Red, White and Blue (Book Two of The Powder Trail)

Chapter Twenty Three: Magic - Enlightenment - Redemption

When Danvers got back to the Faculty of Demonic Speculation, he climbed the steps and searched for the bell-pull. He'd never needed to use it before, because he'd always had a set of keys. 

He wondered wretchedly whether they were all in the Faculty lounge together – Miss Syal, Jack, Dr Petrescu, even Mrs Darwin – poring over the papers and sipping coffee, or listening to one of Jack's war-stories. He wondered whether they all got along perfectly now that he was gone.

It wasn't a sensible thing to wonder, he knew, but he was feeling despondent today. He didn't know how he was going to wait – while every second brought Miss Syal closer to peril – until the moon was high in the sky before reading out the spell. And he didn't know how he was going to ask for the return of Jack's memories and mean it.

He had barely located the bell-pull when the door swung open to reveal the person he had been thinking about more than any other that morning. She was obviously on her way out, because she was wearing a Tuscan straw bonnet, and the mint green dress she always put on when she was going to meet Miss Manda, who couldn't bear to see her in red.

She looked – yes, perhaps she looked happy. Her cheeks had a guarded glow, like a banked fire, and her shoulders weren't as droopy and despondent as they had been when he'd seen her last.

"Mr Danvers," she said, giving him a look of panicky politeness.

Danvers took off his hat. "How are you, Miss Syal?"

"I'm very well, thank you, sir." She looked for a moment as though she was going to say something else, but thought better of it. "I hope you've managed to find a new situation?"

Danvers waved a hand airily. "There's no great rush. I have a little money saved. I only stopped by to bring you this."

He held out the box containing the bracelet, and the panicky look on Miss Syal's face intensified. Probably, when a man started giving her gifts, it was the beginning of the end. Still, she took the box, gave him a nervous smile, and motioned for him to come inside.

"I've been so spoilt this week," she said, fumbling with the ribbon that Yelavitch had grudgingly tied around the box. "Yesterday, Dr Petrescu bought me a new gown, and Jack gave me that comb of bone from the jigsaw room that everybody says is a knuckle-duster."

She was talking very quickly now, because she had managed to get the lid off the box, and was probably dreading the sight of some severed body-part, or – worse – an engagement ring. "Dr Petrescu says it's a fake, but a very good one – and on that account, probably a work of art in its own right."

She peeled back the tissue paper to reveal the bracelet, and gave Danvers a smile of undisguised relief. "Thank you, sir. It's lovely." She took it out of the box and examined the inscription. "Unbreakable," she said cheerfully. "Is that in contrast to the poor doll?"

Danvers smiled. "I just saw it and was reminded of your extraordinary resilience. I hope you like it," he added, wondering whether it would be rude to urge her to try it on right away. He was sure he wouldn't be able to relax until it was very firmly wrapped around her wrist, but he was also worried that something magical might happen – that the bracelet would snap shut like a manacle, or tighten around her wrist until she screamed.

But she didn't try it on – she just twisted it absent-mindedly in her fingers – and Danvers was suddenly struck by the thought that perhaps she knew what it was. She had read a lot, hadn't she? And Yelavitch had said this was a very common spell.

"I was just on my way to meet Manda in Christchurch meadow," she said, indicating the mint-green dress, as though this explained everything. "But, if you don't mind, I'll take you to see Jack before I go – he'd love to see you again."