Part 25 (1/2)

Luciano hadn't worked out what to do when they got there. But he knew from his earlier visit which room was Matt's; it had a dormer window on the second floor.

'Come on, Dottore,' he said. 'Let's concentrate and see if we can find out anything.'

All that happened was that a head stuck itself out of the window.

'Who's there?' a voice whispered. 'Luciano?'

'It's Falco,' said Luciano, relieved. 'Only we must call him Nick, here. They must have come to look after Matt while he is out of his body.'

'They?' asked Dethridge.

'Where Nick is, there is bound to be Georgia,' said Luciano, smiling.

A movement at the door and there indeed was Georgia, beckoning them in. Her eyes widened when she saw Dethridge. But this was no time for exuberant reunions. The two Talians followed her cautiously up to Matt's room, which was now looking a bit overcrowded.

Ayesha sat up in alarm when Luciano and the Elizabethan came in.

'It's all right,' hissed Georgia. 'This is Doctor Dethridge, the first Stravagante. Though I don't know why he's here.'

Luciano didn't want to explain in front of Ayesha why they had come. To let her know that there was a possibility Matt might be stranded in the other world and die in this one.

'We came back because Matt's been robbed of his talisman in Talia,' he said.

'We figured that out,' said Sky. 'Is he all right?'

'He is now,' said Luciano. He went over and looked at the figure sleeping on the bed. It did him good to see Matt's face unblemished. He lifted the pillow and revealed Matt's left hand holding the book.

'What's to stop us taking this one, Dottore?' he asked. 'Just in case Enrico doesn't succeed?'

'Enrico!' said Georgia. 'You haven't got him doing anything, have you?'

'Naye, ladde,' said Dethridge, laying a hand on Luciano's arm. 'Ye canne notte take it. We canne notte have two manifestatiounes of the same thynge existing in the same worlde at the same tyme. Do ye not thinke Maister Rudolphe wolde have done that for ye, if sich a thynge were possible?'

'Why does he talk like that?' whispered Ayesha.

'He's an Elizabethan,' said Sky.

And then Matt stretched and sat up.

Ayesha gave a little scream and was immediately shushed.

'Blimey,' said Matt. 'Has the party moved here?'

He reached out for Ayesha and she curled up against him. He smiled at her but looked shocked to see the Talians.

'What are you doing here?' he demanded.

All day, Ludo and his kin had kept a low profile. Hurried conferences and messages pa.s.sed between them had led to a change in setting for their evening rites. They agreed that the square outside the cathedral was too dangerous and instead arranged to gather near the swamp. The advantage was that the sky would be clearer to them there, un.o.bscured by buildings with towers and the moon was only three days off the full. They would be able to see this embodiment of their G.o.ddess and she would show them any would-be pursuers.

When night fell, they gathered at the appointed place, their dark cloaks pulled round their colourful clothes. But as the ritual wore on and their chanting and dancing grew more energetic, cloaks were cast off, hair shaken loose and instruments pulled out of bags. And as their sober clothes fell from them, the Manoush reverted to type and gave themselves up wholeheartedly to their intercessions for the dead.

They called to the spirits of those they had lost, summoning them by name to come back from their wanderings. Unlike people who spent their lives in one place, the Manoush had no graves to visit; their dead were burned where they fell and their ashes given to the wind. They had nowhere to bring flowers or candles so the rituals around the Day of the Dead were all about the spirits of their lost ones, calling them to join them in celebrating the start of a new year, just as the dead had started a new chapter of their lives.

The sound of chanting and wailing was bound to draw attention to the Manoush and it was not long before the city watch discovered them. Ropes were brought and the wors.h.i.+ppers, still pleading with the G.o.ddess, were taken away to the Palace of Justice.

They left without a struggle and the swamp returned to silence and heavy cloud hid the moon, like a thick veil drawn over a grieving face. If the spirits of the Manoush dead had come as summoned, they were now on their own.

Morning had broken over Islington and the sun rose on many school students who had stayed late at the Hallowe'en party and wished they hadn't. In Matt's house, Jan and Harry were up first as usual, while Andy slept and dreamed of playing rugby with a huge soprano.

Matt came downstairs cautiously feeling his face. It didn't hurt and he'd checked in the bathroom mirror that his bruises didn't show but it was as if he was wearing a mask and knew that underneath was a screaming mess of pain.

'Hi, darling,' said Jan. 'You look rough. Coffee?'

'Mm,' said Matt. 'Please.'

'Good party?'

He made a noncommittal noise then said, 'A few guys came back to sleep. Is that OK?'

'Of course. Do you think they'll want breakfast? I bet you'll all need an early night tonight.'

'If we could just give them cereal and coffee, that'd be fine,' said Matt.

He suddenly felt so glad to be home that he put his arms round Jan and gave her a kiss.

'Good Lord,' she said. 'You're in a good mood! Do I take it that you and Ayesha are back together?'

'Maybe,' said Matt and grinned, glad that his face didn't hurt too much to do it.

There were about thirty Manoush filling the gaol in the Palace of Justice. They had to be kept together in two cells, though Antonio would have preferred it if they'd had no opportunity to confer with one another.

He was not best pleased at being got out of bed just after midnight and told that were some two and a half dozen new prisoners detained under the anti-magic laws. He had not expected to have to invoke the death penalty so soon or for so many people.

But he didn't understand why the brightly dressed and wild-eyed people, men and women, were so distraught. Almost all were weeping and some were howling like animals in pain.

'What's the matter with them?' Antonio asked the gaoler. It was true that they were all liable to be sentenced to death, the Governor realised uncomfortably, but he hadn't expected this reaction.

'They do not sleep indoors,' said a familiar voice. And there was his wife, wrapped in a vast shawl, who had followed him, unnoticed, from their house. 'You know nothing about the Manoush,' said Giunta icily. 'It is like putting a wild animal in a cage, to separate them from the stars at night.'

Chapter 22.

Death by Burning Rodolfo had told Matt not to stravagate the next night and he was glad of another day before he had to face the pain of his injuries back in Talia. School was bad enough. There didn't seem to be a single sixth former without a hangover and some had called in sick.

'Thank goodness Guy Fawkes' Night is on a Sat.u.r.day this year,' said Jan Wood in the staffroom. 'Or we'd have all this to go through again. It's like teaching eighteen bowls of cold porridge.'

Her son, of course, was one of the few who were not the worse for drinking too much at the party, for the simple reason that he had not been there. But somehow everyone a.s.sumed that he had, including Chay, and thought that was why he looked a bit rough.