The inside was as impressive as the outside, a huge corridor that reminded her of Hogwarts, a ceiling high enough to play rugby under and more bizarre wooden carvings than she’d seen on a lifetime of exam desks. It also smelled, of money and expensive hotels. Probably. Neither of them were things she had much experience in. The place was silent. She stopped short of saying ‘as the grave’, but only just.
Scarlet tiptoed down the corridor, keeping to the edge, as if she wouldn’t be spotted. The scrape of her shoes on the wooden floor was horribly loud, and conspicuous, and she found herself kind of sliding along, a sort of swish-tap movement, that made probably as much noise, but might make anyone listening think they were being invaded by a crocodile.
Martin was here, somewhere, assuming the sisters had told her the truth. So where was he, and how was she going to get him out without being caught by the Council?
Alex and Rat man were still outside, ‘watching’ her, apparently, and waiting. She hoped Martin, if she found him, could deal with that. The corridor ended in a huge round room, doors leading off in every direction. She went to each in turn, pressing an ear against them.
From some, she heard the murmur of voices, from others, the clash of metal on metal. It was, she decided, sword fighting, which came pretty high on the list of cool things she should be able to do. Could Martin sword fight? Her mind was trying to replay what Alex had said to her outside, about Martin being dead, but she was ignoring it, much the same way she ignored maths, or any story that ended ‘and then she woke up…’
Plumping for one of the silent ones, Scarlet took the door handle, ignoring the slight shake in her hand, and pulled it open. The noise that assailed her as she pulled was loud enough that she thought she’d gone deaf, so intense was it and so utterly agonising.
She clapped her hands over her ears, dropping to her knees and burying her face in her lap. She barely felt the hands that grabbed her shoulders and hauled her upright. It was only the abrupt cessation of the noise that made her open her eyes and take in the three men stood before her.
They were tall, but then everyone was, compared to her. They were dressed in black, which was kinda cool. And they all looked very angry. She giggled. It was turning out to be the kind of night where nothing was scary anymore, just ‘cause she’d gone past the point. Once someone puts a knife to your eye, the presence of three guys with identical scowls and little badges on their arms, just isn’t that bad.
‘Um, hi, so I’m looking for the toilet, sorry, I think I took a wrong turn.’
They kept glaring. ‘Which one of you is Gerald? I was told to meet Gerald, but I just can’t find him anywhere.’
She giggled again, and the three of them exchanged looks. Finally, one stepped forward and took her arms. She shrugged him off, glaring at him. He was young, not much older than she was. She glanced at the others and realised they were all baby-faced.
‘You will come with us now.’
He was speaking in a very deep voice. She giggled, shaking her head. There was something to be said for a knife at the eye, if only so she knew proper bad when she saw it. Although, based on what just happened outside, she should have stuck with her first instinct. ‘Where are we going? Cos if they don’t got wifi, ah ain’t int’rested.’
She wagged her finger, her impression of a sassy black chick standing up even under such demanding circumstances. The man who had spoken tried again. ‘Our masters wish to see you, you will come with us.’
She raised an eyebrow, shaking her head again. ‘Look, I’ll come, cos I think I need to speak to them, but please, drop the voice, you just sound stupid.’
The guy blushed, grabbing her arm again and this time she let him guide her away from the door and through another. She was pulled down a corridor, and through a series of doors, each separated by a pointless, tiny little room, and finally into a large chamber, dark in the corners, and empty but for four chairs, each sat on a little platform.
She was, presumably, about to meet some of the Council. Should she curtsey, or bow maybe? She couldn’t stop laughing, which was probably due to sleep deprivation. She should probably stop that.
Another door opened, and a robed man stepped through. He was fiddling with a tie at the front and poking out the bottom were a pair of jeans, and slippers. He was rubbing at his face and yawning. Waking him up probably wasn’t the best start.
He slumped in the first chair he came to, and beckoned her forward. She almost refused, but again the thought of Martin got her feet moving.
‘You have entered somewhere you should not be, child. Who are you and why are you here.’
It felt like it had in hell, like the words were coming from somewhere, or someone, else. ‘My name is Joanna Slater, I am apprenticed to Martin, and demand the right to see him.’
The man sat up straighter, eyebrows raised as he stared down his nose at her. ‘So it’s true. He told us he had an apprentice, but it’s been so long, we didn’t believe him. What has he told you of his reasons for visiting us?’
Scarlet shook her head. ‘Nothing, not a bloody thing. I haven’t had my last two lessons, so I went looking for him.’ She blurted out the events of the last few hours, as quickly as she could, omitting the minutes. It would have been much easier if he had told her what was going on, she had no idea whether lying was the best policy. She figured if they knew she was lying, they’d have said something when she said her new name, but he hadn’t reacted at all.
When she finished, his eyebrows had risen a little, but nothing else had changed. He was silent and she waited, head cocked to one side. Had he fallen asleep? She had a cousin who slept with her eyes open, freakiest thing, like, ever. When he nodded, she thought he was going to fall forward out of the chair, but he didn’t.
‘You have had an interesting night, Miss Slater. I cannot help but be impressed that you are still standing and still searching for your master. Can I ask you once again, and remind you, or perhaps, inform you, that you stand before one of the four, the spiritual and practical masters of magic in England. We have considerable powers at our disposal, and your answer may have serious repercussions. Choosing to lie might not be a wise move. Do you understand?’
She swallowed, and nodded. She wasn’t laughing now. He wasn’t trying hard, like Alex, or the three boys who had quietly left the chamber once her interview began. He was calm, and matter of fact, and entirely confident. Even the little rabbits on the side of his slippers didn’t distract her from what he was saying.
‘So, are you sure you know nothing of why Martin has come here.’
She swallowed again. ‘All I know was what the guys who kidnapped me said, that he used to work here, then something happened and he left and made lots of people angry. Or maybe he made them angry first, and then left, I’m not sure.’
The member of the four waved his hand to silence her. ‘OK, fine, that’s enough. You may meet with Martin, but I should warn you that he isn’t going anywhere at this moment in time.’
He stood, kicking the robes out so as to not trip over them, and walked through another door, holding it open for her. She ran over to follow him and they walked side by side down another corridor.
He glanced down at her. ‘You met the sisters?’
‘Uh, yeah.’
‘Not many meet them. Was it a… useful meeting?’
She shrugged. ‘They told me he was here, so, I guess so. They were scary.’
He chuckled, nodding. ‘Yes they are. You are serious about your magic?’
The sudden change in subject made her blink, but she could handle that. She had, like, seventeen pinterest boards, this was nothing. ‘Yeah, yeah I am.’
He nodded again, impassive. ‘After this… affair is over, you might think about attending here. You have talent, you would be welcome here.’
‘Oh, thanks. Um, does it cost alot, cos, you know, my mum doesn’t work very much and that and—’
He flapped his hand at her again. ‘That is another conversation, for another time. Here.’
They came to another door, and he pushed it open, gesturing for her to step through. She took a step, and stopped, half in the room. Martin was there, on his knees, hands pulled above his head and tied with something to hoops in the wall. He was naked aside from a pair of pants and his face was bloody and bruised.
She turned back to the man, but he was gone. His voice floated down the corridor. ‘Martin will not be leaving right now, and neither will you.’
Something shoved her and she stumbled into the room, the door slamming behind her.
Next installment Monday 16th December
