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“Do you want to come?”
My low words did not reach through the ceiling, but Mrs. Hudson glanced up from the sewing supplies she organized.
“I thought you needed a distraction?”
“I do.” I stepped fully into her back bedroom, away from the hallway that would let pieces of my words carry upstairs. “But I can use a compound that doesn’t require you to stay here. Were you wanting to come?”
“Yes,” she admitted, “but I promised to help you hide. You said I’ll get to meet him at Christmas, and I doubt he will have time to converse, anyway. I can wait.”
I hesitated, studying her. Considering Holmes’ tendency to use me in his experiments, I had no qualms about using the stronger compound to keep him here, but that one also required monitoring. Did I need to worry about him following us if I used the safer one to let her come?
Possibly, but I should also be able to conceal our trail. She shooed me out of the room before I could decide, however.
“I’ll be fine, Doctor.” A smile applied the assurance to our discussion even as louder words laid a blind. “I’m using the powder you gave me, and Mr. Holmes will be here if I need something. I’ll have an early luncheon up in a minute. Be sure to eat before you leave.”
Contemplation relaxed in a faint chuckle. “You are sure?” She nodded. “Alright. Thank you.”
A silent gesture shooed me upstairs once more, and this time I obeyed. Holmes glanced up from his chemistry equipment as I claimed my chair.
“Problem?”
That I should know about, he left unsaid, but I indicated a negative.
“Medical. She’ll tell you if necessary, but I doubt there will be a need. Do you have any plans for this afternoon?”
“Lestrade asked me to bring him my notes, and I am out of tobacco, but both of those can wait.” A glance announced curiosity, but he set aside a clean beaker to start wiping the next without voicing the question. Footsteps on the stairs prevented me from finding another topic.
“Here we are.” Mrs. Hudson’s easy movements ignored Holmes’ searching gaze to spread plates, silverware, and a warm but simple luncheon over our table. A gesture confirmed I knew which plate was mine, then halfhearted chiding for “staring” let me claim my seat before Holmes crossed the room. He quickly claimed the tea, stirring in far too much sugar as she disappeared back down the stairs.
“Where is your appointment?”
Safer than asking what my appointment was, but I still used a bite to delay my reply.
“Across town.” A gesture referenced the slightly early meal, hoping he would not take the question further. “She refused to let me skip luncheon for it.”
A hum acknowledged the humor, but he focused on his plate rather than pressing for details, to my relief. He would see through a falsehood in a heartbeat, but I could hardly tell him my afternoon’s plan. Holmes did not know of the magical—and never could know of the magical. I had no wish to end up in Bedlam.
Not that Mrs. Hudson agreed with me. She had thought Holmes able to accept the truth with proof, but only until I had detailed last year’s conversation. Reluctant caution had promised to help me hide from our resident detective—a goal made slightly simpler by his steadfast reliance on the “logic” that would prevent him from following me today. Meat disappeared around bites of casserole and sips of the heavily sugared tea. Mrs. Hudson would be pleased to know he liked her casserole enough to get seconds, but my opening did not appear until just after I finished eating. His face abruptly paled, and he dropped his spoon to flee the room. I ignored the clatter to follow.
“Holmes?”
Retching answered me. I waited for the noise to end before knocking again.
“Holmes, open the door!”
Another retch, then the lock grudgingly clicked. I found him leaning over the drain, pale and shaky as only vomiting can induce. One hand checked for a fever I would never find.
“Symptoms?”
“Nau—sea,” he answered around another gag. “Slightly—lightheaded. Mostly—nausea. Did you—eat the cheese?”
I shook my head. “Too recent. What did you have this morning?” A moment reviewed our breakfast. “Mrs. Hudson made fish this morning.” That I had barely touched. I would apologize for the scapegoat later.
“Had—dock,” he confirmed. Dry heaves confirmed his stomach empty, and I backtracked to the sitting room for a glass of water—and to hide that I checked the time. He swished the first mouthful then started sipping.
“Either haddock doesn’t like you, or that batch had gone off. Would have to be barely enough to cause this, if Mrs. Hudson didn’t notice.” I checked again for a fever. “This will probably last an hour or two, but you won’t want to leave the flat today. I will—”
Hurried footsteps sounded outside, then two fists started pounding on the front door. Mrs. Hudson reached the lock in seconds to send Wiggins thundering up the stairs.
“Doctor!”
Danger!
Worry chimed even as logic announced the most likely cause, and I stepped out of the washroom as he came into view. Urgency nearly skidded to a halt in front of me, though rapid panting still glanced at the door hiding Holmes from view—he knew what I had planned, if now how.
“It’s Billy! Please, he’s staring into space and won’t answer our calls and none of us know what to do and—”
“Breathe, son.” The words cut off as I placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m coming. Holmes?”
“Go,” he managed, probably flicking away the question though I could not see him. “Have Mrs. Hudson—bring fresh water.”
“Send for Agar if something changes. I’ll be back as soon as I may.”
Another retch provided my only reply, and I grabbed my bag as cover on my way out the door. Mrs. Hudson waved as we passed, pitcher already in hand, but I waited for the flat to disappear behind us before voicing my question.
“Billy is fine?”
“No crazier than normal,” he quipped “They’re waiting in the alley. Can I ride too?”
“I don’t see why not, though that will be up to Father Christmas.”
Excitement quickened his pace. The Irregulars knew of the magical after sharing a home with Lenora for so many months, but they had seen only their sylph guardians up close. A born immortal and a full elf meant every Irregular would be home today.
Geez, it’s warm here.
There’s a reason we don’t like Brazil, you know!
Can we take off yet? This alley needs a breeze.
Though only Wiggins knew why they were receiving visitors. Reindeer complaints carried well into the street, but Nicolas waited to hail me until we turned the corner.
“There you are!” A glance checked behind me. “Do we need to worry about a tail?”
I shook my head. “He will be busy for a while.” In the washroom, though I would not voice as much. Nicolas’ smirk said he caught it anyway, and I focused on the elf beside him.
Pointed ears similar to a faery’s announced elves a related member of the fae, but the sharper face held a different kind of elegance. Short hair highlighted the stylized beard typical of older elves, and slender fingers would have greater dexterity than a dwarf’s without crossing into the spellcrafting ability of the faeries. My amulet warned of lingering magic on his spectacles—probably to reveal glitches in whatever project he had abandoned to rush to London—but while he studied me with just as much curiosity, his expression held none of the distrust I had come to expect from most magicals.
“This is Kithaln.” Nicolas waved us to a seat even as careful pronunciation emphasized the separate ‘t’ and ‘h’ in the name. “Kithaln, Doctor John Watson and Wiggins. Wiggins leads the Irregulars, and John led Lenora to the Irregulars after Nina detected his amulet. He’s the one who messaged me.”
“For which I’m grateful.” Less than three feet tall, he used the sleigh’s height to more easily reach my hand. “I would not have returned home until much closer to Christmas without Mr. Kringle’s missive.” Sky blue eyes slightly brighter than his daughter’s noted our surroundings. “She is near here?”
“The other side of town,” I answered. “Nicolas’ sleigh better hides the magical, as I understand it, so we can land on the roof instead of sneaking you through alleys into the courtyard. He asked me along to ensure you do not get lost. He has only been twice, and I doubt he has his map this time of year.”
“No need, when you can guide me in,” he confirmed with a grin. Navigation also served as an excuse to come at all. My own feeble searching wanted closure, after all, and I would never pass up the chance to see my oldest friend.
“This street?”
I leaned over the side to scan the passing buildings, getting my bearings despite the unusual angle.
“Next one,” I finally answered, “and two east. That chaotic sawtooth roof is the courtyard. Will you be able to land on that?”
“Dasher?”
Best not, boss. It’s too…irregular. Ha! How about the flat roof to the south?
“That’s Mr. Hobbs’ shop,” I confirmed. “He knows of the magical, but his assistant doesn’t.”
“No fear of them hearing us,” Nicolas promised absently, most of his attention on our landing. “The addendum that let us come today hides the sleigh and everything related by default. Even the young ones below cannot see us yet.”
Addendum. It probably modified the law preventing humans from traveling to the Pole any day but the summer solstice, but I did not recall him mentioning an addendum before. I would ask later.
For the moment, however, Dasher and Dancer guided the sleigh to Mr. Hobbs’ roof, and we slowed to a halt with barely a bump. Silence suggested Nicolas gave the reindeer a few orders before he turned to us, magic flaring without obvious effect.
“The alley will remain empty for a while. Kithaln, I’ll take John and Wiggins to just outside the courtyard door, and you can follow as soon as you note the area.”
Because the vanishing act that every magical could do did not easily take a non-magical passenger, I finished. Kithaln nodded agreement as Nicolas positioned himself on my right, and his hand on my arm became my only warning before we vanished from the sleigh.
Not that I needed a true warning, when Nicolas made travel so simple. Where some humans complained that magical travel felt like being torn apart and pieced back together, I had always experienced it more as walking through a door. I felt no indication of movement or even displaced air before we appeared in the alley a moment later. Footsteps sounded behind us the next breath, and I turned to find Kithaln surveying the area. Clear delight immediately bloomed.
“She is on the other side of that wall.”
“The entrance is here.” One hand carefully widened the opening enough for Nicolas to fit, then Wiggins led the way into the courtyard.
Where well over two dozen children lived and played. A reading lesson took place against the far wall. Several appeared to inventory foodstuff in their pantry. Three of the youngest peeked out of a nearby cubby.
And sky blue eyes looked up from Lenora’s spot against the alley wall. A smile of greeting for me became surprise when Nicolas entered, then overjoyed excitement.
“Da!” She lunged, tackling her father in an embrace made stronger by her half-human height. Only his position against the wall kept him upright.
“Lenora.” The name reached the air barely a murmur, buried as it was in her hair, but strong arms returned the hug to suggest several worried nights. “My girl, how I’ve missed you.” He leaned back to cup her face. “It grieved me to hear of your Mum.”
Loss twisted her face to make her hide in his shoulder again, though her words carried clearer than his.
“Her last words told me she loved me, but second to last regretted not seeing you again. She loved you too.”
“And I her.” He waited until she sat back up before glancing at the many watching silently, most with wide smiles. “Show me your home? I think Mr. Kringle has a few minutes before we must leave.”
“That I do.”
Nicolas’ agreement ended the silence rather quickly, and two dozen young ones gathered in two overlapping groups. Older children gravitated toward Kithaln while the younger aimed for Nicolas, and questions flew almost too fast for me to follow. Months of living with Lenora had sparked rampant curiosity such that the sylph could not always satisfy. They would take the opportunity presented to learn as much as they could.
Not that either magical minded. Nicolas edged slightly away to better divide the two groups, where Charlie’s question started a basic lesson on the workings of the magical world.
And I parked myself against the wall beside him. Mrs. Hudson would not expect me home for a while, anyway.