strangers who inhabit its caves, so we can all say, ‘I live in the city’. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Then this is what the Aldermen are. We are the ants who climbed to the top of their hill, who looked down from the highest tower of the maze and saw the darkness and the time and the caverns, and realised the smallness of man within this heaving world. We are the ones who saw this, and were not afraid. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“I have been told that for sorcerers, magic is life, that to live is to be magical. The same is true for Aldermen. We find our magic in being nothing. Ants on top of a heap. Do you understand?”
I smiled. I tangled my fingers together between my knees. “Yes,” I said. “I understand what the Aldermen are.”
“Then you understand why the Midnight Mayor has always - usually - come from the Aldermen’s ranks.”
“Maybe.”
“It is the city, Swift. The city is so old, now. So many millions of dead men and dead women buried beneath it. They all scuttled through the streets and made the city what it is, and now they are forgotten. Millions of wandering forgotten ghosts; but the city! It is so alive. The Midnight Mayor must protect the city. Do you understand what this means?”
“I understand what you think it means.”
“Swift . . .”
“I have a theory as to why Nair made us Midnight Mayor.”
“Well?”
“I think he knew the Midnight Mayor couldn’t fight Mr Pinner. Of course he knew it, he was dying as he made the phone call. But I think it was something more, something earlier.”
“Go on.”
“I think Nair understood that cities change.”
Earle was silent as he contemplated this. Then he shook his head, almost sadly. “Would you like to hear my theory?” he asked. “I’ve been thinking about it too, of course. We all have, all the Aldermen, all the ones who seemed more qualified.”
I shrugged.
“I think . . .” He took a deep breath, as if perhaps this was too important to bungle. “I think that Nair made you Midnight Mayor in order to eliminate a threat.”
“Mr Pinner?”
“No. Well - Mr Pinner too. But another threat, possibly one even worse.”
“Which is?”
“You.”
“I’m confused.”
“You. I think Nair made you Midnight Mayor in order to force you to take responsibility, to make you become involved, to drive you to take a side and fight for it. I think he did it to control you, to bind you, to curse you with this office. I think he did it to eliminate the threat of the blue electric angels.”
We stared at him long and hard, too surprised to say anything. He let us stare, then smiled a real smile, cruel and dry. “If you can’t beat them . . .”
“We don’t believe that.”
“That doesn’t matter, does it? What matters, is whether Nair believed it. And there, I fear, is something we’ll never know.”
We didn’t speak. He let out a great, tummy-clenching sigh, and stood up sharply, his leather shoes snapping against the polished floor. “Still, none of this is really to the point, is it? You want to know about the inauguration, how to survive? The answer is I can’t really tell you. It’s always different for each new Mayor. Being, as they are, just a man with a brand on the hand. I know it has to be done, in order for the transfer of office to be complete. And if you are going to survive any more encounters with Mr Pinner, I suggest you take every advantage presented to you.”
“What do I need to do?” A voice that might have been ours, somewhere a long way off.
“You have to walk the old city walls, seal the gates against evil.”
“That’s not just unhelpful, it’s pretentiously vague.”
“It’s what it says on the cards.”
“And how do I do that?”
“I don’t entirely know. Not being, myself, Midnight Mayor.”
“I’m a sorcerer, not a Jedi.”
“Is that something you tell yourself in times of doubt?”
“It’s something a religious nutcase pointed out to me in a moment of prophetic insight.”
He shrugged. “I can only hold your hand so far. You’ll work it out.”
“You’re really not much use, are you?”
He treated me to the crocodile smile. “May the Force be with you,” he said, and gave me a Vulcan V for good luck. And then his smile almost became a chuckle. “No one else is.”
Afternoon melted into evening.
Evening asked night if it was free for a coffee.
Night sheepishly went in search of its dancing shoes, having