Sniffing the contents of her test tubes, Mathilde prompts Kate to give us an update. We hadn’t planned to meet up this evening, but Kate sent a message earlier demanding we clear our schedules. “Ok, Kate, we’re dying to know what happened.”
Nodding in encouragement, I take a sip of my drink, reassured to find the smoke is more dry ice and less fiery hot. I must have been thinking about H when I ordered it. After our last drinks evening, I didn’t dare invite him along.
Setting her glass onto the table, Kate focuses her attention on us. “I have so much to tell, but let me start at the beginning, ok? When we last met up, I promised to visit Lady Mary Hall and Iffley College this week. Not that we doubted you, Mathilde, but I can reconfirm that Iffley is completely without access to the magical field. They’re having their own problems with crime, now that the magical protections are no longer working. A portrait has gone missing, if you can believe it.”
“Dr Radcliffe mentioned it this morning. Is it worth much?” I ask.
“A hundred thousand pounds or so.”
My drink turns over in my stomach. That is a lot of money.
Rubbing at the line between her eyes, Kate murmurs, “I’m trying not to stress about it. There are three more portraits in the area. When we reactivate the magic, I’m certain one of them will have information to share on the culprit. It is a relatively new acquisition, so I doubt it can be part of the magical infrastructure. In fact, I’m fairly certain that theft isn’t the root of our problem.” Kate gives us both a very serious look, “That said, in the meantime, we must keep an extra close eye on the premises. Mathilde, can you send an extra library assistant over to Iffley to help monitor the valuables?”
“I’ll see what I can do. Staffing levels are always short, but perhaps I can free up someone.”
She pauses as the waiter turns up, an array of small plates in hand. We take turns passing around the nibbles until we each have a full plate.
Kate scoffs a quick bite before jumping back into her story. “Now for the crazy update. I had to go into London last night for an event at the National Gallery. I went to catch up with a potential donor about bequeathing his collection to the Ash. That man has two feet in the grave but is still turning up at events. We’re all madly competing for his favour. But that’s not important.”
Mathilde and I hang on the edge of our chairs as we wait for Kate to chew another bite of her food.
“After I finished speaking with the donor, I wandered off on my own, looking for a quiet corner so I could sit and make some notes about the chat. I ended up in a quiet gallery, perched on a bench in front of a giant statue of Victoria and Albert. There I was, pen scribbling furiously, when I feel a tap on my shoulder.”
“Who was it?” I ask when Kate pauses for another nibble.
“Why, it was Queen Victoria, can you imagine!”
To say that Mathilde and I look similarly dumbfounded would be a massive understatement.
Kate rushes ahead, “I swivelled in my seat, staring at her much as you two look right now. I was shocked and flabbergasted.”
Leaning in, Mathilde whispers, “Did she… did she say anything?” Looking at Mathilde, I can’t tell whether she wants the answer to be a yes or a no.
Shifting in her seat, Kate nods. “She asked me if I knew why they’d ‘woken up’ about a month ago. How she knew I could see and hear her, I don’t have a clue, so don’t ask.”
We let Kate finish her plate of food while we try to make sense of everything she’s said so far.
After wiping her mouth and pushing her plate away, Kate continues, “Thank goodness I’ve had three months of experience speaking with statues here in Oxford. I buried my shock and conducted a mini-investigation. As best as I could see, there is a narrow line of magic running straight through the National Gallery. Victoria and Albert were positioned perfectly to benefit from it. That woke them up.”
Having grown up in London, I’ve got an excellent mental map of the city. The National Gallery is on a near-perfect diagonal from Oxford, one that would cross over a certain set of meadows filled with talking sheep. “Do you think whoever is causing the boundary problem is connected with the National Gallery?”
Kate’s face looks grim. “I wish it were that simple, but I followed the line to the edge of the building. There was nothing there which would explain it. My best guess is that it keeps on going to some other location within the city.”
“London?” Mathilde looks pained at the thought. “First sheep, now Queen Victoria! There is no way this is an accident. Now I see why you said theft of objects isn’t our problem. The only way magic could reach so far south is if someone has tapped into our magical boundary and is attempting to stretch it clear down to London.” Mathilde’s eyes widen as the reality of our challenge sets in. “That place is huge. It could be anyone, anywhere! How on earth are we going to solve this?”
When all of our plates and glasses are empty, I break the silence. “I am in way over my head already, and I’ve only been here for a week and a half. I need to make St Margaret my number one priority.”
Kate pats my arm, “You are right. We now know for sure that St Margaret is at risk of ending up in the same situation as Iffley. The best thing you can do right now is focus on solving the murder and pulling off the
