Aubrey watched his father stride off, charging to a battle of his own.
Caroline squeezed his arm. ‘George wants you.’
George was at the Big Board, with Sophie. He was waving. Aubrey glanced at Craddock and Tallis, but they’d been besieged by half a dozen document-carrying operatives.
‘Look, old man,’ George said when Aubrey and Caroline joined him. ‘Just in case you were thinking of nipping off to Finley Moor, I thought I’d let you know we’ll have trouble.’
‘Finley Moor? Why would I be thinking of going to Finley Moor?’
‘I’m imagining that you might be feeling the need to find an ornithopter. I wouldn’t be surprised if jolly soon we’re going to be cutting corners, avoiding protocols, leapfrogging obstacles, that sort of thing.’
‘And why would you imagine that?’
‘Standard operating procedure with you, old man. All I’m saying is that we’re ready when you are, but we won’t be able to get to Finley Moor the usual way by going through Carstairs. The 12th Lancers are using Marling Road. We’d never get through.’
Aubrey was impressed by George’s planning out a route to the military airfield, but then something else took his attention. Looking down on the Big Board had jolted him, so much detail presenting itself. It was easy to imagine he was in Dr Tremaine’s skyfleet, looking down on the sprawling expanse of Trinovant – the city, the river, the railways, spreading over the countryside. He could see all the landmarks, the urban conglomeration stretched out for him to survey.
Something was missing. Something vital, something important wasn’t there, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He swept his gaze across Newbourne, The Mire, Densmore, Ashfields Station, but he still didn’t know what it was.
When he found Fielding Cross, he looked for where Maidstone would be. It was when he found the location for the Fitzwilliam family home that it struck him and he knew what was missing.
People. He couldn’t see any people. The city was there, but none of the individuals who made it work and live and breathe. They weren’t important enough to feature.
The ‘click’ that rocked Aubrey was so monumental that he had to grab the edge of the table to stop being thrown off his feet. ‘Oh no,’ he whispered. ‘Oh no.’
Caroline pressed close. ‘Aubrey?’
‘It’s worse than I thought.’ He straightened and found that his hands were trembling. Caroline took them and they stopped. ‘Dr Tremaine has found something better than the Ritual of the Way.’
‘You said he was going to use the collective consciousness of Trinovant to make his magic more powerful.’
‘That’s right – but I’ve been neglecting the sacrifice.’ He put a hand to his temple. ‘The Ritual of the Way needed blood, huge amounts of it. Dr Tremaine wants to make sure of achieving his goal of immortality, though, so he’s going one step further.’
‘What’s one step further than a wholesale blood sacrifice?’
‘Dr Tremaine is getting ready to snuff out the consciousness of everyone in Trinovant.’
72
Craddock was stony-faced when Aubrey shared his insight. Tallis swore, loudly enough to make all the people in the room look his way before hastily returning to their business. ‘We have squads ready to board Tremaine’s fleet and take him,’ he said, ‘as long as that magic whatnot is available. Craddock?’
Craddock eyed Aubrey. ‘We’ve had magical teams at work on altitude enhancements in order to get our aircraft up to Tremaine’s skyfleet. The notes you left about your levitation escapade in Lutetia last year have been helpful.’
‘Ah. I may have something to add to that.’
‘You’ll have a chance to implement it in person, then.’
‘Sir?’
‘When I said that we were throwing everything at Tremaine, that’s what I meant. Is your unit able to go?’
Aubrey went to speak, but first looked to his friends. They were ready: he could see it. They were steady, determined, unfazed by the possibilities that lay ahead, and he knew he was lucky to have them as friends.
Aubrey saluted. ‘Sirs. Permission to depart.’
‘Permission granted,’ Craddock said. ‘And godspeed.’
73
The journey to Finley Moor airfield would have been impossible if not for Commander Tallis’s suggestion to use motorcycles instead of a motorcar. After a side trip to the Armourer and the Magic Chandler to equip them for their mission, Aubrey and his friends raced out of the rear of Darnleigh House to find the sleek machines waiting with motors running and sidecars attached. George leaped into the saddle, tested the throttle and, with one hand, managed to strap on the helmet that the motor mechanic thrust at him. Sophie was ready in the sidecar before he was, goggles and helmet in place. She thumped the cowling with impatience.
Aubrey hesitated in front of the other motorcycle. ‘Do you want to drive?’
Caroline studied the machine with interest. ‘I’ve never ridden a motorcycle.’
‘I thought it might be one of your hidden talents. A friend of your mother’s hairdresser was an international motorcycle champion and taught you in a few lessons.’
‘It isn’t, but I’m willing to try.’
‘I’m sure you are.’ Aubrey took the helmet from the motor mechanic and slung his rifle on his back. ‘Normally, I’d say yes, but I don’t think this is the time for experimenting.’
Despite her heavy backpack, Caroline leaped easily into the sidecar. She tucked her hair up under her helmet. Her eyes shone through the goggles. ‘With all speed, Aubrey, let us go.’
The roads were extremely quiet until they came to within a few miles of Finley Moor. Then it looked as if every lorry, wagon, motorcar or dog cart capable of carrying men, women or equipment was pushing toward the military airfield. Aubrey held his breath and followed George’s lead as his friend swerved, wove, and roared his way through the traffic, using footpaths, verges and gutters as much as the heavily populated tarmac. Generously, George gave pedestrians a chance to show their agility as the motorcycles sped by in a manner that would, in normal circumstances, have had a dozen constables chasing them.
As their tyres shrieked in a particularly violent piece of cornering, leaving a lamp post almost unscathed, Aubrey risked a glance at Caroline. The sidecar had one wheel off the ground, but she clung on, smiling broadly.
Aubrey had time – in such moments, he could think very quickly – to imagine a future where he and Caroline could spend time careering about on motorcycles. It was a joyous enough image to make him all the more determined to bring the war to an end. If a beautiful and exhilarated sweetheart on a motorcycle wasn’t worth fighting for, what was?
He twitched the handgrips to avoid striking the gutter, took another glance to see Caroline looking straight at him. She tried to look stern, failed, then jabbed a finger straight ahead, mouthing, ‘Keep your eyes on the road.’
Easier said than done, he thought. When you have the choice of Caroline Hepworth or anything else in the world to look at, the world loses out. Except – he bared his teeth, leaned and swerved around a flat-tyred lorry that had stopped in the middle of the road – when imminent death needs attention.
A mile out and they abandoned the road altogether. They hurtled along the grass verge that separated the road from the chain wire fence of the airfield, dodging road signs and, once, leaping over an open drain in a feat that momentarily made Aubrey’s heart lodge somewhere behind his Adam’s apple.
