The Apprenticeship of Julian St. Albans (27 page)

“Yes,
sorry,” said Julian, putting the phone back up to his ear properly.
“Jacques and Alex are trying to subdue him.”

“We’re
bringing a tranquilliser,” said Lapointe. “I know he’s your
friend.”

Julian
made a distressed noise at the thought of having to shoot Jones with anything.
“Isn’t there another way?”

“Hold
my hand,” said James softly, and Julian slid his hand down to mesh with
James’ automatically. He felt something, some kind of complex burst of magic
that pulled from himself and James and somehow Jacques and even Alex, and
finally, finally Jones went limp. Jacques lowered him to the ground and Alex
pulled out a packet of latex gloves.

“I
think he’ll have to have something on him,” said Alex. “It would have
taken time to work past the amulet’s protection, or else he wouldn’t have
waited so long.”

“There’s
a trap upstairs,” said Julian, feeling rather faint. “Nat brought
your flute.”

Alex
slipped his little watch fob into the back of one glove and then whistled a
little tune, sharp and probing, and Julian could see his attention focus inward
and outward in the strange expression he got when he was listening to magic.
“Here, this,” said Alex, rifling in Jones’ pocket and bringing up a
palmful of coins. “It must have been in his change from the diner.”

Jacques
pulled out one of the little strong boxes, and the whole pile went jingling
into it. When he snapped it shut, Julian could feel the air clear, and Jones
started to stir.

“There’s
still the trap upstairs to deal with,” said James. “Jacques, can you
carry Julian, or should I?” They were still holding hands, and Julian
found himself reluctant to let go. “He needs to get inside and lay down,
that last burst took too much magic from him.”

“Sorry,
I don’t really know how to control it yet,” said Julian, swaying on his
feet.

“I’ve
got him,” said Jacques, standing and coming over to them in a few quick
strides. He swept Julian up and held him. “You’re light as a feather.”

“Tired,”
said Julian, leaning into Jacques’ warmth. “Alex, can you take us
home?”

“Yeah,”
said Alex. “James, you’ll stay here?” Alex’s flute appeared beside
him, and he plucked it out of the air. “Useful, now go be safe.”

“O’course,”
said Nat, and then the sense of him vanished, so the parking garage felt even
more empty.

Fortunately
no one had called the elevator away, and it opened as soon as Alex hit the
button. James took up vigil beside the stirring Jones, and Julian said into the
phone. “M’sorry, Jones is better but I’m just so tired.”

“We’re
almost there, get safe,” said Lapointe. “Just don’t hang up.”

“Won’t,”
said Julian, and then he yawned hugely. “Need a potion or something.”

“We’ll
give you one,” said Jacques, steady as a rock as the elevator took them up
the seven floors.

“Least
you don’t hafta carry me up the stairs,” said Julian with a little giggle.
“Lots of stairs.”

“Way
too many stairs,” said Alex, with heartfelt agreement. “All right,
ready?” He put his flute up to his lips as the elevator slowed to a stop,
and began playing while the door opened.

Julian
felt the plants reaching out to him, crying out for his magic, but he was so
depleted from helping with Jones that it was easy to hold tight to what energy
he had left. Alex’s music swept aside their need, and Julian could hear the
magic behind it now, feel it like a wall of determination, like pointed arrows
of disruption, going to break the spell on the plants, to keep the trap from
closing. They were moving down the hallway, and the miasma of draining need was
thicker but weakening fast. It was like each little arpeggio Alex played sent
light into a plant and chased away the darkness, leaving a weak but normal
plant behind.

“There’s
one last thing, some kind of trap-spell right above the door,” said
Jacques, methodically scanning in every direction. “Can you disrupt
it?”

Alex
nodded, and the music took on a different tone, a whirling dervish of
almost-dissonant notes that made Julian shiver. Jacques was right at the edge
of the now-harmless plants, and Julian could feel the spell above them now,
feel it pulsing with power, waiting to release itself on their heads. Alex’s
music swirled around it, and then Julian felt something sharp enough to make
him cry out. It lanced through the waiting spell, cutting it off from its
source somehow and leaving the empty trap hanging above them in limp, fading
tendrils.

The
front door swung inward, and Alex looked at Jacques before stepping over the
plants and right under the trap.

Something
lashed out, a last burst of energy, and Alex fell into the flat, where
invisible hands caught his flute and dragged him fully inside.

“That’s
all there is,” said Jacques, then he braced himself and jumped, over the
plants and through the front door for a teeth-jarring landing where Alex had
recently been. He let out a sigh of relief. “I’m really glad I was
right,” he said, taking Julian to the chair and settling him in it. Alex’s
body had floated itself to the couch and was laid out, pale but breathing.

“Oh,
no,” said Julian, but he didn’t have the energy to struggle out of the
blankets wrapping themselves around him. “Will he be okay?”

“He
should be, he’d broken most of the spell before he set off the rest,” said
Jacques. “It might’ve killed you, as weak as you are right now, but Alex
had reserves.”

“He
doesn’t anymore,” said Alys, coming in with a tray of steaming cups and
little bottles. “The potions are yours, I took the liberty of choosing
them out of your kit.”

“That’s
good,” said Jacques, taking one of the chairs that had made their way in
from the kitchen. “We’ll all need them.” He got out his phone and put
it on speaker, calling down to James. “Trap’s been sprung, Julian’s okay
but Alex is out cold, and they’ll both need medical attention.”

“I’ll
bring Jones up,” said James. “The car can stay illegally parked for a
little while.”

Julian
giggled. “Lapointe can take our spot instead, then.”

“I
will. I am,” said her voice, through Julian’s forgotten phone. Julian
poked at it until it was on speaker. “We’re up in the flat, Alex disabled
most of the trap but he had to spring the last of it to get us in safely. Me,
he set off the trap for me.”

“I’m
parking now,” said Lapointe. “I see James and Jones, tell them to
hold the elevator?”

“Hold
the elevator,” said Jacques, sounding amused at their game of telephone.
“That’s Lapointe, right, she’s got the doctor with her? Good, good, we’ll
see you soon.” He hung up.

Julian
could hear voices through his phone, but he had a feeling she’d stuck hers in a
pocket, because everything was distant. “Today sucks. This week
sucks,” said Julian sulkily, though he let Alys put a potion in his hands
and even drank it. He felt a rush of energy and alertness, followed by a
pervasive warmth that let him finally start to thaw out from the chilled
lassitude he’d fallen into. “Oh, that’s better,” he said, then
accepted the tea and blew on it gently before drinking. “Mmm, and
that,” he added, when it proved to be proper tea with a shot of whiskey.

“Good
lad,” said Alys, delivering the tray to the table and forcing Jacques to
take his doses. “Make sure everyone gets a dose that needs it, I’ll use
that message tablet to order more from the apothecary.”

“Will
Alex wake up?” asked Julian, looking worriedly over at him. His skin had
gone from its usual pallor to a pasty white, not even his lips had much colour
left in them, and there were dark hollows around his closed eyes. “I don’t
think I can do this without my Alex.”

“You
won’t have to, lad,” said Alys, turning a sharp eye on her charge.
“He’s resilient, and the spell didn’t drain him dry, just gave a shock to
his system.”

Julian
nodded, feeling very young and very helpless as he sipped his tea. He snuggled
deeper into his blankets, pulling his feet up into the cocoon so he was nothing
more than a tea-drinking lump when their people arrived at the open door.

And
found themselves unable to enter.

“At
least we know his wards are still working,” said James, who was already
part of them and could therefore pass the threshold and get his own dose and
tea. “I’m not sure my control’s precise enough to let you guys in right
now.”

“We’ve
helped with the wards a little,” explained Jacques, “but they’re
really keyed to Alex, and he’s still out cold.”

“I
hope his head doesn’t feel like mine,” said Jones miserably.
“Ta,” he added, when James handed him a potion through the wards,
followed by a cup of tea.

“What’s
with all the plants?” asked Geoff. “I didn’t think Julian wanted to
decorate the hall in case your new neighbours hated it.”

“They
were part of the trap,” said Julian, his voice sounding small even to
himself. “The plants and then something on the ceiling above them, that’s
the part that got Alex.”

“Ugh,”
said Alex. “You are all too loud, and it is way, way too bright.”

“Worse,
then,” said Jones glumly.

The
lights dimmed, and Jacques helped Alex sit up enough to take his potion and a
sip of tea. “We need you to let everyone in,” he said apologetically.

“Oh,
yeah.” Alex turned to see who was there; only the first car had arrived in
time to catch the elevator, so it was Lapointe, MacLean, and Geoff waiting
outside with Jones. Alex licked dry lips, then apparently decided humming would
be better on his headache. There was a little flare of blue near the edge of
the door, then he sighed and flopped back on the couch. “Just you for
now.”

“We’ll
let the other units know,” said Lapointe, walking in first. “Guess I
can hang up now,” she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and
disconnecting the call. She went to the kitchen to talk to the other police
officers while Thomas stationed himself in front of the now-closed door, and
Geoff came over to examine his patients. Jones took the other comfortable chair
and looked rather the worse for wear as he sipped his tea.

“We
have got to stop meeting like this,” said Alex, smiling wanly.

“I
think that’s my line,” said Geoff. “Are there more blankets?”
Two appeared over Alex and floated down to cover his long body, with another
going to drape over Jones. Geoff chuckled. “That’s a yes, then,
good.” He reached out and laid his hands on Alex’s temples, concentrating
on whatever it was he felt when he touched his patient.

“I
suppose it’s a good thing we’re meant to see Dr. Chesterfield tomorrow, after
all,” said Julian, listing a little until he was propped against one arm
of the chair. He finished off his cup of tea and held it out, and it floated
itself back to the kitchen for now.

“At
this rate, he may have to come here,” said James seriously. “Father
Stephen, as well, he can do a purification here with that big bathtub of
yours.”

Julian
sighed. “Do I have to have another one?” he said. “Or just
Alex?”

“Probably
Alex and Jones,” said Jacques. “You were never in direct contact with
anything, though Geoff should make sure there’s nothing lingering.”

“Alex’s
wards seem to have burned off whatever hit him,” said Geoff, taking his
hands away. “You’re lucky they’re better than your murderer’s spell.”

Alex
chuckled. “Not lucky, paranoid,” said Alex, sitting up enough that he
could drink his tea properly. “I’ve been working on these wards for months
now.”

“Both,
then,” said Geoff, shaking his head. “No more magic tonight for any
of you, just food and sleep.” He stood up and took his chair over to
Jones. “Your turn next.”

“I
feel awful,” said Jones, holding a hand out at Geoff’s gesture.
“Really awful.”

“Can
he stay here?” asked Julian. “Do we have anywhere for him to
sleep?”

“I’ll
make the couch comfortable,” said Alys, though she stayed out of sight,
“but just Jones, there’s no more space.”

Geoff
nodded. “I can’t feel any spell residue, but you should put something on
your bruises and get purified tomorrow with Alex.”

“You
can have the first bath, Paul,” said Julian. “I’m sure we can find
sleep clothes for you, and Alys can clean your work clothes for morning.”
Jones was still in the jeans and shirt he’d worn to work in the garden, with
dirt from there mingling with dust and stains from the fight.

“Your
name’s Paul?” asked Lapointe curiously.

Jones
chuckled. “Yes, though honestly everyone does call me Jones, it’s
fine.”

“Paul
can bathe now,” said Alys’ voice. “Dinner will be done when he gets
out, then the lovebirds can share their bath.”

Jones
looked amused and said, “Yes’m,” and finished off his tea. Geoff
helped him up and James directed them back to the bathroom, with another tired
hum from Alex to let them into the warded bedroom. Then a knock came at the
front door and started a parade of people that Alex refused to allow inside,
including the Agency mage that had roused himself to answer their distress
call.

“That’s
all right,” he said, when Fischer was going to protest, “As long as I
can have the tainted coin, then everything of interest to me is out here. Dr.
Tamlinson will give me a full report on the people, so the artefacts are all I
need for now.”

“Here
you are,” said James, handing over the box.

“Nice
box,” said the mage. “I’ll give this back to you as soon as I’ve
transferred the coins to one of ours.”

“Good,”
said James, and then he shut the door on everyone.

“Dinner
and Paul are both almost ready,” said Alys. “Anyone who’s not being
fed should leave.”

“I
think we all need to stay,” said Lapointe apologetically. “No one can
argue that Fischer or anyone else needs to come in when we’re already
here.”