Chapter 26 London
Chapter twenty-six
London
The room smelled of rotting flowers. No, it wasn’t quite that.
Eames couldn’t pinpoint what the scent was, but that might have something to do with the thick black hood over his head.
He shifted his feet. The carpet was very thick and luxurious.
It reminded him of the way ones shoes sank into grass in summer.
“Give your report, Harold,” said a voice.
To his dismay, he heard his own voice shake as he described how he’d been chased out of Ormdale by a small but deranged dragon.
“You mustn’t blame yourself,” the voice said, and he could have wept with relief.
“The girl used your chivalrous instincts against you. She wounded you and set a dangerous animal on you. These sorts of women have no principles at all. But you will be all the more on your guard next time, won’t you?
Now. Tell me about everyone you met there. ”
“I already told—“
“I want to hear it again,” said the voice calmly. “I want to know everything. Everything you noticed, no matter how small. Especially the people, Harold. Exactly as if I were there.”
It was exhausting, but he followed the instructions as best he could.
When he had concluded, the Master prodded him once more, “Was there anyone who seemed at a loose end? Lost? Between? Hungry?”
Eames considered. He’d been surprised by the prosperous state of the village, which was full of new cottages, as well as a very presentable school.
“I don’t think… Wait.”
Between.
It hadn’t been at the abbey or the village, but between the two, on the little train that took the tourists up to the menagerie gate.
A young man with hungry eyes and restless hands.
“Yes,” he said, surprised. “There was someone.”
“Good,” the voice said, and Eames could tell he was pleased with him. Tears sprang to Eames’s eyes beneath the hood. “Tell me.”