Old Sarum sent a contorted glance toward the hedges and the shadows in the road and stuck his lower lip out. “As to that, Your Honor, I’m not sure they would be safe. I was told to keep them safe, meaning no disrespect.”
“I have never guaranteed safety,” London replied, “or wealth either.”
“No, and your streets aren’t really paved with gold neither,” Old Sarum retorted. “I know. It’s not your fault some humans get rich and have a lovely time and some has to doss on a doorstep or get robbed. Nothing to do with you. But we’re not talking about that, Your Honor. We’re discussing about me driving them to a part
icular doorstep like Mrs. Candace wants me to. Is that too much to ask?”
There was a long pause. London appeared to be listening to something in the distance, the singsong of a fire engine or an ambulance perhaps. We certainly heard something like that, followed by clocks striking, while we waited. Then, finally, his vast figure straightened a little. His chorus voice sounded amused.
“I have been under orders, too,” he told us. “Even me. It seems that time was needed to penetrate certain magical defenses. The enchantment was absolute while it lasted, but I can let you go now. Get in your car and drive where you want to go.” He lifted one huge, glossy shoe and stepped over the nearest row of houses into the next street. Before he lifted the other foot, he stood astride the houses and gave a rumbling chuckle. “I shall be with you all the way, of course.”
He was, too. We climbed quickly and thankfully back into the car and Old Sarum drove on through the city. And every time I glanced out of the open half of the window, I saw London’s huge shadowy figure wading among the houses beside us.
It seemed to take an age to get to Grandad’s house. I was mad with anxiety all the way. I knew that if Sybil was able to order London to hold us up while Grandfather Gwyn carried out her orders, then she had grown hideously powerful and we had to tell Grandad.
But it never occurred to me what she had done. Old Sarum drew up outside the house at last with a fine shriek of brakes, and I jumped out and rushed to the front door. While I clattered away at the knocker, I could hear Old Sarum going on at Grundo: “Oh, I don’t do it to be thanked. I’m just the dogsbody, I am. You rush away, too. Don’t mind me, I’m only a rotten borough....” And Grundo was trying to make himself heard, saying, “But we do thank you. We’re very, very grateful. Hey, let me get the salamander out before you drive away....”
Long before the door was opened, Old Sarum had driven away and Grundo had joined me on the doorstep with the salamander on his shoulder. I clattered the knocker one more time, and the door was opened at last by my cousin Toby.
Toby is always a pale boy, but just then he was chalky, with a dazed sort of stare to his eyes. Behind him, I could hear the most dreadful yelling and sobbing noises. Dora, I thought.
“What’s happened?” I said. “What’s wrong?”
Toby gulped. “Grandad. He was carried off just a minute ago. Mum says it was the King of the Dead who took him.”
The inside of me seemed to pitch downward into somewhere icy. “I shall kill Sybil,” I said. “Quite soon.”
TWO NICK
I hadn’t expected Roddy to be quite so overbearing. I suppose she was upset about all the things that had been happening, but then so were we. The way Maxwell Hyde had been taken—just like that—seemed to hang over us all like nervousness and horror. It was almost as if something awful was going to happen. Instead of it just having happened, if you see what I mean.
I was picking up furniture and game pieces and trying to calm Dora down while I did it. Salamanders were rushing about, and transparent creatures were bundling this way and that in droves. I was saying, “Hush, you’ll upset the salamanders. Hush, it doesn’t help to yell,” when Roddy came striding in with Toby and another boy behind her.
She stood staring about. You’d think her eyes were weapons. They sort of snapped dark fire. Otherwise she was just as I’d been remembering her, with that look of having simply grown, like a tree or something. She had a fabulous figure, even in baggy old trousers and an old gray sweater, quite thin, but all beautifully rounded, and she smelled nice, too, even from where I was on the floor. My heart began beating in little rapid bangs. My legs felt weak, and I could feel my face flushing red and then draining white again.
But part of the simply grown thing with Roddy was that she never even thought she might have that sort of effect on people. In fact she didn’t care what effect she had. She said, “This place looks as if a bomb hit it! And there are salamanders everywhere. Haven’t any of you thought of the fire risk?”
That was enough to start my heart beating normally, if you count angry thumping as normal. And I could pretend that any strange color in my face was due to groping under the sofa for game pieces.
“You!” she snapped at me. “What’s your version of Grandad’s disappearance?”
I stood up. It helps to be tall enough to loom a bit. “What, no ‘Hallo, Nick, fancy seeing you again!’?” I said. “Shut up, Dora.”
“Yes, be quiet, Auntie,” Roddy said. “Of course I remember you, but this is urgent.”
“Gwyn ap Nud,” I said. “I know him because we have him on Earth, too. Just rode through here and hauled Maxwell Hyde up on his horse and left.”
At this stage Dora decided to stop screaming and turn social. She surged off the sofa with tears on her face, saying, “My niece, Arianrhod Hyde, and her friend, Ambrose Temple, Nick. Nick is Daddy’s Oriental pupil, Roddy dear.”
This attempt at Courtly graces misfired rather. I said, “I am not Oriental! I’ve told you!”
Roddy snapped, “He prefers to be called Grundo! I’ve told you!” Then she whirled round on me and demanded, “Haven’t you any idea where Grandad’s been taken?”
Obvious, I thought. Land of the Dead. But she was in such a mood I didn’t say so. “I could try some divining,” I said. “I’ve got pretty good at that.”
“You do that,” she commanded, and whirled round on poor Dora again. “Auntie, Grundo’s very tired and hungry. Could you find him some supper? And I’m afraid we’ll both have to stay the night, unless the Progress is very near. Can you find Grundo a bed? Could he go in with Toby?”
I looked at this Grundo. He was a strange-looking kid with a hooked nose and a faceful of freckles, slightly older than Toby. He didn’t look particularly tired. He and Toby were giggling together because they both had salamanders sitting round their necks.