“Tube?” Farran hissed it in Vega’s ear. There were too many people between them and the stop, though. More than enough to slow them down.
She shook her head abruptly. Then, inexorably, as if drawn like a magnet, Vandermeer spotted them and started moving toward them. He held out his hand. “There you are!”
Farran felt it before he saw anything. Vega’s hands had come up, spread out, a gesture of placation. Or at least, that was what it was supposed to look like. One of her hands flipped from palm up to palm down, as if she were smoothing something out or brushing something away, and she was humming. He couldn’t hear words, just the pitches. It wasn’t a song he knew, but it was like the singing she’d done with the well.
Vandermeer’s chin came up, as if a wave had pushed against him. The people around him didn’t react, other than the usual jostle and bustle of a city street. Vandermeer staggered back on one foot, then braced himself. “You, there!” His voice was clear and carried well.
Farran could at least play along in the right direction. He looked around, as if Vandermeer had to mean someone else, and he caught Vega doing the same. Both of them shrugged at each other, glanced at the people around them, joining in on the confusion. Then he felt Vega’s hand rest on his wrist, squeeze, and disappear again. He didn’t know how to read that.
“You can’t fool me!” Vandermeer’s voice was even more clear.
“What are you shouting about, mate?” A voice from elsewhere in the crowd, nearer the corner.
“Some madman.” That was a woman, older and disapproving. Farran suspected he might not care to spend too much time with her in the ordinary course of things.
“I’m no madman! You can’t fool Tom O’Bedlam.” Vandermeer was trying to come closer to them, but the people between him and Vega and Farran weren’t making that any too easy. Farran heard Vega’s inhale, but she didn’t say anything, just tugged his arm.
“Oh, go sleep it off.” That had the gruff no-nonsense tone of someone who’d seen a lot of drunk men in the morning and had no patience for it.
“Tom O’Bedlam wants no drink!” There was more of a sharp pitch to it now, something urgent. He sang, then, the line from the song, Farran knew it well enough. He then started patting at his pockets, his trousers and his coat, both. “I don’t need this either!”
Vandermeer started pulling things out, a leather wallet, then a handful of coins. He flung them into the crowd, one landing on a ledge above a storefront, others clinking as they hit the ground. It just made things even more confused, some bending to grab a coin, others trying to sidle away from the increasing chaos.
Farran reached for Vega’s elbow, pressing to suggest they retreat back into the Tube. Vandermeer kept shouting. “Am I not a bonny mad boy? Am I not bonny enough for you?” It sounded slightly ridiculous in an American accent, for all the words tumbled out of his mouth in rhythm like the song. “Come show me your treasure!”
Vega was gaping at him, as if caught in place, and Farran tugged. “We’d better leave. Look, there’s a constable, coming along.” A constable and two burly shopkeepers, moving steadily. “Now.”
Finally, she moved with him. The crowd between them and the entrance to the Tube had melted away, wanting none of the chaos and cacophony. As Farran managed to nudge Vega back down into the depths, they could hear the last calls. “I live by the air! I shall go bare, as all bonny Bedlam Boys do!” Farran could just see a bit of cloth, his coat, go up into the air, then they were away, back down into the dark.
They had to stop to buy tickets, of course, but by that point there were people queueing up behind them. Then they were onthe platform, nervously watching the people coming in from the entrance. “Where are we going?”
“I think in the circumstances, Bedford Square.” Farran searched through what he knew of the Tube. “If we get separated, get off at, um.” He tried to remember the station. There was a little sniff of some commentary behind him. Not in words, but Farran could tell by the sound he’d flubbed something, then glanced to find a map. “Tottenham Court Road.” He usually came at the British Museum or the library from the portal, not the other way round. “No, wait. British Museum.” The sniff that came from behind his shoulder sounded more approving this time, so that was probably right. “I’ll look for you on the corner. It’s only a block or two.”
Vega nodded, but she had her arm tightly through his at the moment, as if being separated would be a problem. She’d mentioned hating the Tube, but it was only a few stops, and hopefully it’d be a help. There were people piling on after them, a few of whom had also been in the crowd above, but there was no sign of Vandermeer.
There were no seats, of course. People were a bit packed in, it was now past eight. They stood awkwardly, trying to keep other people between them and the windows on that side. Farran kept glancing out, worried that they’d be followed, but then the doors closed and the train pulled away without further delay. Farran let out a sigh of relief. A few moments later, so did Vega.
Of course, he couldn’t say anything about here. Not with dozens of non-magical people within earshot, who were likely already wondering about the pair of rather dirty people wedged into the Tube. At best, it’d sound like madness. At worse, he’d be pressing up against his oaths to the Silence, and that was no good at all. Three stops later, they piled out of the train onto a platform, and Farran immediately tugged Vega’s hand to lead her out of the Tube.
“All right?” He wanted to get on to the portal. “I’m thinking the sooner we get to your family, the better all round.”
Vega had been leaning one hand on the bench where they’d come out, but that made her straighten. “Yes. I— yes.” Then she squared her shoulders. “Where are we going from here?”
Farran at least knew where the portal was, and he tucked her hand into his and led the way.
Chapter 37
LATER THAT MORNING AT ASTRALIS
Vega stepped through the portal, onto familiar land, taking a breath and moving to the side. She needed a word with Farran before the family descended. There hadn’t been time at the Bedford Square portal. It had been tricky enough to set the portal location here, or rather to slip a coin to the portal attendant so he wouldn’t do it himself. She immediately turned to offer a brief formal greeting to Aeterna. It was important to do that first.
Farran came out just beside her, blinking a little. Vastly less smoke and soot in the air, for one thing. The light made it clear exactly how covered in dust both of them were. They’d need to deal with that first. Vega cleared her throat. “In approximately a minute, there’ll be someone here to see who came through. Do you mind if I arrange clean clothes for you? Someone will escort you to a guest room and bath, but not let you leave or wander on your own.” She swallowed hard. “We’ll have to talk about, about that. But maybe with my family.” Her voice wavered.
“I would very much like clean clothes, actually. And you’re right about the talking.” Farran sucked in a breath. “I wish to be polite. Please tell me how to be polite?”
Vega turned to face him, to find him looking unsettled. He had every reason to, given the day they’d had already, never mind being about to face her family. “You have excellent manners. Use those, you’ll be fine. It is safe to accept any gift offered without obligation. I am functionally the one offering them. And I am telling you that you are under no obligation by accepting.” That was also important to state outright. She added the formal phrase in the family language for good measure, and felt the magic of the estate respond to it.
She went on. “But also, the senior aunts and uncles know you’re helping. This is continuing to help. You got me— and the torc— here safely. That will count for a great deal. You’ll be waiting an hour probably, but there will be someone who can bring you food or drink or the regular sorts of potions or a book. You should feel free to ask for any of those, or any other ordinary household thing of that sort.”
