He stepped back, his face losing much of its animation. “Of course. Soon. At the equinox.” Jack knew he should tell Noah where the bands were, but right now didn’t seem the best time.
Later, when Noah had gone, Jack stood under the trees, staring south towards London, smoking one cigarette after another. The sky was slowly lightening towards dawn, but still he could hear the sound of aircraft.
It had been a busy night for the Luftwaffe, and it seemed as if they would not let up until full light.
Jack sighed, taking a long draw on his smoke. On one level the night had been a great success. The Game was vulnerable. Why else should he and Noah have been able to direct that bomb in so close?
On the other hand…
On the other hand, the night had been greatly unsettling.
Jack had drawn the greater part of his power from the labyrinth, but he felt as if he’d been spiralling power from somewhere else, as well. But from where? Not the forests or the land—the power Jack had used during the night had been pure Kingman power. But not all of it had derived from the labyrinth.
Something else had been feeding his abilities, and Jack had the highly uncomfortable feeling that if it hadn’t been for this unknown source of power, then he might not have managed as well as he had.
Noah, he was sure, had only drawn power from the labyrinth, and she certainly hadn’t been aware that Jack was using power from a different source.
Jack felt as if something had reached out for him, and he had no idea what it was.
The shadow itself? No. No…he was certain of that.
Ah, maybe he’d imagined it.
But then, just as uncomfortable as the sense that he’d used power from another source, was how he’d felt about working with Noah.
It had been the first time that he and Noah had worked together as Kingman and Mistress of the Labyrinth. The first time they had merged and used their powers as a team.
It had gone favourably. They worked together well, their powers were unbelievably complementary, and Noah was powerful beyond anything Jack could have hoped for. They’d enjoyed great success, and had been happy with the result.
But…
If it hadn’t been for that night when he’d danced with Grace, then Jack would have been perfectly happy. If it hadn’t been for that night when he’d tested Grace’s powers, Jack would have been a contented man.
During all his lives, from his time as Brutus to his current incarnation as Jack Skelton, Jack had danced—or merged his powers—with three Mistresses of the Labyrinth.
Genvissa, Grace and now Noah.
Genvissa he’d thought wonderful when he was Brutus, but she was only a shadow compared to Grace and Noah.
Noah was the most powerful of all three, bringing behind her as she did not only the arts of the labyrinth, but those of Eaving and her abilities as a Darkwitch as well.
But…Grace. Stronger than Genvissa, weaker than Noah, Grace’s abilities had, nonetheless, matched so flawlessly with his that even given Noah’s spectacular power she simply could not compete with her daughter.
Not when it came to what Jack wanted.
As a Kingman, Jack longed for Grace. No other Mistress of the Labyrinth would ever do for him. Having tasted Grace, then any other Mistress of the Labyrinth, even Noah, would only ever be a disappointment.
Yet there was no way Grace could possibly aid him either to destroy the Troy Game, or to complete it. She was so closely tied to the Game through Catling’s hex that its fate was hers…she simply could not, under any circumstance, partner him in its destruction or completion.
But, oh gods, as a Kingman he wanted her to partner him, so badly…
And as a man?
At that point Jack imagined he could hear Silvius’ lightly mocking laughter.
“Jesus Christ!” he muttered, grinding out the cigarette under the heel of his shoe.
Then he looked south once more, this time directing his attention towards Kensington, where he sensed the object of his interest.
Ariadne, breakfast with me, if you please.
THREE
Copt Hall
Thursday, 12th September 1940
Ariadne was flirting with Malcolm, who was responding in kind quite outrageously, and Jack felt his temper simmering so close to the surface that he thought that if Ariadne simpered one single more time in Malcolm’s direction he would pick one or both of them up and toss them outside.
“Jack,” Ariadne said from her seat on the sofa, smoothing her dress down over her knees and dragging her eyes away from Malcolm who hovered close by with a coffee pot in his hands, “I’m annoying you. I do apologise.”
Jack contented himself with a hard look at Malcolm, who took the hint and retreated into the kitchen.
“But,” Ariadne continued, her mouth curving in humour, “I find myself so thrilled at the idea of being wanted, of being useful, that I—”
“Cut it out, Ariadne.” Jack had been standing by the fire. Now he sat down in a chair, setting his empty coffee cup to one side, and looked Ariadne over.
As ever, she looked both stunningly beautiful and dangerously poisonous, and Jack had to admit a moment’s admiration for his father if he was actually engaged in a romance with this witch. The dress she wore was similar in cut and colour to the scarlet dress she had worn when he’d seen her at Faerie Hill Manor: close-cut, hugging every curve, inviting and threatening all in one.
“I want to talk to you about Grace,” he said.
Ariadne inclined her head, her dark eyes showing the faintest touch of wariness. “A delightful girl,” she said. “Noah and Weyland must be so proud of her.”
“She has been trained as a Mistress of the Labyrinth.”
“Indeed.” Ariadne paused to light a cigarette. “Stella trained her.”
“A poor choice, given that either you or Noah could have done far better.”
Ariadne shrugged. “But she chose Stella.”
“You did not think to—”
“I was not asked.”
Jack lit a cigarette as well, using the action to think. “I have heard that during the Great Fire, when Catling had trapped Noah and Weyland in the heart of the labyrinth, you instructed Grace when she walked through the fire to rescue them.”
“I may have done.”
“Did you or did you not?”
“Yes, I did. For the gods’ sake, Jack, where is this inquisition leading?”
“How powerful was she, Ariadne? How much potential did Grace have?”
Ariadne smoked her cigarette, studying Jack through narrowed eyes. Well, well.
“She had—has—enormous potential,” she eventually said.
“As much as you?”
Ariadne thought about it. “More. Grace has a very powerful mother—Noah is Mistress, goddess, and Darkwitch—and Grace was conceived and grew in Noah’s body during the time that Noah trained as a Mistress.” She paused. “Rather, Grace grew in Noah’s womb during the time that Noah opened herself up to the arts of the labyrinth, and Grace was an aware child. What Noah absorbed, so also did Grace. And her father—who is also her forefather—was the monster at the dark heart of the labyrinth; as you well know, she is twice-bred with Darkcraft in her veins. All this means she has the potential to be,” she smiled, the expression that of a striking falcon, “a very dangerous Mistress of the Labyrinth indeed.”
“As powerful as Noah?” Jack said.
“Is that what you want, Jack?”
“Just answer my question, if you please.”
Temper, temper, thought Ariadne. “Considering Grace’s heritage, her parents, and the influences which shaped her in the womb, she could probably be Noah’s equal, although she would not be able to bring in the powers that Noah controls as Eaving. More than that? I don’t know.”
“I tested her some time ago. She has potential, yes, but at the moment Grace is very weak.”
“She has potential,” Ariadne repeated. “That’s not quite what Silvius told me you’d said.”
Jack froze in the act of lifting his cigarette to his mouth. Silvius had repeated his conversation to Ariadne?
“No need to be cross, Jack. It was pillow-talk only.” She grinned, and quoted the message emblazoned across countless posters on streets and in the Underground. “Loose lips…never know who’s listening…careless talk costs lives, and all that. Look, calm down. He has told no one else.”
Jack gave a short, humourless laugh. “No one else, but look who he has told.”
“And I have told no one. So get to the point, Jack. Whatever power Grace has, and whatever strength it may one day obtain, she is your flawless match. Good for you. So why am I here?”
“Can you train her?”
“She has been trained.”
“Then can you deepen that training, goddamn it! Can you give her experience? Can you take whatever shitty job Stella did and—”
Ariadne burst into laughter. “I like Grace. She intrigues me, and not many people manage that feat. Yes, I can do that for you, although she’ll have to agree.”