The Great Ellini (Book One of The Powder Trail)

Chapter Sixty Two: Shattered

They stayed out for another half-hour, finishing off the contents of Jack's hipflask, and then climbed back in through the window of the Faculty Lounge, still giggling and jubilant.

Jack had slipped his coat over Ellini's shoulders because the Charlotte Grey dress, practical as it may have been for night-time climbing, did not conform to the standards of drawing-room modesty. He didn't want Alice to get out the etiquette book again.

When they got in, they found Sergei and Danvers already sitting at the table, waiting for them.

They had been waiting happily enough, he could tell. Neither of them were really the type for rampant jealousy. Sergei was drinking schnapps and toying with the pieces of clay from Ellini's half-assembled doll, which had been left out on the table. Beside him, Danvers was drumming his fingers on the tabletop, and casting the occasional wistful glance at the bottle. Sarah was there too—ostensibly dusting the bookshelves, although he could tell her heart wasn't really in it.

Sergei and Danvers got to their feet, partly out of chivalry, because a lady had just entered the room, but mainly out of nervous excitement, as though Jack and Ellini's enthusiasm was infectious. Danvers was absent-mindedly rotating his hat-brim in his hands.

There were shouts of 'At last!' and 'What time do you call this?' Sarah even blurted out "We were so bloody worried!" and then clapped her hands over her mouth, horrified that she'd just sworn in front of the gentlemen.

Jack grinned and scooped her up by the waist, waltzed her once around the room, and then let go, sending her spinning into a bookcase.

"And well you should have been, Sarah," he said, in his most dramatic voice. "Those gargoyles are eight feet tall, with pointed ears, needle-like teeth and six-inch claws! They can climb sheer walls like spiders, and they're strong enough to push a chimneystack on top of you if you stand still too long. At one point, I slipped on a loose slate, rolled all the way down the roof, and ended up hanging by one hand from the gutter over a fifty-foot drop! Not only that, but the gargoyle was just above me, trying to sniff me out. I knew it'd only be a matter of time before he swiped out with his claws and cut my hand off at the wrist!"

Sarah giggled excitably, and Danvers was suitably awed. "Whatever did you do?" he demanded.

"Ah, well, this is the clever bit," said Jack, indicating Ellini, who was standing, quiet and smiling, by the window. "This deceptively innocent-looking creature had furnished me with phials of sandalwood oil, for throwing the gargoyles off the scent. With my one free hand, I took a phial out of my belt and dropped it into the courtyard below me. Then I managed to lower myself into a window recess just underneath the gutter. The gargoyle followed the scent from the courtyard, obviously thinking I'd fallen. He climbed down right past me. We were literally nose-to-nose. I could see into the hollow sockets where his eyes should've been."

Sarah made a noise of disgust, and Danvers gasped. Even Sergei was smiling, in his gentle, rueful way.

"As soon as he'd passed, I hauled myself back onto the roof and ran off in the opposite direction," said Jack. "Took him half an hour to pick up my scent again." He grinned, and added, "By which point, I'd got my breath back, and was ready to make a fool of him a second time."

"So you had a good time, then?" said Sergei, raising his eyebrows.

"Good?" Jack echoed. "We were running for our lives—we were inches from death at any given moment—we were pushed to the very limits of our endurance. It was wonderful!"

"And would Miss Syal endorse that statement?"

Ellini was still beaming. She had nervously plunged her hands into the pockets of Jack's coat. She opened her mouth to reply, but Jack didn't give her the chance.