and twenty thousand landmarks within six miles of Charing Cross, that were required in order to get a license?
“A driver?” Hamish sputtered.
“Yes. And does that fancy Coutts account I have come with a bank card—one with a high spending limit?”
Gallowglass swore. She looked at him frostily.
“Yes.” Hamish’s wariness increased.
“Good. I need to buy some books. Everything Athanasius Kircher ever wrote. First or second editions. Do you think you could send out a few inquiries before the weekend?” Diana studiously avoided Gallowglass’s piercing gaze.
“Athanasius who?” Hamish asked. Gallowglass could hear a pen scratching on paper.
“Kircher.” She spelled it out for him, letter by letter. “You’ll have to go to the rare-book dealers.
There must be copies floating around London. I don’t care how much they cost.”
“You sound like Granny,” Gallowglass muttered. That alone was reason for concern.
“If you can’t get me copies by the end of next week, I suppose I’ll have to go to the British Library.
But fall term has started, and the rare-book room is bound to be full of witches. I’m sure it would be better if I stayed at home.”
“Could I talk to Matthew?” Hamish said a trifle breathlessly.
“He’s not here.”
“You’re alone?” He sounded shocked.
“Of course not. Gallowglass is with me,” Diana replied.
“And Gallowglass knows about your plan to sit in the public reading rooms of the British Library and read these books by—what’s his name? Athanasius Kircher? Have you gone completely mad? The whole Congregation is looking for you!” Hamish’s voice rose steadily with each sentence.
“I am aware of the Congregation’s interest, Hamish. That’s why I asked you to buy the books,”
Diana said mildly.
“Where is Matthew?” Hamish demanded.
“I don’t know.” Diana crossed her fingers when she told the lie.
There was a long silence.
“I’ll meet you at the airport. Let me know when you’re an hour away,” Hamish said.
“That’s not necessary,” she said.
“One hour before you land, call me.” Hamish paused. “And, Diana? I don’t know what the hell is going on, but of one thing I’m sure: Matthew loves you. More than his own life.”
“I know,” Diana whispered before she hung up.
Now she’d gone from hopeless to dead-sounding.
The plane turned south and east. The vampire at the controls had overheard the conversation and acted accordingly.
“What is that oaf doing?” Gallowglass growled, shooting to his feet and upsetting the tea tray so that the shortbread biscuits scattered all over the floor. “You cannot head directly for London!” he shouted into the cockpit. “That’s a four-hour flight, and she’s not to be in the air for more than three.”
“Where to, then?” came the pilot’s muffled reply as the plane changed course.
“Put in at Stornoway. It’s a straight shot, and less than three hours. From there it will be an easy jump to London,” Gallowglass replied.
That settled it. Marcus’s ride with Matthew, Jack, Hubbard, and Lobero, no matter how hellish, couldn’t possibly compare to this.
“It’s beautiful.” Diana held her hair away from her face. It was dawn, and the sun was just rising over The Minch. Gallowglass filled his lungs with the familiar air of home and set about remembering a sight he had often dreamed of: Diana Bishop standing here, on the land of his ancestors.
“Aye.” He turned and marched toward the jet. It was waiting on the taxiway, lights on and ready to depart.
“I’ll be there in a minute.” Diana scanned the horizon. Autumn had painted the hills with umber and golden strokes among the green. The wind carried the witch’s red hair out in a streak that glowed like embers.
Gallowglass wondered what had captured her attention. There was nothing to see but a misguided gray heron, his long, bright yellow legs too insubstantial to hold up the rest of his body.
“Come, Auntie. You’ll freeze to death out here.” Ever since he’d parted with his leather jacket, Gallowglass had worn nothing more than his habitual uniform of T-shirt and torn jeans. He no longer felt the cold, but he remembered how the early-morning air in this part of the world could cut to the bone.
The heron stared at Diana for a moment. He ducked his head up and down, stretching his wings and crying out. The bird took flight, soaring away toward the sea.
“Diana?”
She turned blue-gold eyes in Gallowglass’s direction. His hackles rose. There was something otherworldly in her gaze that made him recall his childhood, and a dark room where his grandfather cast runes and uttered prophecies.
Even after the plane took to the skies, Diana remained fixed on some unseen, distant view.