The Fifth Britain: 10

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I sent a few messages to Miranda after that, mostly variations on the general theme of why?

To my regret, but not to my surprise, she did not answer any of them.

By the next morning, it was official: Miranda had gone. Rob brought us a copy of the Society's internal memo on the subject.

I winced upon reading it. Milady was most seriously displeased.

Miranda Evans is no longer a member of this Society. The circumstances of her departure are not for public dissemination. Let it be known, however, that any and all communication with Ms. Evans is strongly discouraged.

There was more, but not much. I pictured the icy fury with which Milady had penned the missive (or dictated it, she being incorporeal and all) and shuddered.

It did raise an interesting question, though. Had Miranda corrupted anybody else, prior to her departure? I could only assume that was the fear lurking behind Milady's prohibition on communication. We none of us wished to lose any more people to Ancestria Magicka.

I'd had to field a string of messages from Indira, too. She had discovered Jay's absence by way of several failed and unanswered phone calls and was cheerfully freaking out about him. Since I was in much the same state, albeit more secretly, there was not much I could do to reassure her. I could not even say for sure that George Mercer's offer was still open, not after he and Zareen had so obviously fallen out over Miranda.

Difficult morning. I treated my nerves to an extra helping of chocolate from Milady's wonderful pot, recruited my strength with some of Mrs. Amberstone's best pancakes, and boosted my confidence with a change of hair colour. Maybe it sounds frivolous, but try it before you judge me.

I stepped out a little later, tossing my parti-coloured hair (cream at the top and daffodil-yellow at the bottom, with a smooth ombre fade in between). I was beginning to lose my patience with this particular mess, and it was high time we sorted it out.

I found Zareen in much the same frame of mind. A solid ten hours of sleep had restored her colour somewhat, and she looked much nearer her old self when she opened her door. 'Plan?' she said.

'Find Jay.' I ticked off point one on my fingers. 'Find out what that isle of Melmidoc's is about. Figure out what the bloody hell has got into Miranda and fix it. Discover the source of the Dappledok pups and fix that, too. And find out once and for all where in space or time those houses are going to when they vanish.' I ticked them all off on my fingers, using rather more fingers in the process than I was hoping.

'That's a wish list,' said Zareen. 'What's the plan?'

'No bloody clue.'

'Right, then. Situation normal.' Zareen grabbed her jacket, stuffed her feet into her boots and fell in beside me as I made for the stairs.

'The party's at seven,' Zareen said, checking the time. 'We've got ten hours until then. Pick a place to start?'

'Baron Alban.'

'Needing a little eye candy?'

'Always, but that's not it this time. Val's drawn a blank on Melmidoc's isle as far as our library goes, and Mauf has nothing for us either. We need another resource, and I can't think of a better one than the library at the Troll Courts. Can you?'

'I can punch George in the face until he consents to check their records for us.'

'Think that'll work?'

'No. And anyway, I'd have to tell him all about the isle first, and we sort of agreed not to do that.'

'Right. Plan forming. Part one in progress.' I composed another message to Miranda and sent it before I could change my mind.

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