A Life Less Ordinary (8 page)

I looked up, surprised. “There are people who abduct children from the mundane world?” I asked. “Why the hell would they want to do that?”

“You don’t want to know,” Master Revels said, flatly. I stared at him until he nodded ruefully. “You can use humans as sacrificial offerings; the younger the better. There’s an entire world that is fond of abducting young women as slaves, although normally they prefer to take someone older and sexually mature. And then the elves have a habit of abducting children and leaving behind a Changeling in the nest.”

He stood up. “Come on,” he said. “We’re off to see the museum.”

Leaving the police station, it seemed, was harder than getting into it. A grim-looking policewoman searched me quickly and efficiently, before pushing me out to wait for Master Revels. The ghosts seemed to have realised that I could see them and started to cluster around me, leering into my face and dripping translucent blood on my clothes. I found myself stumbling backwards and I nearly fell over, just before the ghosts fled. Master Revels had emerged from his inspection, doing up his coat. I guessed the policeman had taken longer to search him.

He said nothing as we walked back towards the Mound, leaving me to my thoughts. If the girls had been abducted, how could we help them? Could we not use magic to find them? Who would have taken them or why? I remembered the family of slaves I’d seen in the market and shuddered. Somehow, the thought of seeing Jenny, or Aisha, or any of the others being sold as slaves was inconceivable. Who would do such a thing? I remembered Master Revels and his warnings about elves; surely, even
they
wouldn’t take humans as slaves?

I shook my head. Humanity’s long history is one of man being inhuman to man. If humans didn’t treat their fellow humans very well, how could we complain if other creatures treated themselves badly? How could we justify ourselves when we had so much of our own blood on our collective hands? I was still musing when we finally reached the museum and entered through the side door. Not entirely to my surprise, parts of the building were glowing with magic.

“It’s been a long time since I was here,” Master Revels said, softly. I nodded. I hadn’t been to the building in ages, ever since I had been a child. It wasn’t a comforting thought. Had someone looked at me and decided not to abduct me? “Let’s see what we can find, shall we?”

We wandered through the building without a real plan. I found myself enjoying it more than I had expected, even though some of the displays were boring. Eventually, we found ourselves on the top floor, wandering through a very different exhibition. The Scottish Arts Council had been giving out grants to young and talented artists and the results of their work lay in front of us. There were a surprising number of visitors, much to my surprise; I thought the artists should have spent a few more years learning their trade.

And then I saw it.

One of the collections was of tiny statues, barely larger than my hand. Something about them caught my eye and I leaned over, picking one of them up. It was heavier than I expected and I had to use both hands, yet as I peered down at it something seemed to shimmer away. The statue had been protected by a glamour-spell and the new face...

I swore. I was holding Jenny Dover – or the statue she had become – in my hands.

Chapter Seven

“Excuse me,” Master Revels said, as soon as he saw Jenny, “who made this statue?”

“That would be...ah, we don’t have a name for him,” the assistant said. “He calls himself Mr Pygmalion, sir. It’s a stage name.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Master Revels asked, dryly. If nothing else, it was proof that a magician was involved somewhere, for I was sure that the institution would have insisted on proper proof of identity if magic wasn’t involved. “How often do you get a new statue?”

The assistant, it seemed, was a groupie when it came to artists, for she was happy to answer all of his questions. It seemed that the elusive statue-maker only came in when the crowds were all gone, where he would produce a new statue and sometimes take away one of the older statues to be sold. I felt a chill running down my spine as I realised that some of the girls might already have been sold and were adorning someone’s mantelpiece or garden, with their new owners having no idea that they had once been human. I looked down at Jenny’s statue and shuddered. Did she know that she was trapped, or had her mind been lost within the stone? I wanted to try a restoration spell at once, but Master Revels was still chatting to the assistant. She seemed to like him and I found myself wondering if he was going to ask for her number afterwards.

I shook my head and turned back to the statues. There were nine on the table, all surrounded by a protective glamour. I could guess why. The police would probably ask a few questions if they discovered statues shaped like the missing girls, although they would probably be unable to imagine the truth. Just for a moment, I wondered what would happen if the statue maker was to be taken to court. The law doesn’t recognise the existence of magic, so the police would have a hard job proving that he abducted and transformed the girls. The bastard might walk free.

And some of the statues were already missing. We were looking for sixteen girls, which meant that seven of them had gone onwards to new owners. I looked down at Jenny again and silently promised her that we would get her out of it, although I had no idea how we could do that. A restoration spell might not work properly outside the magical world.

“And he’s due to come in tonight,” Master Revels said. The assistant nodded. “Would it be possible for us to meet with him?”

“He doesn’t see guests, sir,” the assistant said. “He only sees some of the staff and...”

“I intend to offer him a long-term contract,” Master Revels said, smoothly. He held up a card in front of her face. It was charmed to support his story. “We feel that his work has considerable promise and that we could offer him funds to continue creating remarkable statues. They are certainly the most remarkable things in this building and...”

“I can take your number and pass it on to him,” the assistant said, regretfully. “Or you could wait in the cafe and I can ask him if he would like to speak to you, but I could not allow you to remain here once the building is closed to visitors.”

Master Revels shrugged, passed her a card with his number and beckoned me away from the statues. I came reluctantly, unwilling to leave Jenny behind, but I had no choice. He led me into an alcove and pulled a spell around us, making it impossible for anyone to see or hear us, whatever happened.

“I had a look at the spell binding them,” he said, before I could say anything. “I might be able to break it, but that would mean that the person behind all this would get away, along with the remaining victims. We need to wait for him.”

I stared at him. “Can’t we free them now and put illusions in their place?”

“He’s got a ward wrapped around the statues,” Master Revels explained, flatly. “If the spell breaks, he’ll know about it at once and vanish. We’d never be able to catch him. If the girls are still alive in there, we will be able to free them once we catch him and find out where the others have gone. If not...it won’t matter how long we wait.”

“Ok,” I said, reluctantly. I remembered being a frog and how easy it would have been to lose myself in the frog’s mind. I guessed that it was even worse as a statue, because there would be no movement and perhaps not even any other senses as well. “I don’t understand; why did the bastard do that to them?”

“I have no idea,” Master Revels admitted. He leaned back in the alcove and started to relax, checking his pocket watch thoughtfully. “Maybe he just wants the power of warping a person, body and soul. Maybe he thinks the girls need to be preserved rather than allowing them to grow up into adults. Or maybe he’s just a sick bastard.”

I frowned. “Could he be an elf?”

“I doubt it,” Master Revels admitted. “The magic didn’t
feel
as if it had come from an elf. It felt more human. No, whoever we’re dealing with is human. I’d bet good money on it.”

He twiddled his watch and time went funny for a long moment. I discovered later that it was possible to speed up time in a small area, allowing us to pass through several hours in a handful of minutes. When he took his hand off his watch, darkness was falling outside and the building was lit up...and nearly deserted. The tourists, and schoolchildren, and whoever else came to look at old train engines and artworks were gone. The assistant had closed the doors and let her hair down, literally. I knew that she couldn’t see us watching her, but I still felt ashamed of myself, as if I was spying on her undressing herself.

“Stay here,” Master Revels muttered in my ear. The sound seemed so loud that I almost jumped. “We’ll watch and see what happens.”

The door opened, revealing a short fat man with a big smile and a taller figure, wearing a top hat not unlike the one Master Revels wore. I couldn’t make out his face, no matter how much I stared, but the assistant clearly recognised him. She was definitely a groupie, I decided, just from the way she fawned on him. It wasn’t uncommon, I was told later, for someone who was good at something to be followed by people who recognised genius when they saw it.

“Ah, Polly,” the fat man said. “I’ll leave Mr Pygmalion in your capable hands, shall I?”

“Yes, sir,” the assistant said. She
did
look a Polly. “If you’ll come right this way...?”

She led Mr Pygmalion over to the table and watched as he uncovered his latest creation. Either he was using magic to help him lift it or he was stronger than he appeared, for he didn’t seem to have any trouble carrying the statue and placing it on the table. It was yet another girl, her features hidden behind another glamour-spell. Polly cooed over it, congratulating him on his latest masterwork. I had to remind myself that she had no idea that magic existed, let alone that it had been used to make the statues. Her flattery would have been disquieting otherwise.

“There was a couple in asking about you and your work,” Polly said, once she had finished admiring the statue. “They were offering to pay you to produce...”

“I am not interested,” Mr Pygmalion said. His voice was soft and whispery, as if he was older than he seemed or was using a charm to disguise his voice. “I care only for my art.”

Polly practically swooned. “Of course, of course,” she said. “I told them that you would contact them if you were interested and...”

Master Revels stood up and strode into the room, holding his cane ahead out him. “I’m afraid that we cannot wait for your call,” he said. His voice echoed in the room, firm and resolute. “This has gone quite far enough.”

Mr Pygmalion swung around. “The Thirteen have finally decided to take a stand?”

“They have ordered me to stop you,” Master Revels said, holding up his cane as if it were a sword. “You can come with me peacefully or I will bring you by force.”

Polly, of course, had no idea what was going on. I was almost as ignorant myself, even though I hated to admit it. Who were the Thirteen and why had they ordered Master Revels to do anything – come to think of it, why was Mr Pygmalion concerned about them? Who were they to order my master to do anything?

“This is an outrage,” Polly said, finally. Both magicians ignored her. “You can get out of here right now or I will call the police.”

“I am the police,” Master Revels said, calmly. He pushed some Compulsion into his tone. “
Polly; walk over to the seat by the window, sit down and remain silent. You will stay there until given further orders
.”

I shuddered. Compulsion was an unpleasant trick and part of my training had consisted of teaching me how to resist it, not an easy task at the best of times. Polly had no defences at all and so she walked, robotically, over to the seat and sat down. I saw the horror in her eyes as her body refused to obey her and shuddered again. At least she might be out of the way when the fighting began,
if
the fighting began.

“How many girls have you taken from their parents?” Master Revels demanded, calmly. “How many lives have you ruined for the sake of your art?”

Mr Pygmalion glared at him. “Who cares about a mundane girl or two when their lives are nothing?” he demanded, angrily. “You will allow me to leave this building and walk free.”

“The Thirteen want you,” Master Revels countered. I couldn’t help, but notice the terrified expression on Mr Pygmalion’s face. The Thirteen, whoever they were, had to be something dangerous and daunting even to a powerful magician. “If you don’t come peacefully, I will have to use force.”

The two men stared at one another. “You wouldn’t risk a battle here,” Mr Pygmalion sneered, finally. “You couldn’t...”

Master Revels snapped his cane hard down and threw a spell. Mr Pygmalion deflected it with his own wand – which he had somehow hidden up his sleeve – and counterattacked with his own spell. The two combatants went at it, their powers clashing in a dozen different ways, leaving me standing on the sidelines watching helplessly. Polly was far worse off, I realised suddenly; she couldn’t even move. I swore as a burst of magic struck one of the lights and brought it down right on top of the statues, shattering and sending glass flying everywhere. The two fighters hadn’t realised, but they were damaging the room and what would happen to the girls if their statues shattered? It could kill them outright!

I scrambled forward, keeping my head low, and reached the table. Ignoring the glass scattered on the floor, I reached out for the first statue and picked it up. I almost dropped it on the floor as a bolt of green light shot out over my head, but somehow I managed to carry it back towards the corner. I muttered what reassurance I could to the statue – just in case the girl could hear me – and went back for the next statue. The two fighters were still going at it, curses and spells flying everywhere. I kept my head down as I recovered the next statue and then the one after that, trying to keep them out of the fight. I turned, about to head back to the table, when a curse blasted it into a hail of sawdust. The statues went flying everywhere.