Heart of Gold (37 page)

He shook his head. No, that wasn't right. The tower
was rising.

'Well done.'

Caroline was on hands and knees. He waved, weakly.
'I'm glad it worked.'

She cocked an eyebrow at him. 'Did you think it
mightn't?'

'I had a few qualms.'

'But you went ahead.'

He spread his hands. 'I tend to.'

'I've noticed.'

'Can we get off the floor now?' George asked. Without
waiting for an answer, he rose slowly to his feet, arms
spread for balance. 'There. Much better.'

Aubrey stood and held out a hand to Caroline. She
took it, but held it so lightly that it was clear she didn't
need his assistance.
But she took it anyway
, Aubrey thought
with some satisfaction.

'I say, old man,' George said while he brushed himself
off, 'what was that ghastly noise before we started rising?
Sounded as if the whole place was coming apart.'

With care, Aubrey walked to the window. They'd just
cleared the rooftops of the surrounding buildings and a
crowd had gathered below. Some were pointing, but
others were scurrying around in between plumes of
white vapour and jets of water. Maurice's unmistakeable
figure was on the edge of a large, tower-shaped hole. He
was grappling with a stop cock. 'The cellars,' Aubrey said.
'I forgot about them.'

George and Caroline joined him at the window.
George grinned. 'And about the water and gas pipes.'

'I had a lot on my mind.'

'Maurice won't be happy. Quite a mess we've left.'

At that moment, the old caretaker looked up. Aubrey
winced, anticipating angry fist-shaking. Instead,
Maurice's face split with a wide grin. He hopped from
foot to foot and waved. Aubrey responded and hoped the
caretaker could see him. 'He seems content enough.'

Aubrey's satisfaction drained away as he caught sight of
a familiar, but mysterious, figure. Standing to one side
of the demolition area was the thin, grey-suited stranger
he'd seen several times over the past few days. He was
looking up with some exasperation. Holmland agent?
Marchmainer? Aubrey had no idea, but he didn't believe
the man's appearances were coincidence. Something
would have to be done about him, but Aubrey knew he'd
have to wait in line behind more pressing matters – and
he hoped he wouldn't regret that decision.

The rooftops of the city beyond the university began
to unroll beneath them. With a stateliness and ponderous
grace, the tower rose over the river, the bridges, the
Exposition Tower.

Feeling rather pleased with himself, Aubrey monitored
the building for its orientation, ensuring that it
was stable in all planes. He didn't want it tipping end
over end or spinning on its axis. The ancient building
was already under enough strain; he didn't want it under
any more.

Caroline and George were standing at the window on
the left-hand side of the door. Aubrey joined them. 'How
high are we going?' George asked. He was enjoying
himself, peering out of the window and pointing out
landmarks.

'Not too high. Just enough to clear the rooftops.'
Aubrey pointed. 'We're moving.'

'In the direction of the Heart of Gold?' Caroline
asked.

'I hope so.'

The tower drifted steadily over Lutetia. As it went,
however, it developed a tiny, almost imperceptible tilt,
listing in the direction of its yearning. Aubrey was aware
of it and he started to grow nervous, but it was so slight
neither Caroline nor George had to shift their footing to
accommodate it. 'Let's go to the turret,' he suggested.
'We'll get a better view from up there.'

From the windows of the turret, they had a complete
panorama of the city, unmatched by anything apart from
the view from the Exposition Tower. They were drifting
fifty feet or so above the tallest buildings, but Aubrey
could see astonished faces on the rooftops. People were
gesticulating, and small crowds gathered on corners to
watch the tower's dignified progress.

From here, he was also able to see what had happened
to the city. Whole blocks had burned, with a number still
smoking. In other places, gaps showed where the earth
had opened up and swallowed entire buildings. Water
fountained from broken pipes. Roads were cut by
crevasses that seemed bottomless.

The elegant city had been broken. Not quite ruined,
but Aubrey wondered how much more it could deteriorate
before it was unrecognisable.

The tower drifted at a pace just faster than a rapid
walk, in a north-easterly direction. Some children kept
apace on bicycles, but lost interest when the tower didn't
do anything more spectacular than a balloon. Ahead was
the Montheath district and the vast New Cemetery, then
the parklike grounds of the Modern Asylum.

Aubrey realised they were heading in the direction
of the Laval Woods. In normal circumstances it would
be well populated, but the unwholesomeness of the
river had repelled those who usually enjoyed its
surroundings.

Aubrey found himself busy, monitoring the various
aspects of the tower's flight. He became aware of the fact
that he was in charge of tons of ancient masonry that
could crash down on the city at any minute. His brow
began to sweat.

They drifted directly along the Boulevard of
Rectitude, the broad road that was the main north route
from the city. Aubrey leaned against an upright but could
only make out a lonely rag-and-bone cart clip-clopping
down the usually busy road.

The tower shivered beneath his fingertips and Aubrey
snatched them back as if he'd been burnt. He extended
his magical awareness, skating over the properties of the
spell. Was the tower spinning slightly? Or was it the roof
catching the breeze awkwardly?

'Are we moving more quickly?' Caroline asked.

'I think so.' He relaxed and told his heart to stop being
so dramatic, then he checked the general integrity of the
spell. It was holding well. The reversal was fully in place
and balanced, with the tower just buoyant enough to
float along easily. 'We could be getting closer to our goal.'

The Laval Woods rolled beneath them. The mature
trees were a thick canopy with gaps showing where paths
turned the wilderness into something more manageable.

George pointed. 'I say, what's going on there?'

At the eastern entrance of the park, in front of the iron
fence and gates, was a spread of lawn. It was criss-crossed
with diagonal brick paths, with benches evenly spaced
where a walker might linger on a sunny day. The man and
woman George was pointing at, however, had no intention
of lingering. They were running toward the gates,
pursued by a barrel-like, heavily tusked creature.

'It's a wild boar,' Caroline said. 'It's attacking them!'

Below, the couple had given up their flight for the
gates. They'd stopped behind one of the benches,
keeping it between them and the boar. The boar was
swinging its massive head, brandishing tusks that curved
like scimitars. It pawed at the ground, sending clods
flying. The woman thrust an umbrella at it with good
fencing style, but Aubrey couldn't tell if it was keeping
the brute away, or merely annoying it.

The boar wasn't giving up, however. The man and
woman were trapped.

Aubrey was both alarmed and relieved. Finding an
extinct animal was like finding a signpost to the Heart of
Gold. There were no wild boar anywhere near Lutetia,
he was sure of that, which meant that the Heart of Gold
must be nearby – or have been in this vicinity recently.

He snapped out the cancellation spell and the tower
dropped like a stone.

His stomach tried to claw its way up his throat. Aubrey
gritted his teeth and when he saw the ground rushing up
he gasped out a partial reversal. With a crash that shook
the walls, their plunge stopped and all three were thrown
to the floor, again. Aubrey dragged himself up and was
relieved to see that he'd stopped the tower's descent just
before it ploughed into the ground. He realised he
couldn't leave the tower floating as it would drift off in
the direction of the Heart of Gold, so he ran through a
more careful reversal spell. This time the tower settled
softly onto the earth, with hardly a protest.

Aubrey was first out of the tower. He dropped onto
the grass a few yards from the frightened couple.

With terrifying speed, the boar whirled to confront him
and Aubrey found himself wondering how it managed
on such tiny feet. It snorted a challenge and shook its
tusks. He stared at its mad, red eyes and a knot of fear grew
in his throat and refused to be swallowed away.

Coming to the rescue had seemed like a good idea, but
as he stood there, empty-handed and feeling distinctly
vulnerable, he realised he should perhaps have planned
his intervention rather more carefully.

The boar was almost as tall as he was, a slab of muscle
and rage on the verge of charging. Great, snorting
breaths rasped from its snout. He remembered reading
stories of medieval boar hunts, and how he'd always been
saddened by the poor hounds, gutted by the rampaging
swine. Backing off, he decided he'd rather not share
that fate.

A yell jerked the boar's attention away. George plummeted
from the tower, bellowing a war-cry and flourishing
a long spear. He landed clumsily, but straightened and
poked at the boar's rump. It squealed, angrily, then swung
to face him. Seeing the spear, it backed away, grunting
and huffing.

'It's going to charge,' Aubrey cried as the creature tried
to slip to one side of George's weapon.

George was grim but calm. He jabbed his spear. 'Don't
think so, old man.'

With a whisper, Caroline landed on the grass and was
immediately in a fighting pose – on one knee, butt of her
spear jammed into the ground. A moment later, when
she was sure the boar wasn't charging her, she stood
shoulder to shoulder with George. They presented a
formidable defence. Aubrey noted that, once again, she'd
discarded her clumsy garments and wore the sensible –
and rather fetching – black fighting outfit.

Aubrey felt a little left out as the boar swayed from one
side to the other, trying to get past the weapons. He
patted the pockets of his jacket and felt a hard lump.
Hardly thinking, he pulled it out and threw it at the
boar.

His aim was good. It struck the boar just over one eye.
It squealed, clearly not hurt, but disconcerted nonetheless. It feinted a charge, then – looking almost offended –
galloped off toward the woods.

Aubrey sighed, then stared at his friends. 'You saw off
a vicious wild boar with a pair of curtain rods?'

George shrugged. 'Well, if I'm not mistaken, you just
saw off a vicious wild boar by lobbing a brass door knob
at it.'

It was Aubrey's turn to shrug. 'It was all I had.'

George slung the curtain rod over his shoulder. 'Well,
give me more warning next time and I'll make sure I
have a blunderbuss.'

Caroline twirled her rod around and tapped it on the
ground. She was smiling. 'Improvisation is the key. Isn't
that what you say, Aubrey?'

'I'm glad you chose to model yourselves on me,' he
said gravely. 'A wise decision.'

The woman behind the park bench lowered her
umbrella. 'Ah, it's good to see that things have thawed
between you two, at last.'

'Mother,' Caroline said. 'What
are
you doing here?'

Ophelia Hepworth smiled at her daughter, then at the
man beside her. He was small and neat, with a pointed
grey beard, and even though he had clasped his hands,
they were trembling. 'Obviously, my dear, Alphonse and I
are trying to avoid being savaged by a wild boar. And
now we have, I think he has something to tell you.'

Aubrey blinked as he recognised the document
merchant. 'Monsieur Caron.'

Monsieur Caron rubbed his forehead, then studied the
magic tower for a moment. 'Things have become much
stranger than I'd anticipated,' he said in a faltering voice.
Then he glanced at Mrs Hepworth. She nodded; he
straightened and addressed Aubrey. 'I was meeting a
group of Marchmainers, Mr Fitzwilliam. I was going to
sell them the letters they – and you – were after.'

'And why didn't you?'

'One of them changed into that wild boar. It attacked
us. They ran off. A motorcar was waiting for them.'

'They had the Heart of Gold.'

'Oh, yes. I'd know it anywhere.'

O
NCE THE TOWER WAS ALOFT WITH ITS TWO NEW PASSENGERS,
Aubrey stood with George at the ground-floor window
and urged it onwards. Rivulets of dust trickled from
above as the tower began to move faster.

Monsieur Caron stood with Mrs Hepworth and
Caroline, near the staircase. His face was pale. 'Where are
we going? What is happening?'

'Gallia is falling apart, Monsieur Caron,' Aubrey said,
without turning from the window. 'We're doing our best
to stop it. Are you?'