to change things? The Wintersea Party found a cure to save their Wunimals, didn’t they? I’m sure that was her doing. How can she change anything if we don’t give her a chance?’
He seemed to consider that. ‘You realise this is a minefield, Mog. We can’t just jump in and—’
‘Jupiter, this morning Sofia—’ Morrigan’s voice broke and she found herself unable to finish the sentence. But it was clear from the grieved look on his face that he’d already heard Sofia was in hospital. ‘How many Wunimals have to suffer before we do decide to jump in? If you could just talk to Prime Minister—’
‘All right! Just … give me a minute.’ He heaved an overwhelmed sigh, leaned back in his desk chair and stared up at the ceiling. ‘I’m trying to get my head around all this. I still can’t believe you went into the Republic without talking to me first.’
‘Only on the Gossamer Line. I had to do something, didn’t I?’
Jupiter sat forward again, spluttering incoherently. ‘Wh-what – I mean – did you? Really? Why did you? Why would you think that, when there is an entire task force of adult Society members who are currently dedicating their lives to doing something? Forgive me, but nobody asked you to do anything!’
Morrigan flinched as if he’d flung a glass of cold water over her. She had a sudden memory of something Holliday Wu had said – she, too, had accused Morrigan of swooping in where she didn’t belong, where she wasn’t asked to be. Of making a mess.
Hurt feelings barrelled into anger, building like a wave inside her and then crashing violently, viciously.
‘And what exactly have all you adults done?’ she shouted. ‘Have you found a cure? Is Dr Bramble getting closer every day, or is she exactly where she was last week, and the week before that? You’re right. Nobody asked me to do anything, but I’ve DONE IT ANYWAY, on my own. I had to go outside the Free State to do it, but by some miracle I have found an ACTUAL adult who can ACTUALLY help.’
Now it was Jupiter’s turn to flinch.
‘Talk to Steed,’ she demanded, blinking back furious tears. ‘I don’t care if you’re not overly fond of him, just talk to him. Wintersea is going to ask him one more time to meet with her, leader to leader. All he has to do is finally accept her invitation, and we can have our friends back. Please, make him understand. If you don’t, I’ll – I’ll have no choice.’
Jupiter had turned very pale. ‘What do you mean, you’ll have no choice?’
‘I mean if Steed won’t accept help from Wintersea, I’ll accept it from Squall.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Dear Prime Minister
Morrigan had never been on a rollercoaster, but in the forty-eight hours following her argument with Jupiter, she thought she could imagine what it would feel like.
To her surprise, Jupiter seemed to have fully accepted his mission. He left immediately after their row, determined to convince the prime minister to meet with Wintersea, and was gone for the rest of the day. But when he arrived home late in the evening, he stormed past Morrigan, Martha and Fenestra in the lobby and headed straight for the glass elevator without a word to anyone. Whatever conversation he’d had with Steed, it obviously hadn’t ended well.
‘Weight of the world on his shoulders, that man,’ said Martha, with a rueful shake of her head as they watched him disappear. ‘Puts far too much pressure on himself.’
Morrigan said nothing, but she felt a twinge of guilt in her stomach. It was she, after all, who was putting pressure on him this time.
‘Yeah, I noticed he’s been a bit stressed,’ said Fenestra, yawning widely. She was stretched out, belly up, across the concierge desk, despite Kedgeree having already shooed her off it a dozen times that day. ‘So I got him a present. Left it on his bed.’
Morrigan and Martha shared a look of surprise.
‘I – gosh, Fen,’ said Morrigan. ‘That’s really nice. What did you—’
‘FENESTRAAAAAAA!’ Jupiter’s roar of fury echoed through the empty hotel and all the way down the spiral staircase.
Martha winced, peeking sideways at Fen. ‘Fish?’
‘Rat.’ The Magnificat looked extremely put out that her gift had been so poorly received. ‘It was a really big one, too. So ungrateful.’
Rather like its proprietor, the Hotel Deucalion was moody and frustrated. Unlike Jupiter, though, the Deucalion was acting out in increasingly peculiar ways.
The shutters still hadn’t come back up, despite the best efforts