She raises her arm and I see she’s holding a baton. ‘I’ve already been smacked on the head with one of those,’ I tell her coolly. ‘It’s not going to happen again.’
Her arm moves higher, ready to strike. I glare at her, meeting her eyes and daring her to try it. It’s a move I’ve often seen the Chairman pull; he once made an Alsatian back away whining with the same stare. I hold my nerve, recognising the moment when she backs down. It’s only a faint flicker in her eyes but I know I’ve won. Clearly, the Department has its fair share of bullies; stand up to them and they’ll sidle away with their tails between their legs.
‘It’s alright, Officer Effrayant.’ It’s the Mayor.
I try not to smirk at the guard’s name. Effrayant is French for scary. Well, for once, I ain’t scared. I walk up to the Mayor, my shoulders back and my head held high. ‘You’ve captured a mare from the forest.’ It’s not a question.
‘That’s rather a wild accusation.’
‘Is it?’ I challenge.
He smiles at me benignly and pats my arm. ‘You’re confused. Concussion will do that sometimes. You should sit down and have a cup of tea – I can fetch you one if you like.’ He snaps his fingers and an older woman appears. Bizarrely, she’s wearing a traditional maid’s uniform; the Mayor must think he’s in Downton Abbey.
‘Telling someone to make me a cup of tea isn’t the same as fetching it yourself,’ I point out. ‘Where is the mare?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Really, you should calm down.’
Considering I’ve not raised my voice, I think I’m acting remarkably calmly. I lift my eyebrows. ‘Oh, I’m fine. I just want to find the mare and free her. You can’t attack one and drag her off. It’s not fair.’
‘I did no such thing.’ There’s a spark of amusement in his face. It’s patronising and makes me want to punch him.
‘Your goons did.’
‘My goons? I understand the Dreamlands are new to you but we’re not in the pages of a comic book.’
‘They would have been acting on your orders.’
‘No one has touched the mares. No one from the Department, anyway. Where on earth would we keep them?’ He’s lying through his teeth; I can tell from the faint tick above his right eyelid and because I only mentioned one mare. He used the plural. My stomach lurches. How many has he captured? ‘Perhaps it was that wastrel in the forest. Dante,’ he continues.
I can’t help rising to the bait. ‘You really don’t like him, do you? Is it because he’s one of the few people to see you for who you really are?’
He snarls at me. ‘He’s a traitor.’
I suddenly think of the reaction I’ve seen from others when Dante’s been mentioned. The Mayor has obviously made sure everyone hates him. No wonder he keeps to the forest.
I’m opening my mouth to tell the Mayor I’ve seen through his little ploy when he steps forward and takes hold of my shoulder, smoothing his features into a benign mask. ‘I think you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot. Come with me, I want to show you something.’
I batten down the urge to throw him off and spit in his direction. I know that to show him what I really think of him will be to make a powerful enemy. Maybe if I play along I’ll have a better chance of discovering where the mares are.
‘Where?’ I ask suspiciously.
He chortles and points to a door. ‘Not far, not far.’
I look from the door to his face and back again. Then I shrug. In for a penny, in for a pound. ‘Okay.’
‘You really don’t find it easy to trust people, do you? I’m not the big bad wolf.’
He was certainly doing enough predatory snarling a moment ago. I smile at him. ‘Well, I’m no Little Red Riding Hood. But I don’t get out much and all this is very new to me.’
‘Indeed. I keep forgetting. Do you know, we’ve never had anyone make their first apparation at your age before? Not that I’m suggesting you’re old...’
I note the speculative gleam in his eyes and laugh. ‘Of course not.’
He holds out his hand. ‘Ask anyone in the town about me. I’m one of the good guys.’
Every cell in my body is screaming at me to turn tail and run. Instead I place my hand in his. ‘I’m pleased to hear it.’
I’m half-expecting Effrayant to follow us but when the door slams shut behind us, I realise that it’s just me and the Mayor. If I’d been hoping for a sign of any mares, I’m sadly disappointed. We’re in a long, narrow filing room with not so much as a sugar cube in evidence.
‘Ashley shouldn’t have taken you to the Bubble but I can’t really punish her for it. She’s very well-liked. It has rather forced my hand, however, when I’d hoped to ease you in more gently.’
I’m struck by his choice of words about Ashley but I focus on the important part instead. ‘Ease me in to what?’
‘This.’ He walks over to a cabinet and pulls open a drawer. Inside are cards after cards after cards. Using the edge of his thumb and forefinger, he pinches one and slides it out. ‘8423,9214. Those are the coordinates that correspond to the door number.’