“Yes, is not it clever? The story is such a pretty one, and I thought it up in a moment while I was flying to you. He caught sight of me as he was passing on a cloud and fell instantly violently in love, and nothing would do for him but that he should snatch me up and whisk me away to his native country. I protested, however, and to frighten me into submission he summoned a thunder-monster. But it did not answer, for the monster turned on him, and in the confusion of battle I was able to escape.”
“And what did Mr. Hsiang say to your extraordinary story?”
“Well, he is a consummate gentleman, you know, and he was so good as to agree to remain and duel the thunder-monster,” said Prunella. “Though to be sure I do not know that he understood the details of the story. However, it is of no consequence, for he will go back to China once he has seen the monster away, and will not be around to be questioned. I must say it has all fallen out charmingly.”
Zacharias had been listening in increasing perturbation.
“My dear Prunella,” he said, “do you realise what a diplomatic disaster your story will cause if it is believed? Unnatural philosophers are not on the whole known for their chivalry, but the Society could hardly disregard such an affront as a foreign magician’s attempting to run away with a young lady. The Society is already incensed by Mak Genggang’s escape, and this on top of it will occasion cryings out against all foreign magicians. I have no doubt the Society will propose a motion to break our treaty to refrain from magical war. I will have it on my desk tomorrow morning, wickedly ungrammatical and ill-spelt.”
“Oh,” said Prunella. She was only temporarily deflated, however.She brightened and said, “Then I shall tell everyone it is adead secret, not to be told to anyone.”
“In that case the whole town will know of it by the evening.”
“Yes, but not officially, you see,” said Prunella. “It will only be a rumour. I shall confide in everybody, and allow them to believe that there is a part of the secret I have told only them, because I trust them so particularly.”
She paused for reflection. “And perhaps I shall suggest to the women that I wish the story to be kept quiet because I have fallen a little in love with Mr. Hsiang, and rather regret my defence of my virtue. With the men, of course, I shall have to take a different tack.”
“Your amoral ingenuity in the pursuit of your interest is perfectly shocking,” said Zacharias severely.
“Yes, isn’t it?” said Prunella, pleased.
The rain had slackened to a thin drizzle when they approached Lady Wythe’s residence.
“I think after all you had best arrive a little later, and ask Lucy for me,” said Prunella, with the air of one who had been thinking deeply on the point. “We shall let her discover me unconscious. I am sure that will be much more convincing.”
“It is an excellent way to drive Lucy into hysterics, but I suppose that is only a slight disadvantage.”
“Oh, fiddle!” said Prunella. “Lucy is not such a poor creature. Likely she will try to slap me awake, so I will be the one to suffer!” She put on a melancholy expression, but could not quite preserve it, for the glee of the scheme would keep breaking through. “Do wait here, Zacharias, and follow in ten minutes.”
Zacharias saw her peer down at the servants’ entrance beneath the street, leap back, and steal up the steps to the front door. She peeped into the window, nodded, laid her hand upon the door, and went into the house.
Her scream cracked in Zacharias’s ears like a whip.
Zacharias was across the road before he had begun to think. He bounded up the steps and burst into the hallway. He would have been swept away on the flood if he had not grasped the doorframe in time.
The hallway had turned into a river. It rushed away past Zacharias, flowing along the steps and down the road. Prunella was flailing along determinedly. The waters surged above her head, and the dark curls vanished. Zacharias’s heart stopped—but she emerged at the end of the hall, struggled up the stairs and clung to the banister, panting.
“I am well,” she said, though her appearance contradicted her. She was wild-eyed, her lips pale. “Oh, I could not bear to drown! It must be quite the worst way to die!” A fit of coughing overtook her, but when she was able to take a breath, she said:
“Zacharias, open my reticule, if you please!”
Zacharias had almost forgotten the familiars. He had secreted Prunella’s reticule in his coat. He fumbled for it, and the familiars spilt out, squawking, neighing and swearing respectively.
“What shall I do?” said Prunella.
“Find the source,” said Zacharias. The water continued to mount, though he could not tell where it came from. He tasted salt on his lips. “The puddle and the fire were pure magic, using merely the semblance of the elements, but this is real water, drawn from elsewhere. The source must be here—find it, and we can stop it up.”
The unicorn had struggled through the water to the stairs. Prunella released the banister and climbed onto its back. It had grown enough to be able to support her, though Prunella looked as though she were sitting astride a large dog.
“Darling Youko! Nidget, Tjandra, find us the source of the hex, if you can, my dear ones.”
The simurgh was already dipping in and out of the water, swooping down like a seagull sighting fish, and sneezing and shaking its child’s head vigorously when it emerged again. Nidget clambered on top of the clock that stood in the hallway—a handsome antique thatLady Wythe preserved more in memory of her grandparents than because it kept the time particularly well. This incident was likely to spoil its beauty and ruin what remained of its accuracy, for the clock was half-submerged.
Zacharias was busy casting spells to stop the water from rising any further, and to identify its source, but he was distracted by an indignant chirp from Tjandra.
“It is unkind to call Nidget a coward, Tjandra!” replied Prunella. “I am sure Nidget is doing as much as it can, and neither of us would wish it to drown. You can fly, but if Nidget were to fall into the water it could not swim—Oh!”
For Nidget had leant out over the side of the clock, and dropped abruptly into the waters.
