Page 41 of Harmonic Pleasure (Mysterious Arts #6)

LONDON ON MONDAY MORNING

“ T here you are, then.” Bill had just been looking at his watch. “Cutting things tight.”

“Thanks for waiting. Made a difference.” Farran was more than a little out of breath, but it also wasn’t a good idea to explain exactly what they had with them. “How do we go about getting back up?”

That, of course, involved a rather gruelling bit of walking along the flat into a different tunnel, then climbing stairs, steep enough they had to stop three flights up. Farran felt something rumble, and he blinked.

“That’s the trains.” Frankie shrugged. “It’s no bother here, but you can feel them better. Even if there’s none down on that line now.”

Farran nodded, focusing on taking a deep breath and then another.

Another two flights, another two, and they were out at the street level.

He cleared his throat, rummaging for the last bit of the payment, passing it over in a somewhat smudged envelope.

“Is there a cafe nearby that wouldn’t mind us taking a table for a bit until the office is open?

” It had taken them a while to get to the surface. The city was waking up properly.

Frankie gave them directions to one up near the Monument Tube stop, the sort of place that didn’t care much who turned up so long as they paid.

Farran couldn’t tell if it was actually open all night or if it opened early to give cabbies and delivery men and whoever else a place to get something.

There was a small table open by one window.

Farran sorted out strong tea and some slightly dubious toast and eggs.

They tasted grand, though maybe that was the combination of their night’s exertions.

The jam was excellent as well, surprisingly so.

“What do we do now?”

“You’ve work.” Vega hadn’t said much in their retreat from the depths. He’d thought it was partly from the exertion, but looking at her now, Farran worried it wasn’t just that.

“I took the day off, so not today. Though I was thinking more about sleep than anything else.”

“Probably, I ought to go see my family. Now, soon. I mean, not at six in the morning. We are not morning people, most any of us. Unless it’s the sort of morning that’s about having stayed up all night first.”

Farran tilted his head. “Astronomers.”

“Exactly. How far does your knowledge go? No, wait, that’s a question for later. You’re not dressed to come with me, really.” She looked him up and down. “I’m not either, but I’ve got clothes in my room there.”

They were, honestly, both more than a bit grubby.

Soot got everywhere, of course, and there was plenty of that from coal fires, even if the Tube was electric.

And there’d been plenty of dust in the rooms they’d gone through, as well.

“So, we could go back to our respective places, wash up, and meet to go out to your family. If you wanted me there. I’d understand if you didn’t, not right away, anyway. ”

Vega looked down at her hands. “I want you there, and I’m not sure how it’d go, both.” She didn’t look up, and Farran tried to decide what she meant by it. First, he pushed the rest of the jam closer to her. She still had some toast left.

Then he swallowed, before asking, “Do you think they’ll be difficult to me?”

“I think they won’t pay attention to you. Not properly. It’s only because of you that we’re— I mean. I couldn’t do it myself.” Now she looked up, and she was blinking away tears. Farran rummaged in his jacket, pulling out a clean handkerchief and handing it over.

“I couldn’t have done it without you. We did it together.

” Farran did his best to keep his voice firm and clear.

This was not actually what he’d been taught, or why he’d been taught it.

The kinds of speaking he had to do working for an auction house were entirely different, honestly.

“I’d not have been doing anything with it if you hadn’t asked.

” He shrugged. “I don’t know how to tally that up or appraise it. No tidy checklists of best practices.”

The way he put the last of it made her giggle, which was all to the good. She blew her nose on the handkerchief. “All right. So we finish breakfast, we go back to our own places, and we meet at the portal at, what? Ten?”

“Is ten reasonable for your people? Would eleven be better, or does that look like we’re hoping to get them to feed us lunch?” He got another little laugh out of her, and Farran was very pleased with that.

“Oh, if you come, we’re not getting out of there without a meal. And also you talking to at least three aunts. Senior aunts. Maybe more.” Vega leaned forward, considering him. “Treat them like you did Vivian when you started? Though she’s younger than they are.”

“One thing Ormulu teaches you early is how to be exceedingly polite to elderly women. Including the varieties I expect won’t be a problem here.

More money than sense, for example, or people who cling to the idea that a valuable thing stays the same kind of valuable, no matter how time passes.

” He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not like that.

There are fashions in auctions, like everything else.

Should I pick up some sort of hostess gift? Or whatever you call it here.”

Vega shook her head. “If it were purely a social call, maybe. Though we go in for books for that, and that’s not something you can just pick up anywhere. The right sort of book, obviously. Cut flowers are a bit, er.”

“Implying things about your local gardens and greenhouses?” Farran offered. He’d seen that one often enough, too. “Or allergies?”

“Mostly the first. Wine goes over well, but you’ve got to hit the right mark with it. A small decorative object, attentive to our interests— that means astronomy— doesn’t go badly. But again, I’m assuming you don’t have one tucked away in a wardrobe waiting for the occasion.”

“No.” Farran leaned back. “Though there are a few things coming through on sale I’ll keep an eye on.

Or there’s someone runs an antique shop in Trellech, and if I go in, he’ll be wondering what I’m up to for days.

That’s always fun.” He shrugged. “I’ve settled up the bill already. Shall we go find a cab or whatever?”

They were out on the street, at the corner near the Bank station entrance, when Vega saw something.

She tugged on Farran’s elbow, hard enough to almost pull him off balance.

They both saw the shape they’d been worried about.

Tall, long coat, hat. Then he turned, and Farran was sure it was Vandermeer. He was ten feet away, maybe.

“Tube?” Farran hissed it in Vega’s ear. There were too many people between them and the stop, though. More than enough to slow them down.

She shook her head abruptly. Then, inexorably, as if drawn like a magnet, Vandermeer spotted them and started moving toward them. He held out his hand. “There you are!”

Farran felt it before he saw anything. Vega’s hands had come up, spread out, a gesture of placation.

Or at least, that was what it was supposed to look like.

One of her hands flipped from palm up to palm down, as if she were smoothing something out or brushing something away, and she was humming.

He couldn’t hear words, just the pitches.

It wasn’t a song he knew, but it was like the singing she’d done with the well.

Vandermeer’s chin came up, as if a wave had pushed against him. The people around him didn’t react, other than the usual jostle and bustle of a city street. Vandermeer staggered back on one foot, then braced himself. “You, there!” His voice was clear and carried well.

Farran could at least play along in the right direction.

He looked around, as if Vandermeer had to mean someone else, and he caught Vega doing the same.

Both of them shrugged at each other, glanced at the people around them, joining in on the confusion.

Then he felt Vega’s hand rest on his wrist, squeeze, and disappear again. He didn’t know how to read that.

“You can’t fool me!” Vandermeer’s voice was even more clear.

“What are you shouting about, mate?” A voice from elsewhere in the crowd, nearer the corner.

“Some madman.” That was a woman, older and disapproving. Farran suspected he might not care to spend too much time with her in the ordinary course of things.

“I’m no madman! You can’t fool Tom O’Bedlam.” Vandermeer was trying to come closer to them, but the people between him and Vega and Farran weren’t making that any too easy. Farran heard Vega’s inhale, but she didn’t say anything, just tugged his arm.

“Oh, go sleep it off.” That had the gruff no-nonsense tone of someone who’d seen a lot of drunk men in the morning and had no patience for it.

“Tom O’Bedlam wants no drink!” There was more of a sharp pitch to it now, something urgent. He sang, then, the line from the song, Farran knew it well enough. He then started patting at his pockets, his trousers and his coat, both. “I don’t need this either!”

Vandermeer started pulling things out, a leather wallet, then a handful of coins.

He flung them into the crowd, one landing on a ledge above a storefront, others clinking as they hit the ground.

It just made things even more confused, some bending to grab a coin, others trying to sidle away from the increasing chaos.

Farran reached for Vega’s elbow, pressing to suggest they retreat back into the Tube.

Vandermeer kept shouting. “Am I not a bonny mad boy? Am I not bonny enough for you?” It sounded slightly ridiculous in an American accent, for all the words tumbled out of his mouth in rhythm like the song. “Come show me your treasure!”

Vega was gaping at him, as if caught in place, and Farran tugged. “We’d better leave. Look, there’s a constable, coming along.” A constable and two burly shopkeepers, moving steadily. “Now.”

Finally, she moved with him. The crowd between them and the entrance to the Tube had melted away, wanting none of the chaos and cacophony.

As Farran managed to nudge Vega back down into the depths, they could hear the last calls.

“I live by the air! I shall go bare, as all bonny Bedlam Boys do!” Farran could just see a bit of cloth, his coat, go up into the air, then they were away, back down into the dark.

They had to stop to buy tickets, of course, but by that point there were people queueing up behind them. Then they were on the platform, nervously watching the people coming in from the entrance. “Where are we going?”

“I think in the circumstances, Bedford Square.” Farran searched through what he knew of the Tube.

“If we get separated, get off at, um.” He tried to remember the station.

There was a little sniff of some commentary behind him.

Not in words, but Farran could tell by the sound he’d flubbed something, then glanced to find a map.

“Tottenham Court Road.” He usually came at the British Museum or the library from the portal, not the other way round.

“No, wait. British Museum.” The sniff that came from behind his shoulder sounded more approving this time, so that was probably right.

“I’ll look for you on the corner. It’s only a block or two. ”

Vega nodded, but she had her arm tightly through his at the moment, as if being separated would be a problem.

She’d mentioned hating the Tube, but it was only a few stops, and hopefully it’d be a help.

There were people piling on after them, a few of whom had also been in the crowd above, but there was no sign of Vandermeer.

There were no seats, of course. People were a bit packed in, it was now past eight.

They stood awkwardly, trying to keep other people between them and the windows on that side.

Farran kept glancing out, worried that they’d be followed, but then the doors closed and the train pulled away without further delay.

Farran let out a sigh of relief. A few moments later, so did Vega.

Of course, he couldn’t say anything about here.

Not with dozens of non-magical people within earshot, who were likely already wondering about the pair of rather dirty people wedged into the Tube.

At best, it’d sound like madness. At worse, he’d be pressing up against his oaths to the Silence, and that was no good at all.

Three stops later, they piled out of the train onto a platform, and Farran immediately tugged Vega’s hand to lead her out of the Tube.

“All right?” He wanted to get on to the portal. “I’m thinking the sooner we get to your family, the better all round.”

Vega had been leaning one hand on the bench where they’d come out, but that made her straighten. “Yes. I— yes.” Then she squared her shoulders. “Where are we going from here?”

Farran at least knew where the portal was, and he tucked her hand into his and led the way.