The Witch Watch (46 page)

“Lord Moxley?” Alice said nervously. The door to the apartment was hanging open, and some of his papers had blown out into the street.

A man was kneeling in the middle of the floor, amidst a mess of strewn papers and overthrown furniture.

“Mr. Byron,” Alice said.

“This is your fault!” the man sobbed. “They took him! Because of you! You people and your notes and papers and messages!”

Alice did her best to unravel what had happened, but Byron was irrational, emotional, and not terribly sharp. All she was able to tell was that Lord Moxley had been arrested at some point during the night.

Alice held up her newspaper. “The coronation is tonight,” she said. She showed the headline to Gilbert and Simon. WIZARD CLAIMS THRONE, it declared boldly.

It was now morning. They had spent the previous twenty-four hours in a doss-house near the Thames. The proprietor had at first refused Alice entry on account of her womanhood, but he relented when it was pointed out that he didn’t have much in the way of boarders to begin with, and that Alice was willing to pay him double.

“Amazing that the papers know about it, and are willing to report it,” Simon said curiously.

“The report makes no mention of the new king being a lich. Either that is unknown, or Mordaunt has control of the papers,” Alice said.

“I can’t believe how everyone seems to be going on as if this was nothing unusual,” Gilbert said while gesturing at all of the Londoners who were going about their business. “The citizens aren’t banding together. They’re not fighting. They’re not fleeing the city. They’re just ignoring it.”

Alice lowered the newspaper. “There is very little the common man can do. Fight? Our foe has already defeated the entire city garrison in a single night, with only minimal losses to himself. Flee? Where would the shoemaker go? The blacksmith? The tailor? Uproot their family and flee into the wilderness and wait to starve?”

“Don’t we have more soldiers?” Simon asked. “Surely the British Empire has more than a few thousand men?”

Gilbert nodded, “Yes!”

“And what will they do?” Alice chided. “Invade the city? Mordaunt was cunning to keep the royal family alive. It makes him appear merciful, while at the same time gives him a selection of very valuable hostages. Nobody could lay siege to the palace without the risk of killing the Royal Family. The army may converge here on the city, but their leadership is divided. It will be easier for most people to accept this new king as legitimate than to undertake a large, destructive, and possibly hopeless fight that would only result in the death of Her Majesty.”

Gilbert sat down on the street corner beside Alice. “This has depressed me.”

“So we must stop him ourselves,” Simon said nervously.

The other two regarded him with surprise.

“Or are we giving up?” he asked in response to their silence.

“No. You are right. I was only surprised to hear you so eager for danger,” Alice said with raised eyebrows.

“I am not afflicted with
eagerness
for danger, I assure you!” Simon said. “Willingness, perhaps.”

Alice closed the newspaper and began rubbing her hands together to warm them. “Well, we must do what we can. It’s the purpose of the ministry, which you two seemed to have inadvertently joined. We are the only ones able to oppose him with magic of our own, which is probably the only thing capable of defeating him.”

Gilbert turned to Simon. “I was considering this when the two of you were sleeping. What about that spell you used on me, at Ravenstead? I remember I collapsed the moment I stepped into the circle. That would give us the victory without a fight, assuming it would work on him.”

Simon scratched his head thoughtfully, “The circle used to retrieve vigor from the reanimated? It’s complex.”

“Do you need a book?” Alice asked.

“That’s not what I mean,” Simon replied. “I remember it well enough, but it takes time to draw. Gilbert blundered into it because he didn’t know anything about magic.”

“I didn’t
blunder
,” Gilbert protested.

“However you came to enter the circle, we won’t have that advantage against my old master. Even if we did manage to draw one where he might enter it, he would know to step back out.”

“I lost control of my body the moment I entered the circle,” Gilbert countered. “Even if I had understood, I was helpless to escape it.”

“That’s one part of the puzzle,” said Alice said hopefully. “Now we just need a way to make an incredibly elaborate sorcery circle and arrange for him to enter it unaware.” She handed the newspaper to Gilbert and rubbed her temples.

“The coronation seems like it would be the time to attempt it,” Gilbert said, looking at the paper. “He will be in public, commoners will be allowed near, and we know where he will be. Much easier than trying to enter the Palace ourselves.”

“I’m still hungry,” Simon muttered.

“Take it,” Alice said, handing him the last of the bread she’d purchased. “And savor it. That bread was bought with the last of the funds given to me by Lord Moxley. We are now homeless, penniless, and without support.”

Simon chewed the bread slowly and looked downcast.

“I might be able to raise some money if I were to sell some of my weapons,” Gilbert suggested. “This rifle should fetch money enough to keep the two of you fed for a bit longer.”

“I’m unsure about the legality of taking and selling gear recovered from our own soldiers. In either case, don’t sell it yet. We may need it tonight.”

Simon spoke around a mouthful of bread, “I suppose we shouldn’t worry about money just yet. I mean, anything could happen tonight. One of us might die.”

“One of us already has,” Gilbert replied. Alice answered him with a gentle kick.

The coronation was being held in the garden just west of Buckingham Palace, and was open to the public. According to the papers, there would also be a speech given by the newly-crowned king. The area east of the palace was more traditionally used for official gatherings and interactions with the public, but this was still scorched and the dead were still being carried away.

The three of them stood on the edge of the grassy clearing, which was quickly being decorated for the coming event. Colorful flags were being hung and gas lamps were being set in place. Several men were completing the construction of a wooden stage roughly the same dimensions as a railway boarding platform.

“Now we know where the man will stand, but how do we get a sorcery circle there? And then how do we conceal it?” Alice wondered.

“What if we made it very small?” Gilbert suggested.

Simon pushed his glasses up and considered this. “If the circle were very small, then he might tumble back out of it when the magic took hold. Besides, this is a detailed circle and I’m going to have to do this in chalk. I don’t think I could manage to make it as small as a dinner plate. And even that would be obvious.”

“Perhaps you could draw it, and then we could put a bit of carpet over it?” Alice said, thinking out loud.

“That’s a possibility. Although, I can’t imagine how I could draw the circle without someone noticing. There are so many people around, and it is very hard to conceal oneself on an empty public stage.”

“Just as well,” she said. “We have no carpet, and no money to buy one.”

“I know!” Simon shouted so loud that a few bystanders looked their way. Lowering his voice, he continued, “What if I could write it on the underside of the platform?”

Alice blinked, “It will still work?”

“I will have to mirror everything, but yes. The ceiling will be very low. I suppose I’ll have to draw the circle while on my back, with the wood just a handbreadth from my nose.”

“Those are not ideal conditions for sorcery,” Alice managed.

“Yet still far better than I’m used to. I think I can manage it.”

They had Gilbert move away, lest his large frame attract attention. Then Alice approached the workmen and began asking them about their project. The men were glad for the distraction. While their eyes were on her, Simon slipped around to the back of the stage and crawled under it.

Alice pretended to tour the area, shooting occasional nervous glances over to the stage. It was dark underneath, and the supports mostly concealed him, but occasionally she could see his movements.

“Who are you? Come out of there!” shouted one of the men.

Alice turned to look, and saw Simon’s head poke into view. He was quickly hauled into the open and the men gathered around him.

“Look, this one thinks he’s Guy Fawkes. What were you up to under there?”

“Just writing, sir,” Simon said sheepishly.

“Writing?” the man shouted incredulously. “Here, have a look under there and see what he’s been up to,” the man said to the others.

They got down on their hands and knees and inspected under the stage, but none of them discovered anything suspicious. After slapping him around and searching his pockets, they sent Simon away with a warning not to come back.

Simon left the clearing, straightening his suit and beating his hat back into shape. “I’m glad they didn’t manage to break my spectacles,” he said when he reached Gilbert and Alice.

“Did you complete the circle?” Alice asked.

“Yes. It was a little challenging, but I managed.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone who would call drawing a large spell from memory, inverted, in a dark and confined space, as a ‘little challenging’.”

“I made it as large as I could manage, in the center of the platform and towards the front. I can’t imagine he’ll fail to step into it,” Simon said with rare confidence.

They began making their way back to the doss-house. They didn’t have any particular reason to go back there. It was too dark and smelly to spend time inside, but it was the closest thing they had to a home.

“So we wait for him to enter the thing, and then what?” Gilbert asked on the way.

“Once the circle breaks the connection between the body and the vigor, it must be gathered by holding this crystal over the body.” Simon pulled out the crystal that he always wore around his neck hand showed it to his companions. “This contained Sophie’s vigor before it was used to revive Gilbert, and can just as easily hold the vigor that Mordaunt is using.”

“Leopold’s vigor,” Alice said.

“So you said,” replied Simon.

"Even once the Dead King is down, he will still be guarded. His supporters will likely rush to his aid. I suppose I should gather the vigor,” Gilbert held out his hand to receive the crystal.

Alice laughed, “If you tried, you would just collapse on top of him, remember? But you’re right, there may be fighting on the stage. We don’t know which way the crowd will go, or if they will get involved at all.”

“Miss White?”

Alice turned, and saw a group of dirty, tired British soldiers standing beside a stable. One of them stepped forward and gave a nervous smile.

“Private Archer!” she exclaimed.

“Ma’am. Glad to see you’re still whole, given the recent troubles,” he glanced nervously at Gilbert as he said this.

“And I’m glad you’re still standing. We lost a great number of men when we lost Buckingham.”

“When I was dumped back into regular service, they assigned me to take care of the horses. I tried to tell them I’m a specialist, but nobody seemed interested.”

“I see. And what of your commanders… are they?” her voice trailed off, and she looked sideways at the other soldiers.

Archer nodded knowingly as he replied, “I take your meaning, Miss White. Not to worry. All of us here are loyal to the Queen.” The other men nodded in assent, and Archer lowered his voice. “See, I don’t know about any of our commanders. Nobody knows what side anyone else is on. We’ve had three different officers show up in the last day or so, all of them giving us different orders about who should and shouldn’t be getting horses. We make excuses or tell them the horses are reserved by people of higher rank, but that’s not going to last forever. Sooner or later people are going to start siding with the winners, and we’re going to have to fall in line or desert.”