Any Other Name (The Split Worlds) - By Emma Newman Page 0,3
to keep her head up. Nap first, escape later, she thought. There would be time. There was always time for sleep.
Max watched Axon stitch the incision closed as Petra peeled off the latex gloves covered in the dead Arbiter’s blood. In the silence of the cloister the only sounds had been those of the autopsy. Both Petra and Axon were clearly shaken by what they’d seen but Max’s emotions were safely locked away in the gargoyle back at the Sorcerer’s house.
The Sorcerer came to the doorway holding a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. “All done?”
“Yes, Mr Ekstrand, all done,” Petra replied, taking off the apron and washing her hands in a nearby basin of water. “Once Axon has finished, I suggest we repair to the house.”
“Good idea,” Ekstrand replied. “What are your initial impressions?”
Max could see Petra’s hands trembling with fatigue. She’d been working solidly for two long days. Axon had noticed it too. “Perhaps that would be better discussed over a cup of tea sir,” he suggested, tying off the thick black thread.
“I’ll open a Way,” Ekstrand said. “Thank you for your hard work. An admirable activity for a Thursday, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Indeed, sir.” Axon pulled off his gloves. “I’ll see to everything back here once refreshments have been served.” That earned a grateful smile from Petra.
They left the cool sterility of the healing room at the cloister and walked straight through into Ekstrand’s hallway. Petra excused herself, Axon promised tea and Ekstrand paced impatiently as Max hobbled to the sofa in the living room.
The gargoyle was upstairs and Max knew it was hiding from the gruesome task of discovering what had killed everyone in the Bath Chapter. Max assumed it was feeling unsettled, as his own emotional reaction to the autopsy was bound into the stone through the soul chain round the gargoyle’s neck.
Ekstrand poked at the fire. “How’s the leg?”
“Healing well, thank you, sir,” Max said.
“Splendid, splendid. I spoke with the Master of Ceremonies this morning, whilst you were at the cloister. He’s much better than when you first found him. He couldn’t speak for long. His niece is getting married today.”
“The puppet who helped us?”
“Was that her? I have no idea. Perhaps, although he has more than one niece. He’s very happy to have his house back, even though he won’t be able to use it in the same way again, of course.”
“And what exactly did he use it for?”
“Secret meetings with his lovers. It seems the sister gets jealous. Strange bunch, the Fae-touched.”
“Yes, sir.” Max tried to flex his foot, as having the broken leg resting on a footstool was giving him pins and needles. A dull ache where the titanium pins and plates had been secured felt like it had set in for the day.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, sir,” Petra said as she entered wearing different clothes. “Max, the gargoyle can read!”
“You didn’t give it any of my books did you?” Ekstrand was half out of the chair before she had a chance to reply.
“Of course not. I gave it one of mine.”
“Wuthering Heights,” Max said as a sudden image of the title page popped into his mind.
She blinked at him. “You know it’s creepy when you do that?”
“It houses his soul, of course he knows,” Ekstrand said. “Petra, once we’ve discussed your findings I want to practise what one should say on hearing that a niece has recently married.”
“All right.” She had her notebook and pen and sat on the nearest armchair as Axon arrived with the tea. As Ekstrand was distracted by the impending refreshments, she leaned towards Max. “The gargoyle liked the sound of it. It almost went for The Count of Monte Cristo.”
“It is Lapsang Souchong, isn’t it, Axon?” At the butler’s nod Ekstrand said, “I’ll pour.”
He handed a cup of tea to Max. “Lavandula told me that if we hadn’t intervened, the Roses would have broken him and returned him corrupted. Before we could say, ‘More Battenberg, please’ they’d have used him to wheedle their way onto the Aquae Sulis Council and shut me out. That reminds me, where’s the cake?”
“Here, sir,” Axon said, bringing in a large plate stand. “Lemon drizzle cake sir, as requested.”
“Did I really ask for that? Pop it down and give everyone a slice, there’s a good fellow. Now, let’s discuss the details from the autopsies.”
Petra flipped back a few pages. “The results are… unusual,” she said after a few moments, and then took a slice of cake from Axon gratefully. “They