71

In my pocket, my phone buzzes. Screeching down the waterfront doesn’t seem like the best time to take a call. Then Tabitha pulls alongside us, gesticulating wildly with her phone.

Side by side the cars peel down the road. Devon is letting out a keening yell of excitement and terror. Cars lean on their horns and spin out of our way.

I fish for my phone and smell something ugly. The flaming sword is melting its way through the passenger door. I somehow wrestle it away and settle for plunging it through the window. Collision glass shatters, spills in our wake. A thousand glittering glass beads flash with reflected firelight.

My phone continues buzzing. Tabitha continues gesticulating. Just more angrily.

Devon swerves. A car whines past, clips our wing mirror. I introduce my head to the doorframe. I come up, head ringing.

I make another attempt to flip open the phone. Instead I drop it, curse, wrestle with the scabbard; almost neuter myself; set myself on fire; pat it out; finally slot the sword away; and then beat my head rhythmically against the glove compartment while I try and get my phone back.

Finally I grab it, take the call.

“We’re going,” Tabitha snaps. “Where?”

I pull the list from my pocket. I stare. Six addresses. I look at my watch. 5:17 p.m.

“Address,” Tabitha demands, steering violently away to avoid a motorbike’s kamikaze run. I think the bike’s rider was covering her eyes.

“Give me a minute.”

“Reality. Not having enough time left to spare you a minute.”

Devon slams us up onto the sidewalk. A trashcan explodes over the windscreen. I get to really regret having shattered the window.

Six addresses. Scattered across London. Think. I need to think.

We put the message in the East London Advertiser. That makes two of the addresses more likely. The first place they hit was the Natural History Museum. They’re going to target Big Ben.

I really wish my sense for London’s geography was better.

If I pick wrong…

If I pick wrong then we’re going to need to get to Big Ben really fast.

“Thirty-five Redman’s Road,” I say. And then I pray I’m right.