Page 50 of Fiendish Delights
I grinned back before looking over to where Hugo had been. He was no longer there. ‘I need to speak to Hugo,’ I said. ‘And you – all of the Primes, in fact. I have an idea about what to do next to find the mythical treasure.’
‘Can’t it wait until after the party?’
My grin widened. ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘it can’t.’
It took longer than I’d anticipated to round up everyone and get them away from the partying, food and alcohol. ‘I’ve cleared the library on the second floor,’ Rizwan said. ‘It’s got what you need.’
Hugo frowned. Everyone else seemed interested. ‘Lead the way!’ Miriam burbled, raising her glass. ‘We should do more treasure hunting with champagne in our hands. It’s much more fun.’
We trooped up the stairs past numerous paintings and display cabinets. I’d thought that the ground floor of the Royal Elvish Institute was swanky, but it was even grander once you went up a flight or two. I smirked; maybe I should swipe some silver after all.
‘Thinking about Alan D’Engle?’ Hugo enquired, catching my expression.
In a way. I shrugged.
‘A party crammed full of guests and the first person you find to talk to is a spider’s silk user,’ he said.
‘How do you know he was the firstperson I spoke to?’
His voice dropped to a murmur. ‘I knew you were here the moment you entered the room.’
‘Lord Pemberville!’ A waiter came scurrying up the stairs after us. ‘Here you go. Exactly as you requested.’ He bowed before holding out a silver tray: in its centre was a silver bowl, a small spoon and a few scoops of ice cream. My mouth went dry.
‘Wonderful.’ Hugo took the bowl. ‘Thank you so much.’
Miriam peered at him. ‘Is that chocolate ice cream?’ she asked. ‘In December?’
Hugo dipped his little finger into the bowl and licked it slowly ‘Not only is it chocolate ice cream, it’s got sprinkles.’ He didn’t look at me – he didn’t have to. ‘There’s plenty more where this came from. You’re welcome to order some for yourselves.’
I cleared my throat. ‘Do they have vanilla?’
Hugo finally looked at me. ‘Tragically, no.’ He raised a mocking eyebrow.
I pinned my mouth shut and marched faster up the stairs. ‘Is there a rush, Daisy?’ he called out.
I straightened my shoulders and replied without turning my head, ‘Yes. So toss that ice cream and get a move on.’
His laughter drifted after me. I had no idea what everyone else was thinking about our exchange – I was too chicken to check.
Chapter
Sixteen
Despite Rizwan’s attempts to clear the room, a bickering couple were standing in the centre throwing both books and insults at each other. The holiday season often brought out the worst in people.
Miriam, who was by far the most calming influence in our group, and Joe, one of the research team, managed to defuse the situation before gently escorting them outside.
I strolled to the fireplace in the corner, dumped my bag onto a table and waved at the others to join me. Once everyone had assembled – with more than a few inebriated shuffles and grins – I laid out my theory.
‘From what I saw on Mud McAlpine’s scroll, we know there’s a possible connection to the Welsh poet Dafydd ap Gwillem. We’ve got the three words that roughly translate as bonfire, twig and commence.’
Becky raised her glass in a mock toast. ‘And there’s that scribble of the yew tree.’
I nodded. ‘We didn’t have much luck at Dafydd ap Gwillem’s supposed burial site but it’s still the most likely location because of the tree and the other clues.’
Slim squinted. ‘But there’s nothing there – nothing that we could find anyway.’
‘Although there might be some ancient magic concealing what’s buried there,’ Hugo conceded. ‘It would make sense.’
