XLV

I’m kinda stressed out this afternoon, body aching all over, but I still meet up with Priya in the coffee shop on Elm Row for a wee debrief. Since I’m skint, insolvent, broke, indigent, she’s paying. I order a mocha with marshmallows sprinkled on top to get my kick. Priya’s looking dapper with her leg and arm casts. Says she has bruised ribs too. For some reason, though, Priya’s all energized, like she’s got a buzz out of the whole thing. Her eyes are bright and full of mischief.

‘I wish I’d been there,’ she says, after I tell her about Gorgie Farm, Siobhan, the kids, what Siobhan said about the Tall Man, all of it.

‘No, you really don’t,’ I say. ‘Anyway, what do you think I should do with this?’

I bring out the accursed lab flask from my bag and place it on the table. It looks beautiful and ordinary now, without its vile contents. But part of me is repulsed, because I know what it’s been used for. It’s a reminder of what has been done to innocent little children. I don’t find the scattering light passing through the crystal seductive at all.

‘You shall form a fellowship and travel east to Mordor, and there cast it into the fires of Mount Doom where it was forged,’ Priya faux-quotes in a fake baritone voice and laughs.

‘Hilarious,’ I say, keeping a straight face.

‘Come on, finish your drink. We’re meeting Jomo on Calton Hill. He’ll come out when he’s finished his shift,’ she says.

I push my bike, walking beside Priya in a new wheelchair. It’s an electric one, and she tells me she’s had it for ages, but seldom uses it because it’s not great for exercise. She prefers a manual chair but is forced to use this one since she’s only got one arm at the moment — ‘I’d be going round in circles all day if I tried to do it one-handed.’

‘Can I hop in again?’ I jest.

‘Only in emergencies.’ She laughs. ‘Text Jomo to let him know we’re coming.’

‘I’m way ahead of you on that one.’

We make it to the top of the hill in time to catch the setting sun. Across the valley, smoke rises from the campfires in Camelot, and I picture bearded men squatted round boiling kettles. Clumps of snow remain tucked in the grass. They have a glassy look and will be joining the meltwater streams soon. We wait by the pillars of the unfinished temple, watching birds fly and the clouds drift through the sky.

Jomo comes out from behind the third pillar in due course, looking smart in his uniform. He opens his arms wide, cheesy grin on his face.

‘Ropamatic and Priyasaurus,’ he says.

‘How come I’m the prehistoric one?’ Priya asks.

‘Because Ropa’s the daddy – she’s swimming in the green stuff.’ Jomo reaches into the pockets of his white vestments and brings out a wad of cash, which he hands over to me.

‘What’s all this?’ I ask, startled.

‘Rob says that’s your half from the sale of the milk float. He seemed pretty impressed with all this. Actually, I hope you don’t take offence – as I know you don’t do that stuff no more – but he says you can call him any time for a job.’

‘Nae chance,’ I say, splitting the bundle of cash three ways.

The big band of stress that had tightened around my chest releases and I can breathe again, stop worrying about having to leave HMS Hermiston and find new digs. This more than covers my rent arrears. I make to hand Priya and Jomo their share of it and they shake their heads in unison.

‘I’ve already got a job that pays really well, thank you very much,’ Priya says.

‘And I’ve got a job that’s not paying me at all, but I live at home – what do I need all that for?’ says Jomo with a shrug.

‘This was a team effort, guys. You’ve earned your cut,’ I say, offering the money again. It’s the principle.

‘You can buy us dinner tonight, how about that?’ Priya says.

‘I’m all for that. There’s a really cool ice-cream parlour on the Mile that I’ve been wanting to go to forever,’ Jomo says, lighting up like a little kid.

‘Clearly you and I have very different definitions of what constitutes dinner,’ Priya replies drily. ‘Go get changed out of that. We’ll meet you at the bottom of the hill.’

‘Don’t leave without me,’ Jomo says, dashing behind the pillar. He pokes his head out just before he heads back down to the library and adds, ‘Oh, and Rooster Rob says you owe the Clan now, for looking after the kids.’

‘I already figured,’ I say as he vanishes through the crack.

Me and Priya are making our way down the path, past the empty stand where the old cannon used to be, when we spot Callander coming up the stairs. He puffs, out of breath, and uses the handrail for support. That is, until he sees us and straightens up. It costs him quite a bit of effort to reach us.

‘Ladies,’ Callander says in his old-fashioned way. He looks Priya over. ‘What happened to you, Miss Kapoor?’

‘I fell,’ she replies.

‘Hmm, and what about your face, Miss Moyo?’

‘I fell too,’ I reply.

‘I should think both of you ought to be more careful in future.’

‘Go on. Give it to him,’ Priya says.

I open my backpack and take out the lab flask. The crystal scatters the light of the setting sun as I hand it over to Callander. He holds it close to his face and turns it round as though inspecting a precious antique. A grunt escapes his throat.

‘This is a corrupt replica of the Gray’s intromissioner, itself an ingenious remodelling of the simple Erlenmeyer flask. It was an experimental device used by healers during the Great War, to try and save troops who were too far gone for conventional treatments. The idea was to transfer the vital force from fit soldiers to their ailing comrades – using magical science, of course. But it was discontinued because the results for the patients were poor and the side effects for donors deemed unacceptable. But it should never have been allowed in the first place – the practice was abhorrent. So I’m concerned as to why you have this one. Does it have something to do with those missing children you came to me about, Miss Moyo?’

I bite my tongue, because I want to say, ‘Yeah, the ones you refused to help,’ but I hold my peace. Priya nods when Callander looks at her instead.

Callander throws the flask up into the air, but it doesn’t fall. It stays hovering against the orange sky as he holds out his hands and slowly brings them together. The flask makes a high-pitched screeching sound – and then it implodes, just as Callander’s hands clap together. The vile thing is now dust to be scattered in the wind. It will never be used to hurt anyone again.

‘I heard news of a strange fire that raged through the night on Gorgie Farm,’ Callander adds. ‘They say firefighters couldn’t put it out until everything was burnt to a cinder. Strange lights were seen in its depths and they found the curious remains of a lab within. Does this have anything to do with that? The Society will be looking into it, naturally,’ Callander says, turning back to us gravely. ‘A charred body was found there too. What do you ladies know of it?’

Priya opens her mouth, but I cut in quickly. ‘Nothing whatsoever,’ I reply.

‘That’s a lie, but it’s the correct answer. Discretion is the better part of valour in this age we’re living in. You’ve done well,’ he says. ‘Come with me, both of you. We have much to discuss.’

‘Nah, maybe another time,’ I say. Priya’s eyebrows pop up in no small amount of astonishment, while Callander remains expressionless. ‘We’ve already got plans for tonight after a tough few days. Come on, Priya, the ice cream’s melting.’

Priya cringes and starts up her wheelchair, slowly setting off. I stand there for an extra second, with Callander glowering, before his face softens a fraction. He nods and puts his hands behind his back, swallowing his exasperation.

‘I expect you’ll be in touch at your earliest possible convenience,’ he says.

‘That scarf you gave me – it keeps my neck real warm,’ I say.

‘That’s what scarves are supposed to do. The hard part is keeping your head on your shoulders,’ he replies, turning away and continuing towards the pillars.

Priya’s still got the cringe written all over her face when I catch up with her, but her grimace transforms into a half-smile.

‘You’ve got balls the size of kettlebells, I’ll give you that,’ she says.

‘So do you,’ I reply.

‘You know, I was wondering – who on earth is this Tall Man, anyway?’ Priya asks.

‘I don’t know, Siobhan must have been delirious at the end. She was thinking of her Midnight Milkman, I reckon. He was pretty tall.’

‘But she’d already offed him, so . . .’ she says.

‘Screw it. I’ve had enough of all that. Let’s go get ice cream, man. I want a whole tub of cookies and cream flavour to myself. With sprinkles . . . And hot fudge, no, make that a caramel topping. Or both, I’ll have both.’

I don’t wanna think about anything to do with this anyway. We won, Siobhan’s dead and can’t hurt any more kids, end of. I’m well zonked here and fed up with all this stress. I’ve got my life back and now I’m gonna have ice cream with my new bestie and my day one. After that, I’ll go home and hang out with my two favourite girls and my super-cool vulpine companion.

My life’s brilliant, if I do say so myself. I hope that it will stay that way for a while too.