’ow—’ began Starkey, but Cornelius interrupted:
‘Mr Quare.’
Quare started; he had begun to think himself forgotten. ‘Yes?’
‘That’s why you brung ’im along,’ Cornelius continued, ignoring Quare completely. ‘You fink ’e can do what Magnus couldn’t and what you dare not even try. That’s right, ain’t it?’
‘Hardly. There may be one other in all of England who can discern the secrets of this timepiece, but that person is not Mr Quare. However, it’s true enough that my young friend has a certain … affinity with it,’ Longinus said. ‘I do not think it will kill him.’
‘’Ear that, Mr Quare?’ asked Starkey, more amused than ever. ‘’E don’t fink it’ll kill yer. ’Ow’s that for a vote o’ confidence?’
‘It’s not the watch I’m worried about,’ Quare answered.
‘So it’s a watch, is it?’ Starkey rejoined.
‘Of course it’s a watch,’ Longinus replied before Quare could add anything. ‘Did I not say so already?’
‘No, you did not,’ said Cornelius, measuring out his words. ‘What else ’ave you omitted to mention, I wonder? I thought we ’ad an understandin’, Grimalkin. An agreement. We give you the right o’ passage through our dark domain, and you give us bits o’ information and a cut o’ the swag from up top. Ain’t that always been the way of it?’
‘Might be it’s time to renegotiate our agreement, Corny,’ put in Starkey.
‘I was thinkin’ the very same, Starks.’
‘We don’t have time for this,’ Longinus said, exasperated. ‘Gentlemen, I assure you, our need is urgent. More urgent than you can imagine. As for the agreement to which you refer, neither you, Mr Cornelius, nor you, Mr Starkey, has the right to renegotiate so much as a syllable. Do not forget that I saved your king’s life once. I dare say he has not forgotten.’
‘There you would be wrong,’ Starkey said. ‘King Jeremiah ’as grown rather forgetful of late, I regret ter say.’
Cornelius added, in a voice edged with mockery, ‘Come now, sir. You cannot expect me to believe that you are ignorant o’ the fact that King Jeremiah is no longer among the livin’.’
Longinus drew in a sharp breath. ‘Jerry dead? When? How?’
‘That don’t concern you,’ said Cornelius. ‘But there’s a new king on the mushroom throne. And ’e might not feel ’isself bound by any agreements entered into by ’is predecessor – kings is peculiar that way, I find.’
‘You know what I fink, Corny?’ piped up Starkey.
‘What’s that, Starks?’
‘I fink we should bring our guests to meet ’is Majesty.’
By now the conversation had undergone so many twists and turns that Quare was positively dizzy. Whether the ‘Morecockneyans’ were friends or enemies or something in between, he didn’t know, but he did know that he had no desire whatsoever to meet their so-called king. And the same, it was apparent, was true of Longinus.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said as if speaking to guests in his own drawing room, ‘you know me. You know what I can do. That I have not thus far drawn my sword is a measure of my friendship with your late king, and my belief that the agreement between us was still in effect even after so many years. If that is not the case, I shall feel justified in defending myself.’ And here he did in fact make to draw his sword; seeing which, however indistinctly, Quare did likewise.
The effect was electric. ‘No need ter be so ’asty,’ said Starkey, backing off a step.
‘Indeed not,’ Cornelius said. ‘We was only tryin’ ter be ’ospitable like. But I can see yer in a ’urry. Yer can always meet ’is Majesty some uvver time.’
‘Then our agreement is still in effect?’
‘’Course it is,’ said Cornelius. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll just—’
‘Very well,’ Longinus interrupted with a satisfied nod. ‘Then by the terms of that agreement, I require your assistance, gentlemen.’
‘But—’ began Starkey.
Faster than Quare could follow, Longinus’s sword was out of its scabbard. ‘You will accompany us to the guild hall of the Worshipful Company of Clockmakers,’ he said. ‘That way we can travel without the need for torches. Your vision, after all, is considerably better than our own down here. Though never fear: I can see well enough to employ this’ – he flourished the blade – ‘if we should run into any trouble along the way.’
‘That’s … comfortin’ ter know,’ Cornelius said after a glance at Starkey.
‘Mr Starkey, you will oblige me by joining Mr Cornelius at the head of our little group. Sword sheathed, if you don’t mind.’
‘Wiv pleasure,’ he grumbled, sliding his sword back into its scabbard