was starting to wonder if he was just going to tell me things I already knew, but then he started talking about something else. Something they'd found near the observatory. Amelia said that it was beautiful, and I needed to see if for myself. I thought of the vault under the Cornubia. Could there be more than one? And it sounded like I could get all the answers there, but of course I couldn't be allowed to visit, or even be told any more about it. Because I wasn't a member of the Council.
I said I needed time to think about it. I needed to know more but the thought of getting back in their gilded cage was making me feel sick. I was glad of my sunglasses because I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, and all I was actually thinking about was how I hoped Fiona and Topher were back at the Mitchester because if I was going to cry in front of someone I wanted it to be them and not Amelia and especially not fucking Percy.
Then his phone went. He looked at it, showed it to Amelia, and both of them went white. Then I heard the police sirens outside.
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