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and drew up in front of a vast, gloomy building, the knocked-together conglomeration that began with a pair of three-storey townhouses and had grown over the years into a vast warren of secrecy.
    â€˜Good lord,’ George said, staring up at the oppressive façade that loomed over them. ‘Darnleigh House.’
    The soldier who had loaded them appeared at the rear of the lorry. ‘All out,’ he said, but his eyes were on the building rather than on his passengers. ‘This is your stop.’

    Commander Craddock watched Aubrey and George from the other side of his desk. ‘We can’t waste talent, I’m afraid. While you would have been useful in the army, we think you could be more useful elsewhere.’
    Aubrey’s irritation at being impressed – at being co-opted against his will – was soothed somewhat by this, but he allowed it a bite. ‘It is called volunteering, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Unfortunate, that,’ Craddock said. He had a small silver paperweight in one hand and he rolled it through his fingers. ‘It’s not necessarily the best thing for the country.’
    â€˜Ah. And you know better?’
    George looked uncomfortable at this exchange. ‘I say, Commander, I can appreciate why you’ve got Aubrey here. Top notch magic talent and all that. But it doesn’t explain what I’m doing here.’
    â€˜I agree,’ Commander Craddock said. ‘It’s remarkable, Doyle, how little magic you have in you. Many people have a touch, even if only an infinitesimal amount. But you seem entirely devoid of magic.’
    George smiled. ‘That comes as quite a relief, actually, since I’ve seen the sort of thing magic can do.’
    â€˜You do have other skills, but they are of more use elsewhere. Propaganda, perhaps, with your writing. Just follow Tate here and she’ll take you to Lattimer Hall.’
    Aubrey and George swivelled in their chairs. A blackclad Department operative was standing at the door. Long black skirt, black jacket, gloves. Aubrey hadn’t heard her enter. ‘Lattimer Hall?’ George said. ‘Special Services headquarters?’
    â€˜Just across the park,’ Craddock said. ‘We work closely together now that we’re united under the auspices of the Directorate, especially when it comes to recruiting.’
    â€˜You have your recruiters on the lookout?’ Aubrey said.
    â€˜We have a list of names,’ Craddock said. He placed the paperweight in a small silver saucer. It shone like a beacon. ‘If they appear at a recruiting office, we’re notified. When you and Doyle showed up, I said we’d take you both in and then get Doyle here to Lattimer Hall.’
    â€˜And what if these names don’t volunteer?’ Aubrey asked.
    â€˜They will. Given time.’
    â€˜So you don’t think the war will be over by Christmas?’
    â€˜Do you?’
    Aubrey remembered the war build-up he’d seen in Holmland. ‘I doubt it.’
    â€˜The war will be a horror beyond most people’s imagining. When this becomes apparent, it will deter some from volunteering – but others will understand how important it is.’ Commander Craddock pushed the paperweight with a finger. It rolled around the saucer. ‘And if they don’t, we’ll have to convince them.’
    Aubrey hoped that wasn’t as ominous as it sounded. Craddock had made a professional career out of sounding threatening.
    George stood. ‘Be careful, old man,’ he muttered to Aubrey, but he brightened when he joined Tate, the Department operative. She looked at him coolly from under her cap with large dark eyes. ‘Are we in any hurry?’ he asked her. ‘I know a little café, just around the corner...’
    His voice cut off as the door shut, and Aubrey smiled. George would never die wondering.
    â€˜Things have changed, Fitzwilliam,’ Craddock continued.