The Laws of Magic 6: Hour of Need (8 page)

Caroline rose. She studied him for a moment before sitting on his knee.

He wasn’t quite sure exactly how it happened. If pressed, he would have asked for three or four hundred pages to write a description of the series of impossibly graceful bendings and movements that ended up with her perched there with one hand on his shoulder. He didn’t understand – and he was sure that it defied physics – how Caroline could be so light on that tiny patch of his leg, and yet so weighty in the way her presence affected him. Her gaze, for instance, probably clocked in at about fifty or sixty tons, to judge from the effect it was having on him.

He never wanted to move. Never, ever, ever. Let the heat death of the universe come along and he’d be quite happy to still have Caroline Hepworth sitting just like that, on his knee, looking at him without speaking. The tiny light of the shaded lantern was irrelevant. He saw everything, every infinitesimal detail, as if it were the brightest of bright middays.

It was so perfect, so hoped for, that Aubrey knew that it couldn’t last. He glanced around.

‘What are you doing?’ Caroline asked very, very softly.

‘Looking for whoever is going to interrupt us.’

‘That’s a pessimistic outlook.’

‘Wars, especially, have a habit of ignoring the lives of people.’

‘If you follow that through, it suggests living for the moment is best.’

‘Live without planning? Without dreams? That sounds rather limited.’

‘And that sounds rather like Aubrey.’

A light touch on the back of his hand and strong fingers intertwined with his. He swallowed as a ball of heat ignited in his chest.

I do believe things might work out well.

‘I have a plan,’ he croaked.

‘I’m sure you do. But let me tell you about what Sophie and I have been up to, first.’

A
UBREY HEARD THE WHOLE EXPLANATION
. I
N FACT
, he’d never heard anything so well. Afterwards, he could have recounted it word for word, backward, so intently did he listen. He could have described every detail of the interior of the rear of the lorry. He could have itemised every night-time sound that came from the woods outside. He could have listed scents, sensations, impressions, every one of them apprehended with all his being, for at the time he knew that he’d remember it forever.

Caroline wasn’t sure how much of the idea of the mission came from Lady Rose, but after Caroline and Sophie were briefed by Craddock and Tallis, they were handed over to her. She introduced them to the leaders of the Albion Suffragist Movement, women who Lady Rose knew well. These formidable women provided names and addresses of suffragist women in Holmland for Caroline and Sophie to memorise.

Aubrey made a valiant stab at keeping his incredulity under control, but he had fears it may have shown on his face. ‘You were sent to promote a suffragist uprising in Holmland?’

She shrugged and the effect was so delightful that Aubrey spent some time thinking of a way to get her to do it again before he realised she’d answered. ‘I beg your pardon?’

No-one could make a moue like Caroline, and she made an exquisite one that stunned Aubrey into immobility before she continued. ‘It may have begun like that, in the office of whoever plans ridiculous schemes, but Lady Rose, Sophie and I had our own way of looking at it.’

‘A far more sensible way than a female insurrection, one would hope.’

‘Indeed. We decided that limiting ourselves to Holmland showed singular lack of imagination.’

Aubrey adjusted the arm he had around Caroline’s waist – the luckiest arm in the world. ‘I think I see where this is heading. You thought that the middle of a continental war would be a good time to advance the cause of votes for women across the world?’

‘Aubrey, enfranchising women has been far too long coming.’

‘Granted, but is this the time?’

‘That’s the argument that’s always used to keep people in their place. I’m sure that before the abolition of slavery there were many well-meaning people shaking their heads and asking the same thing. There’s never a perfect time for massive social upheaval, so we may as well do it now.’

Aubrey had to agree. ‘It would send a good message.’

‘We’ve been exhorted to help our country, but we haven’t been trusted with the vote. It was time to put an end to that, so we negotiated with your father.’

‘He’s an advocate of votes for women. He’s had the devil of trouble getting his party on side, though.’

‘Which is why he was very interested when we put this to him. He used it in a party meeting, insisting that tabling a bill for female enfranchisement was actually a vital part of Albion’s war strategy.’

‘No-one would come out and argue against a vital war strategy.’

‘Of course not.’ Caroline touched him on the chest, just over the spot where the Beccaria Cage had left its mark. ‘Aubrey, at last! Votes for women!’

‘Splendid. There’s just a little matter of a war to get out of the way first.’

‘Quite right. Once the Albion Suffragist Movement was assured of your father’s commitment, all sorts of possibilities opened up. Our mission was revised to include a visit to Lutetia to encourage the Gallian Women’s Rights Association to follow our route, before Sophie and I went to Fisherberg to find Count Brandt’s sister.’

‘No doubt you were authorised to give certain undertakings? Money? Access to intelligence?’

‘Aubrey, we didn’t have to promise anything. Ilse Brandt was already organising her own resistance to Chancellor Neumann’s regime, and since most Holmlandish men were connected with the war in one way or another, she’d been using her female friends and acquaintances. Our assistance will make her organisation stronger, but it was on the way before we arrived.’

‘A remarkable woman, just as her brother was a remarkable man.’

‘She’s nearly twenty years younger than he was. She told me how Count Brandt had left home before she really came to know him.’

‘That’s sad.’

‘When she was older, in her teens, he’d visit and tell of his studies and his travels. When he came, he always brought her a present from wherever he’d been lately. He spoke to her, she said, very formally, in a way that she found both hilarious and endearing. That was when she came to love him in a way that she couldn’t before.’

‘Now, in his memory, she’s continuing his work to bring Holmland back to its people.’

‘It’s her work too, Aubrey. She’s not just filling in for him.’

‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘I’m glad.’ She paused. ‘I know you didn’t. Forgive me.’

‘Of course.’

‘I can be a little prickly when people make assumptions about women.’

‘Really?’

This time, the squeeze on the shoulder was more of a pinch. ‘Don’t affect innocence, Aubrey. You know me very well.’

‘Let’s say I do. Is that a bad thing?’

‘That you know how I feel about the way women have been treated? No. I’d say it suggests a certain familiarity.’

‘And you’re uncomfortable with that?’

‘Would I be sitting on your knee if I were?’

‘No. Probably not. Certainly not.’

‘There you are, then.’

A
SUBLIME TIME LATER, DURING WHICH THEY DIDN’T TALK
at all, George and Sophie came back. Aubrey was disappointed when Caroline detached herself from his embrace, but understood that a time and place for everything was a useful, if unsatisfying, motto.

‘I say.’ George wore a huge grin and he leaned over the backboard of the lorry. ‘You should hear all the magical stuff that Sophie’s been getting up to, old man. Sounds as if she could be useful for whatever you’re planning here.’

Sophie playfully tweaked him on the shoulder. ‘George, Aubrey is an expert. I am a learner.’

‘Sophie had some special instruction from Commander Craddock’s people,’ George said.

‘Not enough,’ she said, ‘but they said that my talents are mostly in the magic of seeming and illusion.’

‘Which is how you were able to slip into Baron von Grolman’s factory,’ George pointed out, ‘even though your magical talents were as rusty as an iron anchor.’

Aubrey blinked. ‘All anchors are iron, George.’

‘Are they? That’s a lot of rust, then, which is my point.’

‘A point that we’ll allow to slide gracefully by. Sophie, I have two items that you’ll be most helpful with.’

A
UBREY ENCOURAGED
S
OPHIE TO CREATE A SMALL LIGHT
for them to work by, and he was pleased to see how readily she managed the spell. As basic as it was, doing spellcraft like this was a way to refine one’s talents and keep them at one’s fingertips. He ignored the occasional flickering of the little floating ball of light as Sophie maintained it while they scratched away at spells in notebooks.

Caroline, George, von Stralick and Madame Zelinka left the spell workers alone in the rear of the lorry, but Aubrey heard them outside, discussing supplies, ammunition and communication.

‘Aubrey,’ Sophie said, holding out her notebook, ‘what do you think?’

The first thing that struck Aubrey was her bold handwriting, and how few crossings-out she’d made, even though she’d covered page after page with spell elements. He felt his hand moving to cover his own notebook, suddenly aware of his customary mess of workings, made worse by handwriting that his masters at Stonelea had despaired over, resigning themselves to the fact that ‘scratchy’ was the best it was going to get.

Crosses, substitutions, arrows to second thoughts written vertically in margins, letters and numbers getting closer together as the ideas came faster and faster … His pages were typical Aubrey work, not really fit for public consumption, not unless he actively wanted to inspire a headache in the reader.

Conscious of her anxious gaze, he worked his way through Sophie’s spells and was impressed by her approach. It wasn’t the way he would have done it, but that was the point. He’d asked her to help, so he had to support her way of going about it. It was good – clever, efficient, smooth in its application of the Law of Seeming – but it simply wasn’t his way.

He was aware enough to realise that this was a leadership lesson, coming at a time he hadn’t been expecting it. The point of delegation wasn’t giving someone a job and then doing it for them. That defeated the whole purpose.

He could see a few places where the interlocking spells could be refined, and he knew that the co-efficient for parameter in the spell that would help people lose their bearings wasn’t in the right place, but these were small problems, things he could help with.

As he assisted her with these improvements, he realised that, soon, Sophie was going to face a major choice in her life. Her avowed career was journalism, but she also had an eye on politics, much as Caroline and Aubrey had. She was also proving to be a capable member of a special missions team, so that career would no doubt be open to her if she chose. On top of that, Aubrey could see that she had an aptitude for magic.

Choices
, he thought, and was immediately glum. Such choices, such thinking about the future was currently pointless. The immediate future was war, and it was so all-encompassing that it was impossible to see anything on the other side of it. ‘After the war’ had already become a wistful, longed-for time, somewhere in the never-never.

A figure emerged from the shadows. Caroline. ‘We have a few hours before dawn. I suggest we all get some sleep.’

Even though Aubrey felt startlingly alert and alive, he understood the need for rest. ‘Excellent idea,’ he said to a world that, in this immediate vicinity at least, was remarkable.