While Kit nursed his drink, the other two talked about the impending experiment and how to sabotage it. Eventually, they agreed on a plan and Cosimo said, “There is just one small thing that’s come up, and I’d welcome your advice, Sir Henry.”
“Of course, dear fellow. Anything. How can I be of service?”
“We seem to have lost someone on our way here,” said Cosimo. “A young lady friend of Kit’s has gone missing. It appears she followed Kit and failed to complete the crossing.”
“That is most unfortunate, I daresay.” The lord scientist clucked his tongue with disapproval. “What the devil was she playing at, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Sorry,” said Kit, speaking up. “It was all my fault. I was showing her about the leys and, well…” He gave a shrug of helpless ignorance. “I guess something went wrong.”
“So it would seem.” Sir Henry gave a questioning glance to Cosimo. “One would have thought you might have taken the proper precautions.”
“He has received no training from me,” replied Cosimo. “It seems he has picked up the knack on his own.”
This information caused Sir Henry’s eyebrows to rise sharply. “Ah-ha!” he said. “Our young chap is a prodigy? A natural?”
“I believe he is.”
“Runs in the family, I suppose.” Sir Henry turned an appraising gaze to Kit. “So much potential. I, for one, would not like to see it wasted.”
“He will be schooled, never fear,” said Cosimo with conviction.
“What about the young lady in question?”
“I know nothing about her whatsoever,” Cosimo said, turning to Kit.
“Please believe me when I say I didn’t know I was doing anything wrong,” said Kit in his own defence. “I only meant to show her what had happened to me and, well, it happened again. In any case, all I know is that we were together in the alley and then we weren’t. She’s my girlfriend-”
At Sir Henry’s puzzled expression, Cosimo interjected, “He means sweetheart.”
“Ah!” said Sir Henry. “Pray continue.”
“Wilhelmina’s gone, and I feel responsible,” concluded Kit. “I said I’d take care of her, but I lost her instead. We have to rescue her.”
“Find her we shall, sir! Never fear,” replied Sir Henry. “And once we have found her, the young lady will be returned to her place of origin-of that you may be sure.”
This made Kit feel better. “Then shouldn’t we start looking right away?”
“Indeed, sir. I stand ready to offer my fullest assistance.”
“As always,” said Cosimo, “your generosity runs far ahead of our request. We are most grateful.”
The nobleman waved aside the compliment. “Tosh, sir! Think nothing of it.”
“I was hoping you might have some idea about where we should start our search,” Cosimo continued.
“Of course. Tell me, exactly where did the young woman go missing?”
“On Stane Way,” answered Cosimo.
Sir Henry pursed his lips for a moment, then took a sip of port. After a moment’s reflection, he sighed and said, “Yes, well, it would have to be there, I suppose.”
“Is that bad?” asked Kit.
“Let us say that it will multiply the difficulty of our task inestimably.”
“Why is that?”
“Stane Way is a particularly old and active intersection,” began Cosimo.
“More circus than intersection!” offered Sir Henry. “There are at least five major crossings along that line-if not more. Your friend has presumably parted company with you at one of them. But consider the Stane ley as a corridor with doors opening to other rooms, do you see? Each of those other rooms has doors, and there is no telling where the doors from those other rooms might lead. In any case, I warn you,” he said sternly, his beard quivering at its point, “it will be dangerous. There are forces that wish us ill-”
“Like those men?” wondered Kit.
“We met Burley Men outside Sefton,” explained Cosimo.
“Ah!” confirmed Sir Henry. “So the enemy are nosing around again.”
“They know about my piece of the map.”
“Do they now!” exclaimed Sir Henry. “This changes everything.”
The nobleman grew reflective. Kit and Cosimo exchanged an uneasy glance. Sir Henry nodded to himself, then said, “I feel I must warn you both, Burley and his brutes are not the only danger we will face. There are others. Also,” he cautioned, “you must accept that it may not be a swift search. Such an undertaking will require a great deal of patience.”
Kit considered this. “Is there no way to speed up the search? Thing is, Wilhelmina’s not a very strong person. She is barely able to cope with normal life-something like this could kill her. I feel terrible about getting her involved, and if anything happens to her, it’ll be my fault.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how she’s going to survive on her own.”
“Be that as it may, we dare not rush headlong into a rescue,” replied Sir Henry. “Alea iacta est.”
“Sir?” wondered Kit.
“The die has been cast.”
“No kidding,” said Kit.
PART TWO
The Macau Tattau
CHAPTER 7
In Which Wilhelmina Lands on Her Feet
Stinging rain and a savage blast of wind left Wilhelmina standing in a muddy puddle gasping for breath. Wet to the skin, she smeared the water from her eyes with the back of her hand and looked around-instantly closing her eyes again: an instinctive reaction, the rational mind’s desperate attempt to maintain coherence in the face of a displacement so severe as to shatter reality to smithereens.
London had vanished.
In place of the lively, thrusting metropolitan conurbation was an empty rural wilderness of damp brown fields under low autumnal skies. In that briefest of glimpses, she had seen enough to know that whatever had happened to her threatened not only her perception of herself in the world, but sanity itself. In the grip of such a devastating shock, she did what anyone would do: she opened her mouth and screamed.
She put her head back and wailed, opening her soul to the sky, broadcasting her terror to the four winds. She screamed and kept on screaming until black spots danced before her eyes, and then she screamed again-loud, ragged, ugly bursts that rent the air and made her red in the face. When she could scream no more, she clenched her fists and stamped her feet, her boots splashing up mud from the trackway until, forces spent at last, she crumpled, subsiding into whimpers and moans, shedding tears for her fractured world.
Some part of her mind maintained a stubborn detachment, refusing to yield to the madness. Eventually, this practical awareness asserted itself, saying in effect: Get a grip, girl. You’ve had a nasty shock. Okay. So, what are you going to do about it? Sit all day in the mud and throw a tantrum like a two-year-old? It’s cold out here; you’ll freeze to death. Drag your wits together, and take charge!
Shaking water from her hands, she got to her knees and, placing a palm against her soggy bottom, looked around. Her quick survey confirmed that she was on a simple one-track lane in the midst of a bleak countryside of tended fields, and that she was very much alone. “Kit?” she called, but heard only the lonely call of a low-flying crow.
