The Warlock (The Cave Chronicles #1)

11: The Rumour on the Bridge

Forrest and Riider had already left by the time Penny awoke the next day. She was curious about the nature of their patrols, and was mildly annoyed that Blythe had hidden the intricacies of Gardien life from her. The enigmatic leader filled her with both fear and anger, but she refused to allow the wraith, short as he was, to intimidate her, not in the way he clearly subdued Forrest and Riider. Unlike everyone else in Gardien, she was not a Creep by birth, and did not ascribe to Creep cultures. In her world, the Mason family was unknown, hidden beneath the pavements of London.

After getting washed and dressed, and refreshing herself with some green Gecko tea, she went out for a walk. In Scare, the newspaper stand selling The Cave Post caught her eye almost immediately. Luckily, she wasn't on the headline, but there was a small article near on the bottom right that had Penny's irate photograph in it. Her eyes narrowed the more she read, and when she finished she was ready to wring James Derby's neck.

"Anger problems my arse," she muttered, flinging the newspaper back on the stand.

"Erm, excuse me?"

Behind her, a young wraith stared with wide, fretful eyes. She tried to put on her kindest face, worried that the wraith had read the article and thought that she was a loose cannon, but he simply pressed a crisp white envelope in her hand and ran away. She regretted opening it as soon as she read the first line.

Spinead.

You are to come to my home immediately for preliminary house duties. As my mother and father have come over for the Great Tree Festival, they are hosting an important dinner party tomorrow night – all workers need to go through the schedule and clean the dinner room. You are also in dire need of an etiquette lesson, which Archer is only too happy to give you.

There is no carriage, so you will have to come by foot.

Do not keep me waiting.

"How do you know where I am?" hissed Penny before trudging over to Gold Street. Her stomach rumbled and she wished that Blythe had waited five minutes before sending the letter. Breakfast would have to wait.

....

There was a line of perfectly operational gold carriages perched uselessly outside the Mason residence. Penny wiped the sweat from her forehead, cursing herself for rushing to the house – she should have made Blythe wait, that would have shown him. The Masons' skeleton footmen ambled by the front door, looking decidedly uncomfortable. She turned to observe the cause of their aggravation.

An even bigger carriage was rolling down the drive behind her. She quickly made her way to the front door to watch it, as the glass wheels, solid silver frame and shiny black 'M' on the roof looked threatening enough to squash her without hesitation. The carriage stopped at the end of the drive; the driver rushed off his seat and opened the door of the carriage, bowing so low his shiny white forehead almost touched the ground.

A bony woman stepped out, scanning the area with her narrow, scarlet eyes. Her hair had been straightened and glossed and the shine matched her high heeled shoes and long, sharp fingernails. She wore an outfit that just looked too fancy for a normal day: a sleek black dress with red silk stitching. The man who came out after her looked just as silly in a black suit. Blythe obviously took after his mother; they both had button noses and pointed chins. His father looked more rounded, and his eyes twinkled.