I suppressed a grin. ‘Hey, if you want manners, then you’ve got manners.’ I dipped into a low curtsey, just as the door opened and a tired-looking witch peered out. ‘The Ipsissimus will see you now.’
Winter pushed off the wall. ‘Excellent.’ He walked in through the open door. ‘Come on, Ms Wilde.’
I coughed. ‘I need a bit of help.’ I was still in the curtsey. Unfortunately I’d over-estimated how low I could go without toppling over or requiring a hand up. I blamed the gym session yesterday; my muscles were still in agony.
Winter looked as if he were trying very hard not to laugh.
The other witch offered his hand. I grabbed it gratefully. ‘Note to self,’ I muttered. ‘Perform fewer acts of obeisance.’
‘This is why you need to get fit.’ Winter smirked and headed in. I glared at his back. Yeah, maybe he had a point. But that didn’t mean I had to like it.
***
This time around, we weren’t in the grand meeting room but in the Ipsissimus’s study. I could only imagine that Winter had suggested this meeting should be conducted in private so that we didn’t accuse him of stealing from his own Order in front of all his minions. He was seated behind a grand desk, with a delicate china teacup in front of him. There was also a toweringly large pile of paper. Somehow, I didn’t think it would be fun to have his job.
Winter and I took our places in front of the desk. I opened my mouth to speak but received a hard jab in my ribs and an irritated glare. Miming a zip, I closed my mouth once more. Yeah, yeah. Winter could do all the talking if he was that desperate.
The Ipsissimus took off his half-moon spectacles and looked at us. ‘So,’ he said, ‘what can I do for you?’
‘First of all,’ Winter began, ‘thank you very much for coming in at this early hour to talk to us.’
The Ipsissimus gestured at the paper in front of him. ‘It’s no trouble. I might as well come in early and make a start on this lot.’ He smiled pleasantly, although there was a hard questioning expression in his eyes. ‘Have you made any headway with the theft of the sceptre?’
‘We have made some progress,’ Winter answered. ‘There’s nothing concrete to report yet but I’ll write up our findings this evening to keep you abreast.’
The Ipsissimus inclined his head. ‘Excellent. And how are things working out between the two of you? Ms Wilde?’
I didn’t say a word. Winter jabbed me in the ribs again. ‘Oh? I’m allowed to talk now?’ I asked. I beamed. ‘Things are just peachy. Adeptus Exemptus Winter is an absolute joy to work with. He’s a little ray of sunshine in my otherwise grey and dull life.’
I could feel the man in question getting ready to throw me out of the room. The Ipsissimus merely smiled again, as if oblivious to my sarcasm. ‘I’m thrilled to hear it. We are very proud to have him in our ranks.’
‘Thank you,’ Winter murmured before I could leap in and say anything else to embarrass him. He paused. ‘I am here to ask about the warding spell you had in place over the sceptre. It had degraded quite badly.’
The Ipsissimus grimaced. ‘So I’ve heard. I can only imagine that I didn’t reset it properly after last year’s ceremonies. It was my error.’
I thought Winter would leave it at that but now that I’d called the Ipsissimus’s integrity into question, he was going to prove that he’d examined every possibility. ‘Is that typical?’ he asked.
The Ipsissimus let out a short laugh. ‘I certainly hope not. I admit, however, that I pay less attention to such spells than I should. Generally speaking, the belief that strong wards are in place is enough to deter sticky fingers.’
Winter nodded. ‘And there were still strong wards in place on the ground floor. It must have been an incredibly powerful witch who breached them to get the sceptre.’
‘Yes. I’m told also that there are no apparent weaknesses. It’s very unusual to pass through a ward in that manner and leave it untouched. Among other things, the second ward requires crushed cypress leaves picked at midnight on midsummer’s day. Those are not easy to obtain.’
‘Or to use,’ Winter pointed out.
‘Indeed.’ The Ipsissimus appeared amused. ‘So I imagine your list of potential suspects are high Level witches.’
‘We are looking at Third Level only,’ Winter agreed.
The Order Head took a sip of his tea. ‘On the night in question, I was attending a soireé at number ten. The Prime Minister wanted advice on introducing magic to border controls.’
Winter threw me a look of triumph. He had a point; I reckoned that was a pretty rock-solid alibi. I’d never really believed the Ipsissimus nicked his own sceptre but this had been kind of fun. And it had given me a good reason to avoid another sweat-inducing session with the weights and treadmills.
‘I will ensure that every Third Level witch clears their schedule in order to meet with you and discuss their movements,’ the Ipsissimus said. ‘The sceptre might only be ceremonial but it does have value and it is certainly worrying that it’s gone missing. I’ve instructed every ward to be reset this afternoon. It will take time, effort and energy but it will be worth it. We cannot have more items walking out of high-security buildings.’
‘That is wise,’ Winter said. ‘I admit that I’m very concerned that someone could achieve this, even if the display cabinet’s ward was no longer effective.’
The Ipsissimus knitted his fingers together. ‘Do you think that the sceptre is recoverable? It will be a blow to the Order if we cannot find it intact.’
Winter heaved a sigh. ‘Frankly, I have no idea. It’s not even clear why someone would take it because it has no real power beyond the ceremonial. The trouble and effort they have gone to is extraordinary. Whoever is responsible, they must have had good reason to go to such lengths.’
I understood that the sceptre was intrinsically valuable, considering it was made of gold and encrusted with jewels, but this all seemed ridiculous to me. I thought about saying something but I had my orders.
At my side, Winter frowned and began to scratch at his arm. The Ipsissimus didn’t notice. He had embarked on a long speech about the merits or otherwise of the other library warding spells. ‘The fact that there was no blood spilt or that these thieves managed to circumnavigate…’ He paused mid-sentence and glanced at Winter, who had now yanked up his sleeve to stare at his mottled skin. ‘Is something the matter?’
Winter cursed. ‘An allergic reaction perhaps.’
The Ipsissimus tutted. ‘That’s no allergy.’ He swung his gaze to me. I smiled meekly in return. ‘What is it, Ms Wilde? The binding is making its presence known and I can only assume that it is as a result of you.’
Winter turned at glared at me. I held up my hands. ‘Hey!’ I protested. ‘I’ve not done anything. In fact, I’m doing as I’ve been told and staying quiet.’
‘The nature of the binding requires that you work in tandem with Adeptus Winter. It will not permit you to stay silent when you have a salient point to make.’
Well, well, well. So the binding worked both ways.
‘Out with it,’ Winter growled.
I raised my shoulders. ‘Make your mind up, buddy.’ I tilted up my chin. ‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? The amount of effort needed to remove the sceptre negates any actual value it could possible have.’
‘What’s your point?’
I glanced at Winter. ‘Easy. The sceptre hasn’t yet left the building. It’s still there.’
‘Don’t be idiotic. It was removed from the case. Maidmont and the other librarians would have noticed if it was simply shoved behind a shelf somewhere.’ His voice hardened. ‘Not everyone is as lazy as you are.’
‘It’s not about laziness.’ Well, actually it was. ‘It’s about what makes sense. Even a Third Level witch would need to sleep for several days after performing the kind of spells you’re talking about. Hence, the sceptre must still be in building.’
Winter gritted his teeth. ‘It cannot still be in the building. That
’s impossible.’
‘It’s a big place,’ I argued. ‘It could have been hidden away anywhere.’
‘To what end?’
I was getting irritated. I didn’t have all the answers. ‘How the hell should I know?’
The Ipsissimus cleared his throat. ‘Enough.’ Winter and I fell silent. ‘I can see that your partnership is going to prove … interesting.’ Winter let out a snort of derision. ‘Ms Wilde does make a good point. I suggest that you return to the library and scour it for any sign of the sceptre. It’s possible that what we are looking at is nothing more than a First Level prank.’
Arse. ‘The librarians know the area best,’ I suggested. ‘They should look for it.’
‘This was your idea, Ms Wilde. Take ownership.’
I sniffed. ‘I’m not sure that’s entirely necessary…’
‘Deal with it.’
So much for Mr Nice Ipsissimus. Winter had stopped scratching and his skin had returned to its natural tanned colour. Next time I should really keep my bright ideas to myself.
Chapter Ten
‘This is stupid,’ I grumbled to Winter as I came out of the last study carrel on the third floor. ‘I don’t know where all the library hidey-holes are.’
‘Quit complaining.’
‘I’ve got sore feet.’ I pulled up a chair and sank into it while he examined a bookshelf, apparently on the off-chance that the metre-long sceptre was hiding behind a volume of ancient witch poetry.
‘You need to check the bathrooms,’ he told me.
‘I think someone would have noticed by now if the sceptre had been hidden in a loo stall. Have you seen how much coffee this lot drink?’ I waved a hand at the studious-looking witches seated near us.
Winter turned. His eyes drifted down to my legs and I realised that the red robe had sneaked its way upward, revealing my lace-edged pyjamas underneath. I sprang to my feet before remembering, through a spasm of pain, that my body still ached all over from yesterday. I grimaced.
‘Are you wearing your pyjamas? Did you not bother getting dressed this morning?’
I folded my arms. ‘Does it matter?’
Winter heaved a sigh as if the woes of the world lay across his broad shoulders. ‘I suppose not.’
He walked away from me, heading towards the small room where the Cypher Manuscripts were kept. He really was leaving no stone unturned. ‘Stay there,’ he snapped.
Suited me. I didn’t want to taint the ancient magical archives with my presence anyway. I closed my eyes. A moment or two later, Winter reappeared. ‘The sceptre’s not there.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked. ‘Maybe you should double check.’
I opened an eye and peeked at him. He was staring at me with undisguised exasperation. ‘Come on. There’s still the basement to go through.’
Whoopdeedo. I heaved myself up and trailed after him, wishing I were just about anywhere else in the world. At least when I was driving the taxi I got to sit around for most of the day instead of just the odd minute or two.
We made our way downstairs, pausing at an unassuming door on the ground floor. Winter rattled the doorknob. When it appeared to be stuck, he shoved his shoulder against the door to force it open. I glanced down and realised I was standing on a crack in the marble floor. I jumped to the side and let out a hiss. Damn it.
The door finally banged open and I peered around Winter into the darkness beyond. ‘Maybe we should take a break first,’ I suggested. ‘Tea and tiffin.’ Suddenly I felt a prickle across the back of my neck and half-turned. Standing on the other side of the room was Tarquin, his dark eyes fixed on me. ‘Forget I said that,’ I muttered. ‘Bring on the basement!’
‘What on earth are you wittering about?’ Winter asked.
‘Nothing.’ I nudged him. ‘Come on. Let’s investigate!’
‘Sometimes, Ms Wilde, I wonder whether you are entirely there. You don’t seem able to concentrate on any one thing for more than a minute.’
‘It’s because my mind is filled with so many great and important matters,’ I informed him airily.
Winter snorted. ‘Like tea and tiffin?’
Ah. So he had heard me. ‘Let’s just get this over and done with.’
The corner of his mouth crooked up. ‘Your wish is my command.’
If only.
The staircase leading down was narrow, as you’d expect from somewhere heading into a dingy dungeon type of place. I half expected to be attacked by vampire bats or giant cobwebs. The overhead light buzzed annoyingly and the steps were so uneven that I almost tripped and collided with Winter’s back. There wasn’t a soul, animal or human, in sight.
After what seemed like an age, we reached the foot of the staircase. The space in front of us was cavernous, filled with endless stone archways. There were also a lot of old boxes and filing cabinets. From where I was standing, I counted dozens of the darn things. We’d be here forever.
‘You’re an Adeptus Exemptus,’ I said.
‘Yes.’
‘So you must have a few runes up your sleeve for tracking objects. Can’t you do something so we can be out of here by next century?’ I was sure I’d heard of such spells; if only I’d bothered to seek them out. But then, why go to such trouble when Adeptus Exemptus Winter could do it for me?
‘If such spells existed and were reliable,’ Winter answered, ‘don’t you think I would have already tried them to find the sceptre?’
I shrugged. ‘Maybe they only have limited reach. Surely you know something that will be successful in an enclosed space like this.’
‘There are runes which could work. But only around thirty per cent of the time.’ His tone was brisk and brooked no nonsense but I wasn’t ready to give in yet. Where magic was involved, there is always an easier way.
‘Aw, Winter baby,’ I coaxed. ‘It’s worth a shot. Even if only to flex your magical muscles and show me what you’re really made of.’
‘Winter … baby?’
I couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed or amused. ‘Well, you keep telling me to stop calling you Adeptus Exemptus.’
He stepped towards me until he was barely inches away. ‘And,’ he said in a low voice, ‘if you call me baby, what should I call you?’
I considered. ‘Boss would work.’
‘Not happening.’ He leant closer. ‘How about honey?’
I met his eyes. I felt surprisingly hot and bothered. ‘Are you flirting with me?’
‘Trust me, Ivy. When I flirt with you, you’ll know all about it.’
I couldn’t help wondering whether that was a threat or a promise. I licked my lips. ‘Those runes…’
He moved back, the mention of work making him return immediately to his usual business-like self. ‘I suppose they’re worth a try.’ He glanced at me sideways. ‘Watch carefully. You might learn something.’
I fixed my gaze on his hands. He raised them, using not one but both to sketch out the rune. This was complex stuff indeed. No wonder he was held in such high regard. Not that I was going to let him know I was impressed. ‘Nothing’s happened,’ I remarked.
Winter rolled his eyes. ‘The spell only works for me.’ He paused. ‘But then you knew that, didn’t you?’
I grinned.
He walked forward, swinging his head from side to side as he passed each stack of boxes. I had a fairly good idea how this would go down. Nothing would register and we’d still have to search the place from top to bottom. All the same, I ambled along behind him, taking the opportunity for some momentary peace and quiet to relax.
About halfway along, Winter halted, his back ramrod straight. It was so unexpected and I was so lost in the swirl of my own chaotic thoughts that I didn’t notice until I was almost past him. ‘What is it?’
He swivelled round to his left where a shabby pile of card boxes lay, stacked in an untidy heap. It was a wonder they’d not toppled over.
‘No way,’ I breathed. ‘Was I actually right?’ I bellowed a laugh. ‘Is the s
ceptre really here?’ I started bopping around. ‘The non-Order witch saves the Order’s hide. Who’s the boss now? Eh? Eh?’
‘Shut up.’
I supposed I wasn’t acting like a particularly gracious winner but it still felt good. I stopped talking but I was still bouncing.
Winter strode over to the boxes and started pulling them off the pile, one after the other. After the first four or five, he turned and glared at me. ‘I suppose it would be too much to ask for a little help?’
‘As you’ve already said, the spell doesn’t work for me. I have no way of knowing which box the sceptre is hiding in. So it’s probably better if you do the heavy lifting.’
Even from several feet away, I could see Winter grit his teeth. ‘Except,’ he muttered, ‘I don’t think it’s in any of the boxes.’
I eyed the pile. ‘It’s underneath?’ No wonder the stack resembled the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Although you had to wonder at the First Level witches who would go to such lengths for a prank. Surely they’d have made their point if they’d simply left the stupid thing on the top?
‘Just get over here.’
I took my time shuffling over. Winter was picking up and discarding boxes so quickly, he already had a sheen of sweat across his brow. I reached out and placed my hand on his arm. ‘Allow me,’ I said kindly. I drew the same rune I’d used yesterday in the gym that made all the boxes, regardless of their size or weight, feel as light as air. Winter reached for another one and almost fell backwards at its unexpected lightness.
‘What did you do?’ he asked.
‘Just a little spell I picked up during my time out in the wilderness,’ I said smugly. I grabbed a box and lifted it up, using only the tip of my index finger. I pretended to groan and strain.
‘You did this yesterday, didn’t you? You had the same expression on your face when you were lifting weights.’
Uh oh. ‘Nooooo.’ I shook my head. ‘I wouldn’t do such a thing.’ I tossed the box to one side, put my hands behind my back and began to whistle, avoiding Winter’s glare.