Modern Magick

Alchemy and Argent: 16

'Crystobel Elvyng,' I hissed. 'She's been here.'

Jay held up his hands. 'Hang on. Maybe there's another explanation.'

'If so, that would have to be a huge coincidence.'

'Coincidences do happen. That's why there's a word for it.'

'All right.'

'And why would Crystobel take it away?'

'She knows I was up here, and didn't want us to examine it further.'

'How would she know that?'

I opened my mouth, and paused. 'Um. Someone saw me?'

Jay shrugged. 'Or it has nothing to do with Crystobel.'

'Why would people randomly move paintings around?'

'Not at random. I can't say I paid much attention to the relative positions of the Academy's paintings in my day, but there are rather a lot of them. And they're sensitive to light damage, as you well know. The more prominent positions also tend to be well-lit, and no painting can be safely left in strong light for long.'

'I still think it's a huge coincidence.'

'Take heart. I might be proved wrong, and you can hare after the perfidious Crystobel after all, Wand raised to destroy.'

I didn't miss his use of the singular pronoun. This was one wild escapade I'd be going on alone. 'So,' I said. 'Where do you suppose it might have been taken to?'

'Somewhere more prominent,' said Jay, turning on his heel as he spoke, and marching out of the garret again. Back down the stairs we went, down and down — and found the portrait, inevitably, in the main hallway, right over the fireplace.

'We walked straight past it,' I said, tasting bitter chagrin. 'What's worse, it might even be our fault that it's been moved down here. Val was asking the tour guide about Cicily, and she was the one who told us about the portrait. They're probably responding to visitor interest.'

'I'll get you a hair shirt to wear when we get back,' Jay promised. 'In the meantime: what was it you were planning to do with it?'

We stood in front of the fireplace in the darkened hall, both of us staring dumbly up at Cicily's face. We hadn't wanted to advertise our presence by switching on lights, and Cicily looked eerier than ever in the faint, harsh glow emitted by our phone screens. She'd seemed welcoming before, but now...

I shrugged off the thought. 'We need to take her outside,' I said, and before Jay could (wisely) stop me, I'd reached up and plucked the portrait off the wall.

I paused for a breathless second, just in case some kind of magickal alarm sounded and brought a vengeful Rina Patel bursting in upon us (not to mention my new favourite nemesis, Crystobel).

When nothing happened, I turned triumphantly to the front door. 'Open, please,' I said, either to Jay or to the door, whichever felt disposed to answer.

As it happens, it was the door. Jay moved to open it for me, but already it was in creaking motion, and moonlight came streaming in.

Once outside, I stood looking up at the serene heavens. It was just about fully dark, and the clear skies were bathed in moonglow. 'It would be a bit more perfect were it full moon,' I said. 'But three-quarters ought to do.' Carefully, carefully — do not drop it, Cordelia Vesper, or there will never be enough hair-shirts in the world for you — I turned the painting face up to the moonlight, wrapping all ten fingers around the frame. 'Come on,' I muttered. 'Time to fizz.'