The only troubling note was that the Idyll remained distant. It had not retreated further, but neither did it bond itself to the Faerie’s borders any more.
Nonetheless, the lines fell from Harry’s face, and as each day passed his mortal appearance more closely mirrored that of the Lord of the Faerie. Those mortals around him, the people he worked with in military intelligence and some of the more obscure government departments, remarked on it, and he said only that the spring had provided him with a tonic so good it had soothed away all his cares and aches.
Stella laughed more often, and the Sidlesaghes took to wandering the bridle paths of Epping Forest, coming close to playing tag through the dappled shadows.
But the most extraordinary change resulting from the Great Marriage was in Noah.
The day after the Great Marriage she left the Savoy to visit with Matilda and Ecub. The instant she walked out into the street to catch a cab, she stopped, her eyes widening.
“My gods, Jack,” she whispered, “I can feel it, too!”
On the evening of Friday the tenth of May, Jack, Noah, Weyland and Grace met with Harry and Stella at Faerie Hill Manor. It was the first time they had all gathered together since the Great Marriage. Overall it was a happy get-together—after all, the Great Marriage had apparently done what it was supposed to—and all were relaxed.
All save Grace, who was very quiet. This, however, was so much her usual state that no one save Jack, who had seen her far more animated, paid it much attention.
Once everyone was gathered, Harry asked if anyone had listened to the radio since lunchtime.
Noah shook her head, looking to Weyland, who also shook his. “We’ve spent the day in our apartment, reading,” she said. “Grace?”
Grace just gave a shake of her head.
“Copt Hall didn’t come equipped with a radio,” said Jack with a grin, “and I doubt that Malcolm would allow me one if I desired it. What is it, Harry? Bad news, or good?”
“Good. Neville Chamberlain has resigned.”
Chamberlain had been Britain’s Prime Minister all through the lead-up to the war and during its initial months. He was a likeable enough chap, and a good Prime Minister during peace, but most people thought he was out of his depth when confronted with the sheer enormity of Hitler.
“And?” said Jack softly. “Who has replaced him?”
“Winston Churchill,” said Harry.
“This is good?” said Jack. “I’m sorry, I don’t know him, although I’ve heard of him.”
“Yes, it is good,” said Harry. “I’ve met Churchill on several occasions, and know him well through other acquaintances. George,” he said, referring to the king, “does not like him particularly, but I think Churchill will be of much benefit for the land. He has a touch of the Faerie about him—there must be ancient blood in there somewhere—and he has pluck, and those combined will, I think, do us all much good.”
“And surely,” said Stella, “we cannot fail to miss the significance of his rise to power so soon after the Great Marriage. He is the land’s choice.”
“I’ve called you together tonight,” said Harry, “to work out where we go from here. I think that Jack needs to get the arm-bands, and then—”
“Harry,” said Noah, leaning forward in her chair, her eyes shining, and looking at Jack even though she addressed Harry, “before we talk about that, there is something else I need to tell you.”
“And it is…?” said Harry, who had a sudden horrible premonition that she was about to announce she was pregnant to Jack. Babies were all very well, but this, now, would be disastrous. He flickered a glance Weyland’s way, trying to see if Weyland had any inkling of what it was Noah was about to reveal.
But Weyland had his face blank of all expression, and was no help to Harry.
“I can sense the shadow, Jack!” she said. “I walked outside the day after the Great Marriage, and suddenly, I felt it!”
Everyone in the room reacted, some far more than others.
Stella looked at Noah with some curiosity, but did not seem overly excited at the news. Grace stared at her mother as if she had announced an imminent Martian invasion. Harry just looked stunned, incapable of speech.
Weyland’s face tensed, and he looked away from his wife.
Jack made a soft sound and sat forward. “You felt it? Thank gods! Tell me, what? What did you feel? Do you understand it? Can you recognise if—”
“Jack!” said Noah, laughing and holding out her hands as if to fend him off. “Be still a moment, and let me tell it. Yes, I can now feel what you do. A shadow—I don’t know what else to call it either—hovering over London, its tentacles reaching deep within the city, and something distinctly labyrinthine. I have not explored as you and Grace have done,” she finally glanced at her daughter to include her in the conversation, “but I have used every sense I have, as Mistress of the Labyrinth, as Eaving, and as Darkwitch, to scry it out.”
“And?” said Jack. His sense of excitement had faded now, and instead he appeared palpably tense.
“I think it is a weakness in the Troy Game,” Noah said.
“No,” said Grace. “Not a weakness.”
“Grace,” said Noah, “I know that you think—”
“Can’t you see that it is a trap?” Grace said angrily. “Catling is too cunning for you! I know! She sits beside my bed at night, and what I feel in this shadow over London is what I feel emanating from her. It is a trap.” She brushed tears away from her eyes, muttering an inaudible curse, more at the tears than at what her mother had just said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted. I just don’t think this is any weakness. I wish…”
She drifted to a close, looked about, then hunched in her chair miserably.
Jack watched her, his eyes narrowed in thought. Was she so miserable at what she thought was his and Noah’s misinterpretation of the shadow…or at the fact that her mother could feel it as well?
“Weyland,” Jack said, “can you feel it yet?”
Weyland gave a terse shake of his head. “Obviously Noah’s new-found ability is tied to the success of your wedding night.”
Jack chose to ignore that remark—there wasn’t much he could say to it anyway—and instead changed the subject.
“Harry, I hear you about the kingship bands,” he said, “but once I retrieve them, Catling will expect Noah and me to complete her immediately. Not having them buys us more time—I can give Catling some excuse or other. But now that Noah can feel this weakness as well—”
To one side, Grace looked away as Jack used the word “weakness” as if it was fact.
“—I am more convinced than ever that we need to get to the bottom of this particular mystery before anything else. If we can exploit this weakness, then perhaps we have the means to unwind the Troy Game.”
Harry nodded. “All right, I agree. You are sure you can placate Catling?”
Jack gave a small shrug. “I will do my best.” He looked at Noah. “Secreting those final two bands in the Otherworld was a masterstroke, Noah. Unlike the other four bands, Catling will have no idea what needs to be done to retrieve those two, and must needs believe whatever I tell her.”
Noah smiled at him, warmed by his compliment, then she looked at Grace, and her smile died a little. She stood up. “Grace, what say you and I go to the kitchen and make some coffee. I think we need clear heads now more than whisky-fuddled wits.”
“Grace,” Noah said as soon as she and her daughter were alone in the kitchen, “I should have mentioned this to you beforehand. I apologise. That was not the way for you to hear.”
Grace clattered around in the sink, filling the kettle. “But what good points you scored with Jack.”
“Grace—”
“I’m sorry,” Grace said, now banging the kettle down on the stovetop so heavily water slopped out of its spout. “It is just that I don’t believe it is a weakness. I am afraid that…”
“I know.” Noah came to stand behind her daughter, who was staring at the kettle and making no effort to light the gas burner. She put her hands on Grace’s shoulders, and pulled her back into her body, holding her gently. “I know you are scared, and I know you are scared about what Jack and I think. My darling,” she turned Grace about, “I can only promise you that I will keep an open mind, and Jack and I will explore every possible avenue of explanation. Neither of us wants to make a mistake.”
“I can help.”
“Yes, of course.” Noah was not sure what help Grace could be—mainly because she was worried that Grace was the one with the shuttered mind when it came to deciphering this particular puzzle—but Noah also knew very well that she could not say that. “Grace, I promise that I will keep an open mind on this.”