I pushed myself off the wall and jogged after him. When I reached his shoulder, however, he merely grunted, ‘’Bout time. I thought you were in a rush to get this over and done with.’
I narrowed my eyes. He didn’t seem to be carrying any herbs although he could well have cast a few runes. All the same, he wasn’t acting any differently and my skin already seemed to be returning to normal.
‘What’s wrong?’ he snapped. ‘Is walking down a few stairs too much trouble for you now? Would you prefer to take the lift?’
It wasn’t his doing then. No doubt it was a result of the binding. We might not have been far apart but the spell must have registered my intention to have nothing more to do with the investigation and reacted accordingly. That was … interesting. Rather than admit to Winter what had happened, I deflected him. ‘There’s a lift?’ I asked hopefully.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. This is a technology-free zone.’ He continued downward.
I rubbed my arms and followed. Well, this was just shit. Apparently the binding was even tighter than I’d been led to believe. I suppose I should have been amused that the higher Level witches didn’t trust Winter to work with someone else without enforced magic. If anyone else bore the brunt of this spell, it would have been funny. I was most definitely not laughing.
Winter strode down to the foot of the stairs and stopped. He took out his little stick and poked the air; this time it turned red.
‘Abracadabra,’ I muttered.
He didn’t turn around. ‘Go up and take a book from a shelf then come back down here.’ I didn’t move a muscle. He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Didn’t you hear me?’
I blinked. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Were you talking to me?’ I clasped my chest. ‘I thought I was just along for the ride and superfluous to your investigations. I’m just an amateur, after all.’
Winter’s mouth tightened fractionally. I’d have hung around and waited for a ‘please’ except my skin began to tingle once more. ‘Fine,’ I snapped. ‘Anything in particular?’
‘Just get a book.’
I stomped back upstairs, swiped the nearest tome and stomped back down again, pausing only to read the spine. Approaching Magic With Empathy. Volume Two. Ha. Ha. Ha.
I thrust the book at Winter but he shook his head and pointed to the front doors leading to the outside world about twenty metres away. ‘Take it outside.’
‘Do you want to explain what this is about?’
He pinched off a headache. ‘Ms Wilde, please just do it.’
I regarded him silently for a moment or two. ‘You’re wishing I’d been sent to jail now, right?’
He didn’t answer. I shrugged and stepped forward, taking the book with me. Hot pain flashed through my body. ‘Ow!’ I yelped. ‘What the hell?’
‘Books have to be checked out at the desk before they can be moved beyond this point.’
‘Well, why the hell didn’t you say so? Are you trying to kill me now?’
The long look he gave me suggested great sufferance. ‘The ward around the display cabinet had degraded so it would have been simple to break it. This ward is a different matter.’
The pain coursing through my veins confirmed that it was very much still in operation. ‘So how did the thieves get past it?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘How did they know that the first ward had degraded?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you know anything?’
Winter gritted his teeth. ‘Investigations of this nature take time, Ms Wilde. There’s no sudden eureka moment where all is revealed.’ He paused. ‘Return the book.’
I glanced back at the stairs. ‘Sure,’ I said casually. I lifted up one hand and sketched out a rune in the air then let go of the book. It floated upwards, making its way back to its original position.
‘That was a waste of magic. The Order dislikes unnecessary and lazy spells.’
I clapped my hand over my mouth dramatically. ‘Gee. If only I’d known.’
He sighed in irritation. ‘Come on. There are more wards to test.’
Oh goody.
This time at least, Winter stepped up to the plate. He grabbed an old mixing bowl on display by the wall situated past the first pain-inducing ward. The card next to the bowl informed us that it was sixteenth century. A perverse part of me hoped Winter would inadvertently break it while trying to get it past the second invisible ward. All that happened, however, was a faint hiss emanating from under his breath as he tried to pass with the bowl in his hand. I peered more closely. It looked like his lips had turned a faint shade of blue.
‘I think you should try again,’ I suggested. ‘You know, just to be sure.’
Winter carefully replaced the bowl on its stand. He didn’t bother answering me this time; instead, he walked beyond the first two wards and glanced about for a suitable object to filch. I got bored watching him and headed to the front door, gazing at the people outside. They looked happy. The bastards.
Eventually Winter picked up a gold-tipped quill from a shelf. ‘This will do,’ he muttered. He threw it towards me.
I didn’t even attempt to catch it; I simply stepped back and let it fall to the ground. I grinned. ‘Oops.’
‘Pick up the pen and try to take it through the front door,’ he commanded.
I shook my head. ‘No way.’
Winter smiled at me wolfishly. ‘You won’t get hurt. The final ward is … different to the others.’
I really didn’t like the sound of that. ‘I’m still not doing it.’ I ignored the prickle that ran across my skin again. This was becoming ridiculous. Winter could do it; it didn’t have to be me.
‘As I have to keep reminding you, Ms Wilde, I am in charge here. You will do as I say.’
‘Yesterday you said I wouldn’t have to do anything apart from follow you around. Less than a day later you seem intent on torturing me.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought you wanted this done quickly.’ He came over to me and picked up the quill. ‘I’ll do it. But I’m in no rush.’
I looked into his eyes. I had the impression that he’d happily hang around for hours before testing the ward, simply to make a point.
I muttered a curse under my breath and snatched the quill from him. ‘Fine. When I’m convulsing on the floor, you’ll be sorry.’ I twisted round and headed for the door. I was barely three feet away when the most god-awful shrieking started up. It was less like an alarm and more like a pack of harpies surrounding me, intent on making my ears bleed. I clamped my hands over my ears and kept going. A moment later there was a whoosh and I was surrounded by ten-foot iron spikes that sprang from nowhere. I was well and truly trapped.
‘All this for a damn quill?’ I screamed.
Beyond the ring of spikes, Winter shrugged. ‘Missing stationery accounts for a lot of the Order’s budget. It’s important to track every item to avoid unnecessary loss.’ He turned away.
‘Hey!’
Winter didn’t miss a step.
I shouted louder. ‘Hey! You need to let me out!’