Page 50 of Gates of Tartarus

“That was Kailani? What did she do? How?”

“We’re not quite sure.”

“Huh.” I’m filled with a mix of emotions as the feed cuts out – glee at what I’ve just seen threaded through with anger and disgust when I think of the real man beneath the mask. Time to find him again, I think. Alright. I close my eyes.

It takes ages, and long deep breaths as I clutch the crystal, but I manage eventually to quiet my mind and turn my consciousness inwards. My body “hums”, and I step through the vibrations to search the shadows, trying to “lock” onto him, onto his mental signature; and all of a sudden, he comes into view. He’s in an office, and sunshine is streaming through the windows. It looks like a nice day in Seattle, and I give a bitter little laugh that the criminals are enjoying such fine weather, while it’s cold and mizzling in London. But then I reflect that Kailani and her team are also benefiting, and I perk up.

Tennireef’s talking to an aide, about some financing issue or other, and Jesus wept, it’s boring. I keep hoping that the aide will leave, and Tennireef will pull out a white cat from under his desk and call Rhea to discuss their plans for global domination: “What are we going to do tonight, Brain? The same thing we do every night, Pinky – try to take over the world!” Sadly, the conversation drags on, and maybe it’s creeping ennui, but the vision starts to flicker at the edges, like a badly tuned TV. I finally give up and slide out.

Seef only nods and says “good” when I tell him, but I can sense he’s pleased that I’ve managed to see Tennireef, despite not learning any useful information. I’m still going to have the booster, as we’ve decided the potential benefits outweigh the risks, but the brief vision is encouraging. Seef really must be happier, because he goes easier on me in our training session in the gym, and I don’t leave feeling like my limbs have been jellified. Per protocol, he takes me home, over my protests, which is more than a little awkward, but I’m not wriggling out of a bodyguard, not with the recent attacks on Elizabeth and Kailani. I spend the entire Tube ride covertly studying him: the stern mouth, the Grecian nose, the sapphire-blue eyes. He smells like storms and summer rain, and I’m irritated with myself for noticing.

???

That evening, I decide to have some Maela time and curl up in the library with a good book. I’ve changed into my pajamas, thick socks, and a wooly sweater, for propriety’s sake, and made myself a hot cider. All that’s missing is a fire. I consider it but then decide that the throw on the sofa will keep me warm enough, and I burrow in. Strangely enough, I find I’m missing the Romantic poets, so I’ve grabbed an anthology off one of the dark-paneled shelves lining the walls. “Byron and Shelley and Keats,” I quote, as I open up the book, “were a trio of Lyrical treats. / The forehead of Shelley was cluttered with curls, / And Keats never was a descendant of earls, / And Byron walked out with a number of girls, / But it didn't impair the poetical feats / Of Byron and Shelley, / Of Byron and Shelley, / Of Byron and Shelley and Keats.” Ha ha! I suppose I really should be reading up some more about precognition, but that would feel too much like work.

I’m getting stuck intoThe Eve of St Agneswhen my mobile rings. Thinking it’s my mother, I answer, “Oui, allo?”

“Allo, Maela,” Elizabeth’s cool, amused tones dance over the line.

“Elizabeth! How are you?” I don’t know why, but I actually sit up straight on the sofa, fumbling to set myself to rights, as if the headmistress has just caught me in a misdemeanor.

“I’ve had a day of too much testosterone, that’s how. If Fallon hadn’t canceled my evening engagements, I may have committed grievous bodily harm.”

I giggle: “Poor you! But it’s worth it, right?”

Her voice warms. “Oh yes, it’s worth it. It gives me purpose. But enough about me! How are you?”

“Oh, fine. Fine. Had a bit of a breakthrough today, actually.”

“Oh yes?”

“Well, you know that Kailani and her team are interested in James Tennireef?” According to the briefing notes, Elizabeth had tried to help Kailani do a read on him at a benefit and had shared what information Gaia had on him, confirming that he was indeed a menacing, smarmy sleaze.

“Mmm. It seems that I made the rather catastrophic error of employing him for a time, although he’s still a donor,” she says ruefully. “I can’t say that sits well with me, but it might raise flags if I suddenly start refusing checks.”

“Well, I finally managed to see him today.”

“You… saw… Tennireef? James Tennireef?” She sounds a little faint.

“The one and only.”

“Maela, do you realize what some people would pay to have that sort of confidential information on a US senator? And one who is likely to be president in the next few years?” I can almost see her shaking her head.

“Well, I only saw him for a few minutes, really, before the vision faded. I’m definitely going to get that booster. I’ve only seen him in ‘real life’, so to speak, through videos. Not like Magda with Ratko.”

“Hmm. So, if you saw him with someone you’d already met, that might, what? Prime the visions?”

“That’s the theory.”

There’s a pause, and then Elizabeth says, thoughtfully, “Perhaps I could help with that. But a meeting would have to wait, I’m afraid. I happen to know he’s on his way to D.C. for some finance-committee business or other. His secretary made a point of telling Fallon when she called to thank him for his latest donation.”

“Damn, Emlyn and Seef aren’t going to like that. We’ve already lost Magda to the Caribbean.” Just thinking about their reaction to the news that we’re all going to be very well-briefed on the US next finance bill makes me glum.

“Ah yes, the delectable duo,” Elizabeth says dryly, with just a hint of purr. “Well, they’ll just have to learn that patience is a virtue. But what do you mean ‘lost Magda to the Caribbean’?”

I explain that Magda appears to have decamped to sunnier climes. “If Tennireef behaves himself, we’re at a bit of a dead end. I’ve only seen him, Ratko, and Magda. Ratko’s dead, and Magda’s drinking Mai Tais.” I sigh.

“I’m sure an opportunity will come up. Master manipulators like James Tennireef don’t change their spots.”