The Dark Amulet Collection

Chapter 19

Sheldrake and Maud departed for Highkington the next morning, leaving the boys in Beth and Clive’s care. Each of them had business in town and the Spring Garden Party was coming up. They took the lumbering old carriage, which was roomy and comfortable, but not at all fashionable. Maud’s sumptuous, deep green dress filled most of the interior so that Rose, whom she had brought as her maid, had to ride on top with Leon, the driver. Sheldrake sat across from her, dressed in his usual austere black, although the coat he wore today was exquisitely tailored as befitted a visit to court.

As they watched fields give way to cobbled streets and the stately stone homes of the northern sector, Maud leaned forward and tapped Sheldrake on the knee.

“Now my dear, I will ask Rose to glean what she can from the Kimoran Ambassador’s staff. The woman has an excessive number of staff. All show. Quite pointless, in my opinion. However, I shall ensure that she receives an invitation to the King’s garden party. Gavin won’t mind. He’s such a dear boy. So delightfully malleable.”

“He’s not, you know.” Sheldrake smiled at her. “Only where you are concerned. While you get to know Lady Electra, I will look up my network’s latest dispatches from Kimora. As I recall, things have been stable there since the current monarch ascended the throne.” He frowned. “But I seem to remember some serious unrest preceded her reign. Anyway, I’ll also see what anyone knows about shamans and their powers.” He nodded at a sprawling mansion whose rooves and chimneys could be seen through the trees of its manicured grounds. “Look! The Academy of Mages. I haven’t decided whether we should send Jayhan there or not.”

“You haven’t decided??”

YouSheldrake actually winced. “Whoops! I beg your pardon, my dear. Of course we will decide together. I just meant that for my part, I have not yet reached a conclusion.”

“Hmm. You only just slipped out of that one.” Although Maud’s eyes had narrowed, she flipped open a green brocade fan and began to fan herself to hide a smile. “I think his pale eyes will make him the butt of unwanted attention. I suspect that he may prefer to learn from home.”

“Perhaps. But he will have to take his place in the world someday and learn to cope with people’s reactions to his eyes.” Sheldrake gave Maud a wry smile. “And one day, you too will have to come to terms with his eyes. He is a dear boy, if a little impetuous. I have seen him watching you with Sasha when you are in other guises… not with jealousy exactly, but wistfully.”

Maud sniffed. “I do not dislike Jayhan, but I don’t feel comfortable when those pale eyes turn my way.” She threw up her hands. “I know. I’m his mother. I should love him without reservation but, well, I don’t. I do love him, but not without reservation.” She watched Sheldrake anxiously for his reaction.

The mage patted her knee. “I know, my dear. You are not a cruel woman. I know you do your best.”

Outside, the rhythmic hoof beats changed to the sounds of stamping followed by silence.

“Ah,” said Sheldrake. “We have arrived.”

A footman opened the door and handed out Maud, Sheldrake descending behind her. Before them, the broad white marble steps of the palace rose to huge carved wooden doors set into walls of cream sandstone.

Despite the relative cosiness of their own small mansion, Sheldrake and Maud didn’t even give the palace’s grandeur a second look. They had two adjoining apartments within the palace; one in which they lived whenever they were in town and the other which housed Sheldrake’s office and the deceptively small number of staff and records that he allowed the public to see. In reality, the King’s Spiders, his network of informants, was spread far and wide, not only through the Kingdom of Carrador, but also through every surrounding country. Maud, to all intents and purposes, was a social butterfly, attending soirees, balls, garden parties and drinking tea or sharing wine with nearly everyone who came to court. Between her servants and herself, very little escaped her, especially since she could, unbeknownst to her acquaintances, change form when it suited her purposes. But while Sheldrake was the gatherer of information, she both gathered and used it. Sheldrake organised the Spiders but Maud decided what and how to tell the king.

For two days they innocuously caught up with business and friends. But on the evening of their third day in town, Sheldrake stood in his study wearing a very worn, grubby brown coat, a rumpled shirt and scuffed shoes below a saggy pair of leggings. A woollen cap hid his black neatly trimmed hair. Jayhan would have gasped in shock. Never had he seen his father look anything other than neat and trim. Beside Sheldrake stood a solid brindle dog of indeterminate parentage, her shoulder on a level with his thigh. Her tail waved gently back and forth as she waited.

Sheldrake pulled out the third book from the fourth shelf of his bookcase and pushed on a seemingly featureless part of the rear panel. After replacing the book, he depressed a rosette in the wooden carving running down the bookcase’s left-hand side. With a click, the bookcase swung away from the wall, revealing a flight of stairs disappearing down into the darkness.

“Ready, Maisy?”

The dog wagged her tail and nudged her muzzle under his hand.

After a final glance around his study, he threw his tote bag over his shoulder and stepped onto the landing, Maisy right beside him. Once he had flicked his fingers to produce a floating orb of light, he pulled the bookcase towards him until it clicked back into place.

With the dog trailing behind him, Sheldrake descended the steps to a long passageway which ran under the rear of the palace and the street behind it. They climbed another set of stairs at the other end and minutes later, emerged from an inconspicuous door in a nearby alley. Maisy sniffed the air and the wall, then squatted for a pee while Sheldrake politely looked the other way. They spent the next ten minutes making sure that no one was following them before making their way to the Wayfarer’s Inn.

The inn was a cheerful establishment mainly catering to lower-middle and working-class patrons. Merchants, tradesmen and travellers chatted and drank around dark wood tables, creating a genial hum of conversation that conveniently masked any individual discussions that might take place. Rory the barman, a small but very tough man, knew Sheldrake’s real identity but always treated him as the down-at-heel travelling salesman he purported to be. He had no idea that Maisy was anything other than a dog but was happy to allow Sheldrake’s dog into the bar, provided she behaved herself.

Sheldrake ordered a beer and wove his way through the crowd, slowly so that he could catch snippets of conversations as he passed. As he drew level with the third table, he laid his hand on Maisy’s shoulder and moments later, she sat down to have a good scratch. Then she found a few well-trampled morsels, which led her under that particular table. Unnoticed by the patrons deep in conversation, she lay down under the table and put her head on her paws.

Sheldrake continued on his way until he reached a table just inside the far door. An old farmer was already seated there, nursing a pint.

“I heard you were looking for sacks to bag up your wheat,” said Sheldrake.

“Only if they are good hessian and good value,” came the reply.

Sheldrake’s face relaxed into a smile as he sat down. “Good to see you, Kristoff.” He leaned in closer. “Why the disguise? Have you struck trouble? Good wig, by the way.”

Kristoff shrugged. “A bit. I visited The Hidden Lantern on the other side of town. You know it?”

“I know of it but have never been there. Some oddball magic makers group meets there occasionally, as I recall. Any shamans among them?”

ofFor a moment Kristoff ignored the question. “They call themselves the Research Society. From what I saw, they are collectors of information about different types of magic use. A genuine group of enthusiasts, I think, with regular presentations by a variety of magic users from all over the world.” He took a pull on his beer. “And yes, they have had shamans present to them in the past but…” Here he leaned in. “when I asked whether there was a shaman I could talk to, the atmosphere changed. They closed ranks, so to speak, and told me that no shamans had visited their Society or the Hidden Lantern for some time. I am certain they were lying.”

“Interesting. Go on.”

“And when I left, I was followed. I let her tail me until I could duck into a doorway in an alley and get a good look at her. She was a young woman, late twenties, I’d say. Fair hair, brown eyes. I recognised her from the Hidden Lantern. She had been drinking at the bar, near enough to listen, but not a Society member, as far as I could tell.” He took a pull on his beer. “I thought of tackling her but that would have given away that I was skilled enough to rumble her and that I had more than a passing interest in shamans. So instead, I threw this dirty old smock over my clothes and donned the wig. Always carry a spare disguise in my tote bag.”

Sheldrake gave a brief smile and touched his own tote bag, which lay at his feet beside him.

“Hmph. Of course you do. I suppose you take those things for granted; things I think are clever.” Kristoff looked embarrassed.

“You’re doing very well, Kristoff. Please, go on.

Kristoff gave a wry smile that acknowledged the praise for the sop it was. “When she gave up looking for me, I followed her. And, to cut a long story short, she ended up at the rear entrance to the Kimoran Embassy.”

“Which she entered.”

“Exactly.” Kristoff pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I sketched her, in case you or one of your contacts knows her.”

Sheldrake smiled. “You have done very well. I did not expect this little assignment to become so fraught. It seems we are not the only ones interested in shamans.”