her assessment without inferring it as critical of me.
'So, did the situation you were involved in get sorted out? Is that how you ended up in the river?'
This was the question she had manoeuvred Alex and Barry out of the room to ask, and I wondered how I could explain the events of the past days without telling her things that would only raise more questions than answers.
'I think it's safe to say it got resolved, Katherine. I don't think there is a threat to you or Alex any more, but it's made me look at my life in a whole new light. Things are going to have to change, that much I do know. In many ways they already have.'
'You do seem different,' she remarked, 'but I still don't understand how you ended up in the river. Did you fall from a bridge? Did someone throw you in?'
'No. It's very complicated and the less you know about it, the better, but you can trust me when I say I had no intention of ending up swimming in the Thames.' I could say that in the knowledge that there had never been any possibility of swimming with the hammer slung across my shoulder — besides, I had been in the Fleet, not the Thames.
'I'm not sure I like these secrets, Niall, not when Alex and I are involved.'
'You're not involved. I worked very hard to make sure you stayed out of it. And I'm not the only one with secrets, am I?'
'Well I just hope that there's an end to it, whatever it was.'
Blackbird appeared, closely followed by a nurse who straightened the bed, took my temperature again and updated the chart on the end of my bed. Then Alex reappeared and I was treated to a full description of her trip abroad, including the aeroplane, the hotel, the city and all she'd seen and done.
The description was more of a monologue than a conversation, though both Katherine and Barry were solicited for opinions on whether something was 'awesome' or simply 'cool'. She asked me about the needle in my arm and then asked whether Blackbird dyed her hair and then she got to wondering whether anything would really happen if she pressed the buttons behind the bed.
Eventually Katherine declared that I must be tired and, despite protestations from Alex that I couldn't be tired as I had only just woken up, she was shepherded out with promises that she could return the next day if I wasn't discharged.
'That,' I remarked to Blackbird when they had gone, 'is a real incentive to feel better.'
'She was worried about you.'
'Yes, I know. And I do appreciate her concern. But she's so full of life, sometimes, she wears me down.'
'And she's only one,' she reminded me, walking around to sit beside me on the edge of the bed.
I grimaced, but then smiled at the thought of what was to come.
'The doctor says the water has cleared from your lungs and with the amount of antibiotics they pumped into you, I shouldn't think you'll get any infection for years.'
'I don't think it works like that,' I told her.
'Really?' The corner of her lips turned up in that half-smile and she tilted her head sideways, slightly.
'Don't tease. I'm not up to teasing yet.'
'Oh? And here was me hoping you might be up to a little more than light teasing in a day or so.'
'I've only just regained consciousness,' I reminded her.
'Actually you were conscious that night, for a short while. You've recovered really quickly. The doctors are already wondering at your rate of recovery. You were off the oxygen after twelve hours and have been improving ever since.'
'Is that your doing?'
'No, water really isn't my thing. It's your body that's changing. Just look at your hands. When they brought you in, they were covered in cuts. They put several stitches into your fingers. That was less than two days ago. Now you would think the scars are months old. Fortunately, the nice lady doctor says some people stick together well, and you're one of them. Still, you've given even her pause for thought.'
'Do you think I should play sick for a while?'
'No, I think you should get yourself out of their sight as soon as possible. You don't want to show them any more than you need to. Seriously, if I'd realised you would heal this quickly, I wouldn't have called an ambulance.'
'Where else can I go? The flat is still torn apart from Solandre's visit and I doubt the police will let anyone near it until they've completed their forensics.'
'Well, that's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. I can't go back to being Veronica, other than for a short while to quietly sort out her life and give her an excuse to disappear. I think you know now that going back to your job isn't really a possibility.'
'What am I going to do for money? I have Alex and Katherine to support, and if you're not going back to the university then neither of us has a job.'
'What's that?' asked Blackbird. She tensed, suddenly deeply concerned.
A noise came from beyond the door to the corridor outside, like a pendulum tick, slowly increasing in volume. It had a sharp metallic quality and a frequency that matched a steady walking pace. It slowed as it approached my door and Blackbird stood, facing the door, body set. The door opened slowly and a tall gentleman wearing a dark grey jacket over a black T-shirt and charcoal trousers stood in the doorway.
His eyes swept the room before he entered, taking in each detail, reminding me of the way the quiet policeman had assessed the room, except he didn't look much like a policeman. He looked like a bouncer.
TWENTY-NINE
The tall man entered, stepping sideways, leaving the door wide and placing the wall behind him. His manner was professional and he carried an expression of faint amusement, as if he were aware of a private joke he was unable to share. His hair was short and his ears stuck out slightly. In his hand was a dark wooden stave, about as tall as his shoulder. The top was ornamented with a decorative silver cap and the base was shod with steel. It slid downwards through his hand, tapping sharply as the tip struck the tiles beside his feet. It was an easy movement showing long familiarity.
'You are Niall Petersen and Blackbird of the Fey'ree.' It wasn't a question. 'I am Warder Garvin. I bring you the felicitations of the Lords and Ladies of the Seven Courts and request that you stand before them before sunset today.'
'A request?' I asked him.
'It's a formality,' Blackbird said. Her stance said that she knew this fellow. 'They want to see us today.'
'Will you come?'
I looked at Blackbird.
'Where?' she asked.
'There's an address in Soho Square on this slip of paper.'
He untucked a scrap of paper from his pocket and leaned forward to place it on the bed. 'Be there an hour after noon. We'll take you the rest of the way.'
'We?' I asked.
'I brought reinforcements, in case there was trouble. Tate?' He smiled, tipping his head towards the door without taking his eyes from us.
The doorway darkened and in it stood a huge bear of a man. The way he filled the doorway reminded me of how Gramawl had filled the tunnel below Covent Garden. He had the same bulk, as if he had to lean down to pass through the limited opening. His long hair was gathered back in a clasp and he had a grizzled beard. Grey eyes regarded us from beneath bushy eyebrows. He also wore the dark uniform.
'Trouble?' he asked. His voice was resonant and low, rich like chocolate and not in the least bit perturbed. If there was trouble, he wasn't concerned.
Garvin glanced over at us and then shook his head. 'No. We'll see you in Soho Square.'
'What if we're held up?' I asked.
