The Apprenticeship of Julian St. Albans (34 page)

Alex
laughed. “I should’ve known you’d make me pay for calling you in,” he
said, but he sounded cheerful about it. “Will you be all right without me
for a little while, love?”

“Go
on, I’ve got my Guardians to hold my hand while they x-ray me,” said
Julian, though he claimed a kiss before letting them wheel him away from Alex.

James
did come hold his hand, giving him a wink as his gurney was rolled through the
halls. “Full service Guarding,” he teased.

“Don’t
let it get out, or everyone will expect hand-holding,” said Julian,
feeling the warmth of James’ magic trickling into him much as Alex’s had.
“Does it make your, you know, vision sharper or whatever?”

“It
lets me see more, yes,” said James, sounding amused. “I knew you’d
figure it out.”

Jacques
was paying more attention to the corridor than them, which Julian felt was only
right. “I hope it was just him, I mean, I like you guys, but I hope we’re
done now.”

“We’re
done enough to send your Jones home, I think,” said James, “but
Jacques and I will stay until we understand what happened and know you’re
really out of danger.”

Julian
felt something inside him unclench and he laughed a little raggedly. “I’m
really glad you said that, even if it does mean four people to one bathroom
still.”

“We’d
never leave you vulnerable,” said Jacques, as they made it into x-ray. He
cleared the rooms and then he and James took up posts by the two doors, looking
dangerous and immovable.

“Well,”
said Dr. Chesterfield, “do you think you can move yourself over here, or
shall I ask your Guardian to move you?”

Julian
giggled. “If you help, I think I can walk,” he said, though the
wobbly way his knee felt when he moved it made him wonder if that was true.
 

“I’ll
brace you,” said the doctor, coming in on Julian’s injured side and
helping him get into the machine.
 

A
number of uncomfortable-to-painful positions later, and Julian was settled into
a wheelchair that Alex pushed, so the Guardians could bracket them on their way
to a proper room.

Dr.
Chesterfield waved them off, helping the tech get the bulky films ready for
developing instead. “I’ll be down soon to start your healing, but they
should have something for the pain and swelling once you get down there.”

“Oh,
thank goodness,” said Julian with a weak laugh. “I mean, I understand
you didn’t want to screw up the imaging, but my knee feels awful.”

“We’ll
take care of you, love,” said Alex, kissing the top of Julian’s head.
 

Horace
hopped down from where he’d been keeping watch on Jacques’ shoulder and
snuggled up in Julian’s lap, chirping until Julian petted him. Julian put all
his attention on the bird, and the comforting presence of Alex at his back, and
not on the strange feeling of being pushed in the chair, or the increasingly
nauseating waves of pain coming off his injured knee.

“I’m
sorry we let you get hurt,” said James quietly, once Julian was settled
into a private room with some pain pills and a cup of awful hospital tea.

“It’s
not your fault,” said Julian, still petting Horace. “I think he
focuses on my magic, and not me or my person, somehow, I can’t really explain
it, but the doll slipped through everything because it was made of me, a
little.”

“You
put a little of yourself in the bindweed and wormwood seeds,” said Alex
thoughtfully. “And having your hair would have helped with that sort of
magic, even after my spell.” He kissed Julian’s hair and cradled him
close, having quite shamelessly joined him on the bed, though on the side with
the uninjured knee.

“Do
you still have the doll?” asked Jacques. “We should see if we can
safely disassemble it.”

“Doesn’t
Murielle have to photograph it first or something?” asked Julian, hand
going to the pocket where the doll was still nestled. “I would like it
destroyed safely and soon, though.”

“We
do have to catalog it for evidence,” said Lapointe, slipping past James
and into the room. “But I already have permission to let your Guardians
destroy it rather than taking it into evidence, since you were found by a
neutral officer of the law fleeing pursuit from your kidnapper.”

“Good,”
said all the men in unison, which made her laugh.

“What
other news do you have? Is Officer Green okay?” asked Julian, trying to
take his mind off his own pain until the pills could start working.

“Green
is fine, Fenway didn’t manage to influence him, though Green reported that he
talked at him the whole way to magical custody,” said Lapointe, taking the
visitor’s chair with a soft, weary sigh. “Said he was a weird mix of
boring and crazy.”

“I
don’t suppose he gave a villain monologue?” asked Alex. “I still have
no idea what he was up to.”

Lapointe
chuckled. “Apparently not, though they are asking when you can go look
over the scene, apparently he was setting up some sort of ritual in a parking
lot?”

“Yeah,
I messed up his pattern by smashing through the pots, I figured it might delay
his plans long enough for you guys to find me,” said Julian, not at all
repentant. “There was definitely something around there, I kept getting
little jolts of magic off it, really, I dunno, pure ones?”

“Maybe
you were connecting to the magic source that used to be around there
somewhere,” said Alex. “They closed it off when they put in the
Underground station, it was too unstable, but nothing like that is ever
completely closed.” He looked terribly put out as he added, “I was a
bit upset, I used to like the fairy gardens that were fed by it, but everyone
else was happier to get more transit.”

“Not
everyone can afford cabs all the time,” said Lapointe, looking amused at
Alex’s pout. “Maybe Fenway agreed with you that the source should be open,
would a sacrifice have done that?”

Alex
shrugged. “It’s not really my area, but I don’t honestly think that Fenway
uses magic the same way we do, anyway.”

“What
d’you mean?” asked Julian, slurring a little as the narcotic started its
work. He leaned more into Alex and let his eyes close for a moment, just
listening and feeling the people around him, familiar and safe.

“Well,
most people are taught magic according to the same system, or one of a few
systems that are all,” Alex made a gesture, “you know, from the same
school of thought. I mean, Duckworth and I were literally taught by the same
person, so it wasn’t hard to know what he might be up to. But Fenway is the
kind of crazy that sees the world from a different angle than the rest of us, I
think, and that translates to using magic in ways that would just never occur
to a traditionally educated mage.”

“That’s
why he’s so hard to Guard against,” said James, sounding disgusted.
“He’s always doing things we can’t anticipate, because we don’t understand
them.”

“It’s
really annoying,” said Jacques with a harrumph.

Julian
giggled.

“And
your meds are working,” said Alex, kissing the tip of his nose.
“D’you want to nap awhile?”

“Only
if I can actually nap on you this time. Don’t think I didn’t notice you got out
of being my pillow in Geoff’s infirmary,” said Julian.

“I
promise to stay,” said Alex, helping Julian get snuggled down under the
covers more, but still very pointedly draped over Alex. “We’ll wake you
for the doctor,” he said, kissing Julian’s hair.

“If
you don’t,” said Julian with a big yawn, feeling the world going all fuzzy
around him, “I’m sure he will.” Then he slept.

CHAPTER 22

Julian
was allowed to check out and rest at home after his healing session, since his
knee, though strained with some damaged tissue, wasn’t actually broken. Alex
tucked him into bed and then went to the crime scene, not returning until late
in the night when he snuggled up to Julian, exhausted and chilled.

The
next morning Julian was feeling much restored by several meals and the hours
and hours of blissful sleep he’d been allowed between those meals, not to
mention the poultices, potions, and pain pills. He’d refused, along with Alex,
to wear anything but pyjamas, and the two of them were cuddled up while
Lapointe made a kind of murder board over the fireplace, after the painting
that usually hung there was safely stowed away by the brownies.

“So,
that’s the doll Fenway was using to control you,” said Alex, while
Murielle tacked up a picture of the hateful little thing. “He force-grew
the witch grass and bindweed seeds, and then sprouted the wormwood and used
that as the heart of the poppet. There’s also a lock of Julian’s hair in there,
as well as some earth and a dead bee.”

“Oh,
no, I like bees,” said Julian sadly. “I wonder where he got it?”

“Alex
turned those bits over, and forensics says probably the St. Albans estate,”
said Lapointe. “Emmy’s been very helpful, and it’s the right species and
has the expected assortment of pollen and other trace evidence on it. The
soil’s from the greenhouse, we think, that’s still going through the,” she
waved her hands, “you know. Machines.”

“It’s
still a lot of effort to go through,” said Julian. He stood up and limped
over to the little map she’d tacked up, with the locations of the three murders
Xed in and the parking lot and their apartment circled. “We’re awfully
close to that site, I must not’ve been gone long when Horace found me.”

“We
sent him after you right away,” said Alex, proud. “And then got the police
on the case while we got dressed to head out and find you.”

“Julian
has personal connections to two out of the three murder sites, too,” said
Murielle thoughtfully.

“Three,”
said Julian. “I won an Easter egg hunt in the maze when I was six, it was
in the papers and everything.”

“And
the old source was in the parking lot somewhere?” asked Jacques, going
over to stare out the window as if he could see it from there.

“Right
where all the smashed pots were,” said Alex. “He definitely wanted to
do something with it, probably re-open it, though I still have no idea
why.” He sounded frustrated and tired about it, and Julian curled back up
in the chair with him and soothed him with a kiss, glad to be off his sore
knee.

“I’ll
have someone ask him about it,” said Lapointe. “That might get him
talking on the right track, anyway. Usually his sort loves to go on about
whatever their obsession is, but so far he’s just been babbling about
nothing.”

“Where
does he live, did they figure that out?” asked Alex. Lapointe read the
address off her notepad, and it was nearby, right near where Alex recalled the
magical source had been. “Practically next door to the old fairy gardens,
maybe his property value’s gone down.”

They
talked more about their theory, but research showed that property values
actually went up — the magical source had been small, erratic, and prone to
flaring up with wild magic. The Underground was considered much more valuable
to the buildings around it than a weak, unpredictable magical source, fairy
gardens or no. More theories were bandied about, but it seemed strange to
everyone that he’d want to reopen the source that wasn’t actually on his
property, and would therefore not be under his control, legally or magically.

They
were in the middle of a huge lunch when Officer Tiny knocked to be let in.
“An Armistead is asking for you,” he said, gesturing to the irritated-looking
forensics man standing a good step back from the warded doorway.

“I
want to know if Benedict and St. Albans would come look at something at the
residence,” said Armistead irritably. “Ms. Eberly would like a second
opinion.”

“Is
that a good idea?” said Julian. “I thought I was supposed to stay in
here until you were sure of how he’s controlling people. Are you under
control?”

Armistead
rolled his eyes. “As if I’d be so easily overtaken. Fenway’s undergoing
magical questioning all afternoon, anyway. If you’re not too busy?” His
tone was dismissive and grating, and Julian was reminded of why no one liked
the man.

“It’s
up to our Guardians,” said Alex, nudging at Julian to resume eating.
Julian did, knowing they wouldn’t let him out until his plate was cleaned, at
the very least. “If they okay it, we’ll dress once we’re done eating and
come down.”

Armistead
made and irritated noise. “Fine, but do hurry. Some of us are still
working.”

Alex
cheerfully flipped off the back of him as he stomped off. “I bet that
hurt,” he said gleefully.

Officer
Tiny laughed. “It did seem to pain him a bit,” he said, after
checking that Armistead was out of earshot and safely in the elevator.
“See you in a few, Julian.” He closed the door on Julian’s wave,
mouth too full for comment.

They
ate quickly and quietly after that, and soon enough everyone but the brownies
was crammed into the elevator together, even the police officers, with Julian
leaning on Alex’s borrowed cane. “No use guarding a door with no one
behind it,” Tiny had reasoned.

Although
the house was technically within walking distance, Jones crowded all of them
into the car with Tiny up front and drove. “At least it gives me something
to do,” he said, pulling out of the garage. “My poor car’s probably
been pining.”

At
that Julian felt a little thread of longing that he traced back to Alex’s
amulet. “Oh, I think it has,” he said, grinning to think that at
least some of their magic was working as intended. Horace, too, was doing very
well, and proud as anything to have facilitated Julian’s rescue. He was tucked
in Alex’s shirt pocket, having insisted in his own way on coming along.

Julian
wasn’t about to argue.

The
drive was quite short, and the police cars had to make space for Jones to park
the big limo. Several thermoses of Alys’ good black tea were enough to keep
anyone from minding too much. They headed inside in a pack, though Jones stayed
with the car, and Julian felt more than a little crowded. He was pointedly kept
in the middle of Guardians, policemen, and Alex’s protection, so he only
managed glimpses as they made their way to the back garden. Julian was very
glad for both his potions and the cane, and grateful that they kept to his slow
pace through the winding hallways.

Fenway’s
house was narrow and cramped, made doubly so by the clutter adorning every
nook, cranny and surface including the floor in many places. It reminded Julian
a little of Alex’s work room, if Alex had been mad as a hatter and more
interested in plants. Everywhere he looked, Julian would spot some bit or bob
of something that he remembered seeing in Alex’s work room, hiding in amongst
seed packets, flower pots empty and full, piles of papers, magazines and books,
broken toys, old dolls and hundreds of other strange, inexplicable items.

“A
disordered mind can find cracks in magic that no logical man can hope to
see,” said Alex, sounding worried rather than reassured. “We may
never know what he was doing unless he tells us.”

“He’s
in custody,” said Lapointe, sounding annoyed in a way that Julian was
learning to recognise only covered her concern.

“And
now his intended victim is being brought to his house,” said Jacques,
purely worried. “I’m really not sure this is a good idea.”

Then,
before anyone else could object, they hit the back of the house and fanned out
into the garden. The area was small but full of plant life, as neatly cared for
as the house was messy. There were herbs and flowers in intricate beds with
paths of white stone between them, and at the very back of the garden was the
last thing Julian expected to see — a wish tree.

“Oh,
how beautiful,” said Julian, stepping forward ahead of the group. He
followed one white path around, worry for his own injury secondary to his
concern for the tree. Its leaves were sparse and none too green, though there
were few coins driven into its bark, and the wishes fluttering in its branches
disguised the state of it at first glance. “It’s ailing,” said
Julian, stepping forward and reaching for the tree.

“Are
you sure that’s a good-” said someone behind him, and then Julian’s hand
touched the bark, and something reached out snatched him away.