***
Diall worked at the Geomancy Branch, a section of the Order that probably sounds a whole lot more glamorous than it actually is. Geomancy is the magical equivalent of the more spiritual Feng Shui. When new houses are built, the Geomancy Branch are brought in to ensure that everything is planned and structured to avoid disturbing any untoward magical forces. The stronger the Geomancy magic, the more majestic and inspirational the final buildings. As an example, St Paul’s Cathedral is surrounded by Geomantic magic. It is said that more than five hundred witches worked with Christopher Wren on that particular project. Walk through the doors and you can still feel the old magic buzzing in the air.
These days, of course, they work on suburban houses and estates. There is little Geomancy called for when it comes to fitted kitchens and underfloor heating. The more technology that is incorporated in new buildings, the more it conflicts with Geomancy. I’d heard on the grapevine that their latest big project involved cowsheds. Admirable, to be sure: cows deserve somewhere decent to sleep just as much as humans. But it wasn’t exactly romantic, interesting work. Still, it made some sense that Bell End and Alice were from Geomancy. If you want to be a thief and break into people’s houses, understanding the magic that binds them would be very handy.
Winter and I walked into their showy building in the far corner of the Order campus. As if to prove their worth, the Geomancy worker bees had gone to considerable effort to make the place look grand. Like most of the neighbouring university buildings, this one was made out of local Headington stone but it was an odd mish-mash of styles, as if each generation had sought to put their personal stamp on the structure. There were sweeping curves coupled with harsh gargoyles and perpendicular modern lines. Although it was a mess, I rather liked the way it had been put together. I particularly liked the marble floor in the entrance because it was shiny enough for me to slide across without bothering to pick up my feet.
‘How old did you say you were?’ Winter enquired.
‘Twenty-seven.’ I pushed out my arms. Perhaps if I was more streamlined, I could slide to the next pillar. I turned my head and grinned at him. ‘If you’re trying to make the point that I’m childish, thank you very much. The only reason that most adults don’t do things like this is because they’re too concerned about what others think. Or they’re so worried about their problems they can’t think about anything but themselves. Or they no longer see the wonder and joy in sliding across a floor or down a banister. I think that’s sad, not immature.’
‘Hmmm.’ Winter scratched his chin. Rather than frowning at me in disapproval, he shocked me by flinging himself forward and trying to glide along himself. He didn’t get very far. ‘This is stupid,’ he muttered.
‘Your shoes are too sensible. They probably have expensive non-slip soles. Now if you took them off and tried in your socks…’
He tilted his head. ‘Don’t push your luck, Ivy.’
I winked at him. ‘You gave me the opening, Raphael.’
For a long moment he was silent. When he spoke, I barely heard him. ‘Rafe.’
‘Pardon?’
Winter cleared his throat. ‘It’s Rafe. Nor Raphael. I’m not an angel.’
‘You just look like one,’ I said, the words out of my mouth before I could stop them. ‘I mean…’ Ah, darn it. I shrugged. ‘You’re a remarkably good-looking guy.’
He met my eyes. I thought he looked rather pleased. ‘You’re not so bad yourself.’
‘I’ll take that,’ I said cheerfully. ‘It beats being told I need to go on a diet.’
Winter had the grace to redden slightly. Before he could apologise – and end up embarrassing us both even more – I pulled back my shoulders and stopped monkeying around. ‘We should get going.’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’ Then, ‘You’re becoming a bad influence on me.’
I patted him on the shoulder. ‘Then there’s hope for you yet.’
We walked, rather than slid, towards the reception desk. A smartly dressed man without a hair out of place greeted us. ‘I’ve always wanted to do that,’ he confided in a delighted tone.
Winter, embarrassed at having been caught doing something that didn’t involve marching like a sergeant major, frowned. ‘I’m Adeptus Exemptus Winter,’ he said. ‘And this is my associate, Ivy Wilde.’
Much as I liked being described as Winter’s associate, I needed to come up with a title for myself so that I sounded as grand as Winter. Supinus Wondrous, perhaps. Both Winter and the receptionist looked at me strangely and I realised I must have said it out loud. Oops. I grinned and stuck out my hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’
The perfectly coiffed man smiled back, although a touch more nervously now that he knew who he was dealing with. Winter seemed to have that effect on a lot of people. ‘We’ve been expecting you,’ he said. ‘I’m to take you to one of our meeting rooms.’
He stepped out from behind the desk and led the way. I was tempted to start sliding again but the moment had passed. Instead I decided to fill the silence with something more helpful. ‘What’s your name?’
He didn’t turn around. ‘Michael Weathers.’
‘And did you know Adeptus Exemptus Diall well?’ I enquired.
‘He didn’t speak to me very often,’ Weathers answered. ‘But I’m only a Neophyte and I don’t have much aptitude for magic. I mean,’ he said hastily, with a backward glance at Winter, ‘I can do the basics but I’m not that talented.’
‘Maybe you just need to find your niche,’ I suggested.
‘I thought I was doing well,’ he said in a low voice. ‘But Adeptus Diall set me straight. I have a lot to learn. I’m not sure I’ll ever progress.’
I nudged Winter meaningfully. Maybe Diall hadn’t just worked on elevating those whose talent was inferior; he might also have tried to keep down those with genuine abilities. So much for Order honour.
Winter nodded, acknowledging my meaning. ‘What have your duties been?’ he asked Weathers.
‘Manning the desk. That’s what I do.’
‘You’ve not been sent out on any recent errands?’
Weathers let out a humourless laugh. ‘No. I don’t go anywhere.’
No doubt Winter would insist on double-checking this but I was certain that the receptionist was telling the truth; we weren’t going to find anything more useful from him.
‘You know,’ I said, feeling sorry for the young man, ‘we would make a great team. The three of us, I mean. We’d be Wilde Wintry Weather. We should start our own agency immediately.’
Winter raised his eyes to the heavens. I shrugged. I thought it was a great idea. Judging by the way Weathers’ shoulders were shaking, he did too.