The Faeman Quest

Forty-Four

‘How did this happen?’ Lord Hairstreak demanded. Normally he would have strangled the messenger: one had to have some compensation for bad news. But it was Aisling who brought him word of Mella’s escape, so he strangled his emotions instead and put up with the frustration. And to be fair, now he thought about it, the news wasn’t all that bad. Because Mella, it seemed, had foolishly run into the forest, which was infested with the fiercest manticores as part of Kremlin Karcist security, so her chances of survival were slim. It would be only be a matter of time before one of the beasts found her and carried her off to feed its young. And even if she somehow avoided the forest manticores, there was no way of avoiding the herd on the plains beyond. The perfect way of getting rid of her. The manticores would leave no bone unchewed, no trace of her at all. Such an unfortunate accident. He couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t thought of it before. With Mella out of the way, the substitution of her clone became child’s play.

Except that he was looking into an empty ouklo. There was no sign of the Mella clone.

‘I don’t know,’ Aisling said.

If he was brutally honest with himself, she sounded as if she didn’t really care. But he could hardly expect her to grasp the devious intricacies of his plan, or its overriding importance, come to that. After all, they’d only just met and he’d scarcely had time to tell her more than the bare bones of what he was doing. ‘What exactly happened?’

Aisling’s face had taken on a bored, petulant expression. She examined her fingernails and spoke without looking at him. ‘The girl got into the carriage then ran out the other door.’ She looked up at him. ‘It wasn’t my fault.’

‘No, of course not,’ Hairstreak muttered. Actually, she was right. He should never have given her responsibility for Mella at this early stage of their relationship. Not that it would probably have been much different if he’d escorted the girl himself. Who’d have thought that Mella with her memory wiped would run away? Why on earth should she? Her actions were quite unpredictable and he would not have predicted them. But that was water under the bridge. He had to be careful now. Ysabeau and the other Table members could appear at any moment. None of them knew all the details of his plan and he wished to keep it that way. In particular, he preferred to keep the existence of the clone secret. ‘Was there anyone else in the carriage at the time?’

‘I don’t know,’ Aisling said.

Hairstreak considered his position. Mella might have run away – although for the life of him he couldn’t think why – but the Mella clone never would: she’d always been a model of obedience. She’d probably just got bored waiting and wandered off. Which meant she was in the grounds somewhere, possibly even in the house. But he needed to find her before anyone else did. It was important she didn’t go on public display before he was sure the original Mella was dead. He looked around him.

‘Where are my guards?’ he demanded.

‘I sent them off after the girl when she escaped,’ Aisling said. ‘They followed her into the forest.’ She hesitated. ‘So did the other girl.’

‘What other girl?’

‘I saw another girl creep out of the bushes and follow them in. I don’t know where she came from.’

It was the Mella clone. It had to be – there simply wasn’t any other girl about. Now the two Mellas were in the forest. This was turning into a nightmare. What if he lost the clone? What if she was savaged by a manticore? He’d trained her perfectly for the job she had to do, but that training had taken time. He couldn’t possibly start over with another one.

‘Lord Hairstreak -’

Hairstreak groaned. This was all he needed. Ysabeau was headed down the path towards them with other members of the Table of Seven straggling behind her.

‘Is everything all right, Lord Hairstreak?’

Hairstreak came to a decision. ‘Companion Ysabeau,’ he said firmly, ‘how do you control the forest manticores?’

Ysabeau looked at him blankly. ‘Control?’ she frowned. ‘Manticores?’

‘The forest manticores,’ Hairstreak snapped impatiently. ‘They’re part of your security system. There must be some way you control them to allow free passage through the forest when you need it.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Ysabeau exclaimed. ‘Yes. Yes, of course. You mean, as when our technicians need entry to the forest to check the system overall. We use a manticore repellent.’

‘Is that a spell?’

Ysabeau shook her head. ‘It’s a whistle. You hang it round your neck and when you press the button it emits a sound the manticores don’t like.’

‘So they keep away?’

‘Single manticores, yes.’

‘What about a herd?’

Ysabeau shook her head again, more violently this time. ‘You mustn’t use them near a herd. When they’re clumped together manticores can’t get away from the sound quickly enough, so they usually panic and trample each other. But it works well enough in the forest.’

‘I’ll need two whistles,’ Lord Hairstreak told her. ‘Can you arrange that?’

‘Yes, of course, Lord Hairstreak.’ Ysabeau glanced around her in bewilderment. ‘But… why?’

‘The Lady Aisling and I are going for a little walk,’ Hairstreak told her. ‘In the forest.’