Marcellus knew the interview was at an end. He took off his spectacles and put them back in their red velvet case. “Dragon blood is a wonderful thing, but it does have a tendency to lead to puddles in snow, which is most annoying for those who fall into them. I suppose your shoes were ruined, Marcia?”
“How did you know I—”
Marcellus stood up. He had won and he wanted to get out of Marcia’s study as soon as possible. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have important work to continue. I hope next time we meet it will be to do the job that we all wish to do—DeNature the Two-Faced Ring.”
Marcia opened the study door. “Yes, indeed.” She took a deep breath and said, “I apologize for interrupting your work, Marcellus. I’ll see you out.”
Beetle sat down with a sigh. Quietly, he put the Vent diagram and his tracing, now covered with taunting black crosses, back in his folder. He had made his first mistake as Chief Hermetic Scribe. It was not a good feeling.
Marcia returned without Marcellus. Beetle leaped to his feet. “Marcia, I am so sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, Beetle,” said Marcia. “It’s all for the best. Marcellus knows we have our eye on him now. Please do not let this put you off. You must let me know about anything else suspicious—anything at all.”
Beetle felt very relieved. “Yes. Yes, of course I will. I will check out all the crosses he made.”
“Thank you, Beetle. Now I think we have both earned a strong cup of coffee.”
By the time Marcia escorted Beetle down the stairs he felt a little less embarrassed about the interview with Marcellus. As they spiraled down into the vaulted space of the Great Hall, Beetle saw that something had caught Marcia’s attention: Milo Banda was coming out of the duty Wizard’s cupboard.
Beetle saw Milo catch sight of Marcia and stop dead. Milo dithered. It seemed to Beetle that Milo wanted to skip back into the cupboard but was unsure whether Marcia had seen him. Marcia decided it for him. She jumped from the stairs and set off across the Great Hall at top speed. Beetle kept a tactful distance—something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what.
Milo was floundering. “Marcia, how nice. Goodness. Fancy seeing you here.”
Marcia looked confused. “I generally am here. This is where I live. And where I work.”
“Yes, yes. Of course. What I meant was that I didn’t expect to bump into you.”
“No?”
“No. I, um, have some business here. A small project of mine.”
“Oh. You never said. I might have been able to help.”
“No . . . no, I don’t think so.”
“Oh.”
“But of course, er, thank you for the offer. I do hope you understand,” Milo said anxiously. “I didn’t want to disturb you. I know how busy you are. That’s why I come here in the mornings.”
“Mornings?”
“Er, yes. Hildegarde said it was the best time.”
“Hildegarde?”
“Yes. But of course if you prefer I can see Hildegarde other times.”
“It matters not a jot to me when you choose to see Miss Pigeon,” Marcia said icily. “However, I will be having words with Miss Pigeon about using work time for social engagements.” Marcia turned on her purple python heel and strode off.
Milo caught up with her at the foot of the stairs. “But it’s not a social—”
Marcia glared at Milo. “I find that I have other commitments this evening. Double speed!” The stairs did Marcia’s bidding and took her whirling upward. A distant scream followed by a thump came from somewhere far above as a Wizard was thrown off by the sudden change of speed.
Beetle and Milo watched Marcia’s purple cloak disappear.
“Bother,” Milo said. “Bother, bother, bother.”
“I’ll second that,” said Beetle.