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Authors: John Booth
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most still in the large travelling case that he had brought them in. By the time he went to bed, he had convinced himself he had imagined the healing magic he’d used, as it seemed so unlikely.
Tom stayed awake for most of the night. In the morning he found a cab waiting for him, transport Trelawney had arranged to take him to the railway station.
Snood fretted as he waited in the King’s Tavern in Soho for his controller. Why did the blasted man want to see him now? He was pretty sure he had not being followed, but to meet so soon after the attack on the Spellbinder and Carter seemed unnecessarily stupid.
He nursed a glass of warm beer close to his chest. He could smell the living yeast in it. It formed a thick frothy edge against the mottled pint glass. Someone played a concertina on the other side of the room and he suspected a floozy must be giving some kind of performance from the clapping, yells and other appreciative noises. Public display of the female body was illegal, but such behavior was ignored by the constabulary in this part of London .
He was so lost in thought that he failed to notice the man sidle onto the bench across the table from him. It was his controller, hat pulled down and collar up so that little could be seen of his face. Snood wanted to laugh. He knew exactly who this man was and whom he worked for. But he found it safest to humor the idiot and pretend he didn’t have a clue.
“Wolves run in this inclement weather.”
‘God. The man is going through the password sequence as if I don’t recognize him,’ Snood thought. It was going to be difficult to keep the contempt from his voice. “But only in the North of England, I think.”
His controller smacked the table with the flat of his hand. “Good man. Despite your failure to deal with Carter we are quite pleased with the overall result. It was a shame to lose Carmichael , but you cannot make an omelet and so on. The operation of the bind proved most excellent. A field test in London with the authorities on alert and they still lost almost two hundred people at the last count. You have massively increased its value on the black market.”
“But how did they escape, the Spellbinder and Carter? You told me the bind was infallible!” There was real anger in Snood’s voice. He still wanted that Spellbinder, whoever he was. He wanted him dead.
“The Spellbinder is a Class A. Do you realize how rare they are, oh, of course you would. You are merely a Grade 2, aren’t you?”
“Grade 3,” Snood snarled. “The test was rigged and the man who did it didn’t care for my background.”
His controller dismissed Snood’s anger with a wave of his hand.
“Yes, well, I don’t think we care much, one way or the other. The point is, she is a Class A.” the man paused for emphasis, “And you are going to be her teacher.”
“What?”
“Yes, apparently you impressed Trelawney in your interview and he wants you down at Hobsgate. He has played right into our hands. He has asked the Education Ministry and MM1 to release you and transfer you to MM3 to teach the girl. We are most pleased by this development.” The little man was grinning. “You get to turn the little Class A, Spellbinder to our cause. She will end up working for us.”
“I want to turn her head a full circle, just after I stick a knife in her elly and rip out her womb before her eyes!”
The little man looked shocked. “You will not. This is an order from the very top. The girl will be turned to work for us. If she cannot be turned, we will kidnap her and sell her to the highest bidder. Alive, Snood, alive! Even as a slave, just as a breeder with her hands amputated so she can’t bind, a Class A is worth a fortune in the world market. China and Russia would pay us amounts beyond your imagination.”
“She should be dead,” Snood stated flatly.
“And we don’t know why she isn’t. Trelawney knows, but his secretary put the note in the wrong pile and it
Tom stayed awake for most of the night. In the morning he found a cab waiting for him, transport Trelawney had arranged to take him to the railway station.
Snood fretted as he waited in the King’s Tavern in Soho for his controller. Why did the blasted man want to see him now? He was pretty sure he had not being followed, but to meet so soon after the attack on the Spellbinder and Carter seemed unnecessarily stupid.
He nursed a glass of warm beer close to his chest. He could smell the living yeast in it. It formed a thick frothy edge against the mottled pint glass. Someone played a concertina on the other side of the room and he suspected a floozy must be giving some kind of performance from the clapping, yells and other appreciative noises. Public display of the female body was illegal, but such behavior was ignored by the constabulary in this part of London .
He was so lost in thought that he failed to notice the man sidle onto the bench across the table from him. It was his controller, hat pulled down and collar up so that little could be seen of his face. Snood wanted to laugh. He knew exactly who this man was and whom he worked for. But he found it safest to humor the idiot and pretend he didn’t have a clue.
“Wolves run in this inclement weather.”
‘God. The man is going through the password sequence as if I don’t recognize him,’ Snood thought. It was going to be difficult to keep the contempt from his voice. “But only in the North of England, I think.”
His controller smacked the table with the flat of his hand. “Good man. Despite your failure to deal with Carter we are quite pleased with the overall result. It was a shame to lose Carmichael , but you cannot make an omelet and so on. The operation of the bind proved most excellent. A field test in London with the authorities on alert and they still lost almost two hundred people at the last count. You have massively increased its value on the black market.”
“But how did they escape, the Spellbinder and Carter? You told me the bind was infallible!” There was real anger in Snood’s voice. He still wanted that Spellbinder, whoever he was. He wanted him dead.
“The Spellbinder is a Class A. Do you realize how rare they are, oh, of course you would. You are merely a Grade 2, aren’t you?”
“Grade 3,” Snood snarled. “The test was rigged and the man who did it didn’t care for my background.”
His controller dismissed Snood’s anger with a wave of his hand.
“Yes, well, I don’t think we care much, one way or the other. The point is, she is a Class A.” the man paused for emphasis, “And you are going to be her teacher.”
“What?”
“Yes, apparently you impressed Trelawney in your interview and he wants you down at Hobsgate. He has played right into our hands. He has asked the Education Ministry and MM1 to release you and transfer you to MM3 to teach the girl. We are most pleased by this development.” The little man was grinning. “You get to turn the little Class A, Spellbinder to our cause. She will end up working for us.”
“I want to turn her head a full circle, just after I stick a knife in her elly and rip out her womb before her eyes!”
The little man looked shocked. “You will not. This is an order from the very top. The girl will be turned to work for us. If she cannot be turned, we will kidnap her and sell her to the highest bidder. Alive, Snood, alive! Even as a slave, just as a breeder with her hands amputated so she can’t bind, a Class A is worth a fortune in the world market. China and Russia would pay us amounts beyond your imagination.”
“She should be dead,” Snood stated flatly.
“And we don’t know why she isn’t. Trelawney knows, but his secretary put the note in the wrong pile and it
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