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‘Are you all right?’ Kai said softly.
There might have been a time when Irene would have said, No, I’m not, and shut her eyes for just a few minutes. But it was not now, and definitely not in front of Bradamant. She swallowed, and tried not to breathe the air more than she could help. ‘I will manage,’ she said curtly. ‘Thank you.’
‘Your cloak, Miss Winters,’ Vale said, draping it over her shoulders. She must have been dangerously distracted, as he’d retrieved it without her noticing. She made a note to be more careful, and filed it along with all the other notes to be more precise, more attentive, less squeamish, and less inclined to curl up and cry on someone’s shoulder.
Inspector Singh clicked his heels together, half-bowed, and turned away with Bradamant, staying a very precise half-foot away from her. Bradamant didn’t look back as she followed him.
Outside, on the steps of the Liechtenstein Embassy, there was a mob of photographers, reporters and interested parties. Street vendors were even selling roasted chestnuts, doughnuts and candied peanuts. Their fragrance blended with the taint of Irene’s bloodstained dress, and she had to struggle not to be sick.
‘Did you see the elder Miss Retrograde leave?’ Kai asked.
Irene shook her head. ‘I saw her alive at the end, but didn’t see her go. I suppose she may be useful. If she knows something.’
Vale came to a sharp halt, looking down at her. ‘The elder Miss Retrograde? Miss Olga Retrograde?’
‘That was the lady in question,’ Irene said. ‘Is there something that we should know about her, sir?’
‘Only that she’s the biggest society blackmailer in London,’ Vale said. ‘The lady is extremely well known for knowing things. The unfortunate thing is that what she knows is rarely advantageous to anyone except herself. As to your acquaintance with her . . .’
‘It was the first time we’d met,’ Irene said hastily. The curl of Vale’s lip made his opinion of the lady extremely clear. ‘She realized that we weren’t Canadians.’
Vale snorted, and turned away to signal a cab.
‘Do you think we’ll have a problem?’ Kai murmured.
‘We’re probably the least likely people in that room to have a problem with her,’ Irene answered, equally quietly. ‘After all, what can she blackmail us with?’
Kai laughed. ‘True.’
‘Over here!’ Vale called. One of the swarming cabs had answered his uplifted hand. They had to elbow their way to it through the edges of the crowd, avoiding reporters with notebooks and cameras. Vale drew the shade across the window as they set off.
‘Do you expect us to be watched?’ Irene asked.
‘It seems likely, Miss Winters,’ Vale answered. ‘In my own defence, I will say that I am not unknown to the criminal section of London – nor them to me. But since I have not attempted to hide my identity, we may as well return to my lodgings directly.’
Irene nodded, settling back into her seat. The passenger compartment of the cab had two wide leather-covered benches facing each other. Its basic structure was similar to that of a classical hansom carriage, but it was electric-powered rather than horse-drawn, and built of metal rather than wood. She’d been in hansoms before now, and it was strange to be in something so close to one without hearing the sound of hoofbeats. ‘About your friend,’ Vale said, leaning forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. The cab jolted as it turned a corner. ‘Do you think Silver’s accusations regarding her identity are correct?’
Irene would have liked to meet his eyes and unflinchingly deny it, but she honestly didn’t think it would work. She wondered how much Vale might have deduced about Bradamant, simply from their brief meeting. It was the sort of thing that she would expect him to do. ‘I wish that I knew myself,’ she finally said. ‘I hadn’t thought that she’d been in London,’ or in this alternate, ‘long enough to have done such a thing. And I can’t think why she’d do it!’
‘It is a common enough technique,’ Vale said austerely, ‘to establish a pattern of thefts in order to conceal a single one. If she was planning to steal that book, then she could also have been the perpetrator of those early thefts to camouflage its significance.’
Irene considered that idea. It sounded uncomfortably plausible. ‘But why would Bradamant have needed to hide the theft?’ she said out loud. After all, Bradamant herself could have just left the alternate immediately after stealing the book. But did she want the book for herself, or was she seeking it for the Library? She was here without authorization . . . Irene’s blood went cold. Could Bradamant have turned traitor to the Library?
Kai was only a step behind her. ‘But if she was trying to hide her theft from us as well as the authorities—’ he began.
Vale frowned. He raised a hand to interrupt Kai. ‘A moment, please, Mr Strongrock. Driver!’ He hammered with the head of his cane on the roof of the carriage. ‘Driver! Why are we going this way?’
Irene pulled back the window shade. She couldn’t recognize the buildings going past outside, but they were clearly on a main street. ‘I think we’re going faster,’ she began, then yelped in shock as chaotic power flared across the window. She managed to snatch her fingers back just in time before it could touch them. Across the carriage, Kai flinched back from the window on his side, bumping into Vale.
‘Driver!’ Vale shouted. ‘What is going on?’
The cab jolted as it speeded up again. ‘The name is Alberich,’ a voice called from above, audible over the rattling of the wheels and the creaking of the carriage. ‘I suggest you ask your friends what that means, Mr Vale.’
Irene was conscious that she’d probably gone pale, but she was too busy trying not to shake with sheer terror to spend much time bothering about it. She couldn’t handle this – she couldn’t – her hand was still infected – this was Alberich, the Alberich, the one who had been cast out of the Library, there was no way she could handle this . . .
‘Brace, Miss Winters,’ Vale instructed Kai, then kicked out at the door with a coiled strength that should have burst it open.
It didn’t. The door stayed firmly in position, and the walls of the cab flexed with it as if it was a continuous part of the cab’s structure. Vale recoiled into his seat, thrown back by his own force, and bit back a muffled oath.
