By the time I got back to my little flat, after checking on Harold and making sure he was fed, watered and happy, I was footsore and very, very grumpy. I dumped Winter’s little box of tricks on my kitchen table, where I resolved never to look at it again, and flounced into the living room. It didn’t help matters that I couldn’t find a plumber willing to come out – unless it was for an exorbitant emergency callout charge – until Monday. I wrapped myself in my duvet, curled up on the sofa and sniffed.
‘This is all a dream,’ I told myself. ‘A terrible nightmare. I’m about to wake up and I’ll laugh at myself.’ I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched my arm. For good measure, Brutus appeared and offered a secondary nip with his sharp teeth. Neither worked. I opened my eyes and gazed at him. ‘Yeah,’ I sighed. ‘I knew it was too much to ask. You can’t blame me for trying though.’
He blinked at me. ‘Ears.’
I reached over and gave him the desired scratch. A deep purr throbbed from his throat. ‘More.’
I kept going.
‘More.’
‘I am thy servant,’ I told him, without a trace of irony.
His tail whipped suddenly from side to side. ‘Stop, bitch.’
I yanked my fingers away in the nick of time. I’d had enough psychological injury already today; I didn’t need physical scratches as well. Brutus hopped off the sofa and stalked away, clearly annoyed that I’d stroked him for a second longer than his desired time.
I leant back and pondered my situation. There had to be a way out; maybe the Order hadn’t considered every avenue yet. I stared at the ceiling thoughtfully then dug out my phone. It rang for several seconds and I was on the verge of giving up when someone finally answered. ‘What?’
‘You know,’ I said, snuggling deeper into the duvet, ‘you’re not going to win friends and influence people with that kind of attitude.’
‘Good evening. You have reached the esteemed laboratory of I-don’t-give-a-shit. How may we not help you?’
I grinned. Iqbal was a man after my own heart. ‘Hi, honey.’
‘I’m busy, Ivy. We can’t all loll around, some of us have work to do.’
‘I work.’
‘Sitting on your arse all day long and occasionally turning a steering wheel is not work.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘And reading all day is?’
‘You try it,’ he snarked.
Tomes and treatises on the history of the British Isles? No thanks. ‘How is that PhD coming along?’ I asked. Iqbal has been studying for it since I first met him. I keep waiting for someone to tell him that he’ll lose his funding if he doesn’t get a move on and actually write something, but he seems to keep managing to slide by. Although by the last count, his grandmother has died seven times. The university is generous with its compassionate leave.
‘I wrote two hundred words today,’ he said, with a hint of pride.
‘Great!’
‘I deleted three hundred and sixty-two.’
‘Well,’ I demurred, ‘editing is important. What’s the actual total?’
‘Eighteen.’
‘Eighteen thousand? That’s brilliant.’
There was a pause. ‘No. Just eighteen.’
Ah. ‘It could be worse.’
‘Could it?’ His tone was morose. ‘“The effect of magic on the substantive growth and expansion of the British Empire by Iqbal L. Sharif”. That’s all I’ve got. And I’m including my initial in the word count. I’m also thinking that I should delete “substantive”.’
‘You realise you’re my hero, right?’
He snorted. ‘What do you want, Ivy? You can’t be calling up just to check on my lack of progress.’
I twiddled a loose blonde curl. ‘Why not? That’s what friends do. I’m being supportive.’
‘Get to the point.’
Fair enough. ‘I’ve been subjected to a rather complicated binding spell,’ I said, outlining the details for him.
‘Wow. The Order really hate you, huh?’
‘Actually, the spell on its own is nothing to do with me. As far as I can work out, it’s more binding than usual because they didn’t trust their own guy not to dump me when he got fed up.’
There was a pause. ‘Who’s their guy?’
‘Adeptus Exemptus Winter.’
Iqbal let out a low whistle. ‘Damn, girl.’
‘You know him?’
‘I know of him. Everyone knows of him. How come you don’t?’
‘Because I don’t pay attention to what the Order does. You know that, Iqbal.’
‘I know you said that. I just thought…’
‘What? That I say I don’t care about them but really I stalk them at every opportunity?’
‘Well, yeah.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘I’m a pretty uncomplicated person. What you see is what you get.’ Secrets take time and energy. Most of the time, at least. There was one glaring exception to that rule but I’d put it behind me long ago. ‘Anyway, what I want to know is—’
‘—is whether there’s a way to break the binding before the first hundred days are up. I can look into it but it’s probably an ancient spell and we both know they’re the toughest ones to crack. The good news is I’ve got all the right books lying around here.’
I beamed. ‘Brill.’
‘Bear in mind,’ he cautioned, ‘that this sort of spell sounds like it’s been drawn right out of the Cyphers. In that scenario…’
‘I get it,’ I said. The Cypher Manuscripts are the Bible as far as the Order are concerned. The magic written on their pages is stronger than you’ll find anywhere else. It is essentially primeval; it is enchantment in its rawest form. Fortunately, however, its power is rarely harnessed. Even Second Level Order members have to petition to be allowed access to even one dusty yellowing Cypher page. And I’d heard there were thousands. There was no way that the Order had gone to those lengths for a binding spell, no matter how much they wanted to keep Winter in line. ‘If Cypher magic was used, then all bets are off.’
‘Agreed.’ Iqbal paused. ‘So what do I get in return for helping you?’
Arse. ‘Joy in your heart.’
‘Not enough, Ivy. I need more.’
I scrunched up my face. ‘What do you want?’
Iqbal didn’t hesitate. ‘Karaoke.’
‘You bastard.’
I could virtually hear him grin. ‘Minimum of two hours. At least three songs from you, one of which must be a duet with me.’
‘There must be something else. My life savings? My first-born? Anything?’
‘Those are my terms.’
Damn him. ‘No rap.’ My mouth didn’t work that fast.
‘Done.’
‘And no Sonny and Cher for the duet.’
‘Fine.’ He sounded smug. That had me worried but what choice did I have?
‘Okay. Find the information I need and I’ll do karaoke,’ I said reluctantly.
‘I’m already on it.’