Page 4 of The Salted Sceptre
Two
Not only had the police cordoned off the whole of Charlotte Square, they’d also evacuated all the residents. We had to present ourselves to four different officers and produce identification three separate times to gain access to the area, and even then we couldn’t get close to the building. Nobody could. There was an inner cordon that prevented anyone from going near the Royal Elvish Institute. Not that anyone wanted to get close.
From thirty metres away, standing close to a large bronze statue of Prince Albert on a horse, I saw a group of sorcerers that included Gordon Mackenzie and Boonder. Their familiar faces eased my tension slightly. There were also a huddle of witches, a few heavily armed police officers and a sprinkling of highly placed elves. Everyone else must have been ejected from the area long before our arrival.
The building looked considerably worse than it had in the photo. Presumably the police had set up the spotlights to illuminate its façade, but I truly wished they hadn’t bothered because they made the wet blood glisten in a sickening fashion. The smell didn’t help, either. I’d never had the dubious pleasureof visiting an abattoir and if they smelled anything like this, I’d make sure I never did.
I stared at the huge red letters that spelled out my name. I’d known that sooner or later Athair would come for me but I’d hoped to have more time – and I’d never imagined that his calling card would look anything like this.
Hugo stepped closer to me and wrapped his arm supportively around my waist. The brownies stayed on my shoulder, even though Otis was rigid with fright. Miriam, Rizwan and Becky also remained close. Their proximity meant a great deal and, if I were honest, it stopped me running away to dive under my duvet and pretend none of this was happening.
‘Daddy Dearest is a showy bastard,’ I muttered in a deliberate display of defiance. I turned to Sir Nigel who was approaching with a woman. She was human, barely five feet tall, with plump cheeks that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a bucolic painting of a country farmhouse. Despite her wholesome physical appearance, she exuded authority.
‘Thank you for coming so quickly,’ Sir Nigel said, as if there had been any real choice in the matter. ‘Lady Daisy, Lord Pemberville, this is Detective Inspector O’Hagan. Don’t let her humanity fool you. She’s tough as nails and highly experienced in dealing with issues involving foul magic.’
O’Hagan dropped into a perfunctory, albeit practiced, curtsey and my eyes narrowed. She was clearly used to dealing with high elves who demanded obvious shows of deference, but I wasn’t one of them. Her gesture embarrassed me and made me feel out of place.
‘Call me Daisy,’ I said. ‘The title is more of a surprise to me than it is to anyone else here. And if you curtsey again, I’ll think I’ve time travelled to the Regency period.’
O’Hagan raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes, I was told that you’d done some time travelling. I was also told that I’d like you. I’m beginning to think my informants were correct.’
Hester flicked my earlobe. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ she hissed. ‘You should learn to accept curtseys as your due.’
‘I’ll do that when you start curtseying to me,’ I retorted.
‘Me?’ She was aghast. ‘Curtsey toyou?’
Hugo leaned into my other ear. ‘I’ll curtsey to you whenever you like, Daisy.’
I smiled. Both of them knew exactly how to make me feel better, even if O’Hagan was now looking at us as if we were bonkers. I took advantage of my temporarily improved state of mind and gestured towards the bloodied Royal Elvish Institute. ‘Is it human blood?’ I asked.
I caught a flicker of relief in O’Hagan’s sharp eyes before it was replaced with steely professionalism. She was likely glad that I wasn’t collapsing in hysterics – or pleased I wasn’t swallowing illegal drugs right in front of her and complicating the situation even further. Given how much she already knew about me, there was little doubt that she was aware of my history as an addict.
I wondered if my hands were about to start shaking; I shoved them in my pockets just in case.
‘I’m afraid so,’ O’Hagan said. ‘We’ve only conducted preliminary testing with our on-site toolkit, but there appears to be blood from at least six different people.’ That was hardly surprising given how much of it was covering the building. I wondered who those people were and if they were now dead; it seemed likely.
‘How did the blood get there?’ Miriam asked.
‘The sorcerers have confirmed that it was through magical means. The perpetrator didn’t climb up the side of the building and daub the letters himself.’ O’Hagan didn’t take her eyes fromme. ‘If we assume that it’s you who is being addressed, do you have any idea who might have done this?’
She knew who’d done it, everyone did, but she wanted to hear it from me and to gauge my reaction at the same time. ‘My father,’ I bit out. ‘The fiend called Athair.’ I paused, wondering if she knew what fiends were because most people, even police officers, didn’t. When she didn’t blink, I knew that she was already privy to that particular unsavoury secret.
‘Do you know what he wants?’ O’Hagan asked.
I grimaced. ‘My attention.’
‘Mmm.’ She glanced upwards. ‘I’d say he’s achieved that.’ She wasn’t wrong. ‘Unfortunately,’ O’Hagan continued, ‘because he is a fiend, I don’t have the authority or the ability to bring him to justice. The Royal Elvish Institute holds sway here.’
Rather than dismay, I felt relief. I had no doubt that Detective Inspector O’Hagan was an accomplished, dedicated and experienced officer but subduing fiends was beyond the capability of any human police officer – or police force. And Athair was the most powerful fiend this country had seen for generations.
‘If you see Athair,’ I told her, ‘the best thing you can do is run.’
Her eyes widened a fraction. I wasn’t trying to scare her, I was trying to warn her. She nodded and moved away to speak to another group of bystanders.
Sir Nigel fixed Hugo and me with a morose look. ‘The Royal Elvish Institute cannot allow this to stand,’ he said. His skin was pale and, for perhaps the first time ever, his handlebar moustache appeared faintly askew with several whiskers out of place. ‘The board has already convened. They’re sending a contingent of witches after Athair to banish the bastard from this realm once and for all.’
I stiffened. ‘I’m not convinced that’s a good idea. I’m not sure that any number of witches, no matter how skilled they are, will be able to banish him.’
