I apologise for the delay on this chapter. I blame my 10-year-old son completely. He asked me to watch Miraculous Ladybug with him because he didn't have anyone to fangirl/boy with, so obviously, we've binge-watched all of it. And then he wanted to discuss theories, and then he asked me to find fanart (Some of the fanart in that fandom can be a bit risqué for a 10-year-old to stumble across) and slowly but surely, I was dragged with him into a Miraculous black hole.
It took me a while to get my focus back, but here we are.
…
It was Sunday, and Lockwood had, true to whatever agreement he had with Quill's parents, left to go see them. Holly was at home for once, doing whatever it was she did at home. My guess was home-made granola or something like that. George was pacing in the library the entire evening. I was sitting in one of the armchairs with my sketchpad, trying to make the hair on the Cold Maiden I had been drawing look more realistic.
"George, could you please just sit down." I groaned, getting slightly dizzy by his constant movement.
He shook his head and kept pacing.
"I'll let you play with the skull if you stop," I offered but that didn't have any effect either.
"WHAT?!" The skull screeched from the coffee table.
I snorted. "I didn't actually mean that" I assured the skull.
"You better not! That was a horrible joke! I nearly had a heart attack!"
I chuckled. "You're dead, skull. You don't have a heart."
"Words hurt, you know, Lucy. Words hurt."
I shook my head and showed it the drawing. "What do you think?"
"Awful. Absolutely horrible. Break your pencil and use the paper for wiping your bum. You'll never be a real artist."
I smiled widely. "I'll take that as a compliment."
I winked at it and it made a face with the plasm to roll its eyes back at me.
I heard the door open and shut and George stilled like a rabbit looking out for a threat.
Quill came into the library, but he barely looked at me.
"Hi," he softly said, before quickly looking away.
The dismissal hurt and I wanted to talk to him. To say something to him that would make him look at me and even smile at me. But what could I possibly say that would make him happy?
Somehow, I didn't think it would work, telling him that I was worried for what Lockwood might do if I... if I what, exactly? If I started a relationship with him? A relationship. With Quill Kipps. Was that even a possibility? Was that even what he wanted? Or did he just want a fling? Or even that?
I had no idea.
He and Lockwood seemed to do better together though, and that made me smile. They deserved happiness.
Quill told George that he hadn't found the publication we needed, and George instantly lightened and threw out the 'I told you so'sand 'if you want something done properly you have to do it yourself's.
Quill shook his head with an exasperated little smile and George stormed towards his room, leaving us alone in the library.
As soon as George left, the room somehow changed. It was as if the air pressure in the room both rose and fell at the same time. If I didn't know better, I'd say that we had a haunting on our hands.
In a way, we did. I was certainly haunted by whatever was or wasn't between us.
We caught each others eye for what might have been half a second or several hours. Something inside my ribcage suddenly felt very tight.
I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say anything, he cut me off with a sad smile.
"Goodbye, Lucy," he said quietly and left.
I heard the front door open and shut again.
"You know, as far as punishments go, I'm grateful that watching you interact with people isn't the eternal sort because that stuff is painful to witness."
I ripped the drawing off the pad and tore it to shreds. That stupid hair was never going to work out anyway.
I went in the kitchen where George ran like the wind with Lockwood on his heels, trying to slow him down.
I went to stand in Georges way, thinking that might make him stop up, but he was so distracted that he simply barrelled straight into me. Lockwood slammed into George from the sudden stop and we all toppled over in a pile, all three, with me at the bottom.
George's elbow got me in the diaphragm, and I was certain that I broke a rib or two.
Lockwood's grinning face landed half an inch from mine which could possibly have been nice, had I not wanted to punch him for preventing George from getting off me so I could breathe.
I managed to tap his shoulder and he rolled off. George flopped over too, and I got on my hands and knees, trying to breathe.
Lockwood put a hand on my back and smiled sheepishly at me. "Are you alright, Luce?"
I nodded but couldn't form words yet.
"Look, George. All I'm saying is that maybe it's better to wait until tomorrow. Greenwich isn't going anywhere, and we need to be better prepared." Lockwood said and sat up against the wall.
"Can anyone please make me a cup of tea?" I wheezed.
Lockwood raised his hands. "See George – Lucy needs you."
George stomped over to fill the kettle and aggressively slammed it down. "There!"
Lockwood sighed. "Just don't go tonight, George. Please?"
"Why? I'm so close to getting it! To solving the Problem, don't you understand?"
George ripped off his glasses and rubbed them in his sweater before realising that a woollen sweater isn't the best for cleaning glasses. He then lifted it to get to his undershirt giving us an eyeful of… George.
Lockwood rubbed his face. "I know. I know it's important to you – to all of us, but I'm worried about this surveillance. If you go out alone tonight, it'll be suspicious, but I found this in the mail."
He dug out a folded piece of glossy paper from his trouser pocket. It almost looked like a party invitation, but I doubted the event would be particularly festive.
"It's that summons Barnes was talking about." I realised.
Lockwood nodded. "Listen George, if you leave now, alone, it'll be suspicious as hell, but if we all leave tomorrow together, then we can split up. Lucy and I can go to the gathering and you and Hol can go to Greenwich."
George huffed. "I need to go alone, Lockwood."
Lockwood frowned and his mouth turned into a thin line. "Fine. But promise that you'll be careful, okay?"
George rolled his eyes.
"Promise, George." He repeated.
"I'm going to the library, not tackling a wraith. You're the ones to worry about, really. Going into the lion's den,"
I got up on a chair, still feeling a bit winded. Lockwood sat next to me.
"Are you alright?" He asked softly.
I caught a glimpse of George rolling his eyes behind Lockwood's back. He was taking mugs out of the cabinet. I noticed that he had taken out my favourite and I smiled at bit at that.
"I'll be fine. You know me," I coughed.
"Yeah, unfortunately, I do." Lockwood grumbled.
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!"
Lockwood's eyes widened comically, and his cheeks turned pink.
"I just – I don't mean that I'm unlucky to know you, you know, I just mean that you uh – have a certain tendency to uh – underplay your injuries. And that's unfortunate…" He trailed off with a wince.
I scoffed. "Hardly. I just know when I've been through worse. There's no use in complaining, really."
Lockwood shook his head. "I just want you to be careful if you're hurt. Is that such a crime?" he asked with a soft smile.
I sighed and leaned back in the chair. "I suppose not, but really, I'm fine."
George put the tea tray in front of us along with a plate of biscuits.
"You're staying then?"
George grunted and scratched himself in an unmentionable place. "Might as well."
The next day, we left together. Holly had only stopped by for a few hours, making sure all our papers were in order. She didn't even have to come in as it was her day off, but she wanted to check up on us. That warmed me a bit on the inside. I had thought about my issues all night, trying to see things from different points of view but I felt I needed her perspective. As soon as I saw her though, my determination to speak to her wilted. She was frazzled and obviously in a hurry to check up on our paperwork. My problems could wait.
We took the tube to the Strand. George got off before we did, then it was just Lockwood and me. We both carried large bags with equipment, and I had double and triple checked everything. We had a small case in Walworth immediately after and I patted the side of my rucksack to assure myself that I had the papers. I hoped we wouldn't be stopped though. I had the skull with me, which was risky business indeed, but we wanted it to check out Penelope again. I told it that I wanted it to look for potential weaknesses, but honestly it was just as much to get it to confirm for me one more time that it really was Marissa Fittes. It was still hard for me to believe it.
Sure, something creepy was going on, but I still had a tiny hope that the explanation would be a teensy bit more logical than Marissa Fittes in a new body.
Lockwood nudged my shoulder. We had arrived at Fittes headquarters and I hadn't even noticed.
About a dozen agents were standing around outside. There was a group of kids pressed close together, wearing the ridiculous yellow berets of Armstrong. They scowled at us as we passed them. Another group were wearing the light blue jackets of Tamworth. I found myself idly thinking how awful those things would be to clean. Another group were wearing pink striped blazers, signalling that they belonged to Mellingcamp. I nodded to a boy I'd worked with previously when I was a freelancer and he sent me a brilliant smile and an eager wave in return.
Lockwood looked down at me with a small smirk and a raised eyebrow.
"Shut up," I mumbled and gave him a small swat in the stomach.
His smile widened. "I didn't say anything."
I rolled my eyes as we went up the marble steps.
Inside there were more small groups standing around, their jackets and hats signalling their employment. There were many different colours, but what stood out the most to me were the colours that weren't present. The dark green blazers of Dullop and Tweed. The awful mustard-coloured jackets of Bunchurch, and many more. I almost missed the Rotwell-red jackets.
It was easy to separate them all because they all looked alike in their uniforms and they all stood in groups, glancing nervously at anyone who wasn't their colleague. Competition ran deep through this city.
When I had first started at Lockwood and co, I had been slightly ashamed of not having a snappy uniform. I had to admit that I had a soft spot for the midnight blue blazers of Tendy and if I were to be honest with myself, Quill's grey Fittes uniform had been quite lovely.
Now, however, I stood proud in my dark grey skirt and my practical forest green, plasm-stained parka. I was proud not to wear a uniform. Not wearing one was a signal of the independence we had.
I looked at Lockwood to find him giving me a fond smile.
"You really did look lovely in that dress that night at the Anniversary Party."
I huffed a small laugh and looked down. "Thank you."
"I didn't notice your shoes though," he said with a small smirk and moved further into the room before I could ask him what the hell that was supposed to mean.
The room that the spectacle was supposed to go down in, was the Hall of Pillars. The spectacular hall had hosted several balls, including the Anniversary Party we'd attended a few years before. Like the theatre, it was full of gilded details, but the white and black marble and large mirrors on the walls made the room feel ice cold opposed to the warm theatre with its red velvet seats.
Across the room in between all the agents, were the nine columns that gave the place its name. They were all in blue-ish silver glass and contained the Sources of some of the most famous Spirits Marissa Fittes had handled.
We got in late, so we had to stand in the back which would have suited me perfectly. After all, while I did want the skull to take a gander at the bitch, I didn't want to get too close. The only problem was that I had trouble seeing. A group of Tendy-agents on the last legs of their careers, judging by their heights were standing in front of us side by side like a wall.
I was somewhat tall for a girl, but how did they even manage to grow boys that size? Could they even get into all the nooks and crannies you had to as an agent?
The one to my left had shoulders so wide I had to wonder if he could even reach the corners when hoovering or if he had to attack them sideways.
Lockwood laughed when he saw me standing on my tip-toes.
"I won't lie – that's adorable," he said, pointing at my feet with a wide grin.
I huffed in exasperation and crossed my arms over my chest.
He took pity on me by throwing his bag down near the column. That way I could stand on the bag and use the column for support; something the ghost in it seemed to appreciate a lot, judging by the way it glided against the glass.
Its Source was a serrated blade put on display. It had to be the Clapham Butcher Boy from fifty years back. I had seen enough pictures of that knife in all the history books and in the Fittes Manual to recognise it.
"Piss off and find your own human! This one is taken" the skull hissed.
I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing. "Are you jealous, skull?" I murmured.
"What? Look around! Look at those pillars! Bunch of creeps."
I took a look around and noticed that the Clapham Butcher Boy evidently wasn't my only fan. All the spirits were looking at me. Long Hugh Henratty, The Gory Girl, the Mad Knight, and the Vicious Vicar. They were all staring at me, their plasm swirling around in their silver glass confines.
My mouth went dry. I could only imagine what it might be like if the glass broke. We would all be dead in seconds.
The room was buzzing with conversations as people tried to guess what the announcement was about.
"Here she comes," the skull whispered.
All as one, the spirits in the columns slowly turned towards the stairs, like moths to a flame.
Like a wave spreading from the front of the room to the back, silence fell.
The sound of heels was the only thing heard. Slowly, Penelope Fittes appeared. She came down from somewhere upstairs and it wasn't until then that I noticed the small lectern at the bottom of the marble staircase. She was again in green. This time a dark green knee-length number that hugged her figure and made her look very professional.
Directly behind her came Sir Rupert Gale, almost hopping down the stairs with how jaunty his walk was. He took position next to the podium from where he stood with his unnaturally bright smile and freshly polished rapier.
Ms Fittes stood at the lectern and cleared her throat. I heard the small crackle of loudspeakers being turned on.
"Dear fellow agencies; agents; children." She paused and looked around with a benevolent smile.
The skull was making retching noises.
"Slowly we are changing seasons. The nights get longer, the darkness spreads."
I saw an older supervisor tapping his foot, obviously just as impatient to get past the poetry as I was.
"Last Winter – The Black Winter was the worst one yet. So many young lives were lost in the battle against the Problem, sacrificing themselves in the noble effort of keeping the rest of us safe," she put a hand over her heart and looked out at all of us with a masterfully faked expression of sympathy.
Bile rose in my throat. All those lost lives were on her hands and there she stood, mocking their memories.
"Now, we head into Autumn and the Winter we face does not bode well. Now is the time that we must band together. Protect each other. Help one another in our quest to purge this country of these Visitors who have far overstayed their welcome."
She looked out at us as if she had just made an incredibly funny joke and was expecting us all to laugh. No one did.
"She's hardly in a position to be speaking about overstaying one's welcome. And I'm not going anywhere," the skull scoffed.
I turned my head to tell Lockwood how disgusting I found her, only to realise that I was once again alone. I felt a surge of anger and the Clapham Butcher Boy pressed himself closer to me. I sneered at him. It was the same again and again. I didn't know what I could say or do that would make him stop hiding things or leave me out of his plans.
I looked around to see if he was somewhere nearby, but no luck.
A girl looked up at me and her eyes flashed in recognition. I had a hard time placing her though. I squinted, trying to remember her face, but I quickly forgave myself for not recognising her because her face wasn't very memorable. In fact, it reminded me a bit of an old t-shirt of mine that had been washed so many times that you needed to hold it up against the light in order to discern the pattern on the fabric.
It took me far too long, but eventually, I got it. Her name was Tina, but I don't remember her last name. One of the reasons I had a hard time recognising her was that last time I had seen her; her jacket had the wine-red colours of Rotwell. Now, the light grey of her Fittes uniform made her pale face and even paler and her hair look almost see-through.
Her eyes darted back and forth before she raised her hand in a barely-there wave.
I sent her an equally barely-there smile and her eyes widened. She wasn't looking at me anymore though, but rather behind me.
I was about to turn around when a hand slapped onto the column exactly next to my ear. I'm embarrassed to admit that I flinched a little.
"Lucy Carlyle," a male voice purred in my ear. "We meet again."
I rolled my eyes. "What do you want?" I asked without turning around. I was happy that I was wearing my bag on my back so the creep couldn't press himself closer to me, but he only had to glance down a bit and the skull would be in full view.
Luckily or unluckily, depending how you look at it, he came around to stand next to me. Luckily because he couldn't see the skull from that angle, unluckily because now I could see his dark eyes that were once again undressing me.
James Rumsford as he was called, gave a low chuckle. "Do you really want a list?"
He put his arm around my shoulders, and I bit my cheek not to bite his hand. Quill's Fittes uniform felt spoiled to me now that I saw this snake in one.
"Do you mind? I'm trying to listen to your leader's announcement." I pointed out as diplomatically as I was capable of. Holly would have been proud.
Rather than backing off, he moved slightly in front of me and gave me a charming smile. "Ah. I could always give you a summary."
His hand moved from around my shoulder to caress the side of my face. I slowly leaned away from his touch. Something that seemed to amuse him. His hand moved with me, never breaking contact. It made me nauseous.
He licked his lips. "I already know what it's about. You needn't worry about that. In fact, we could leave right now, and you wouldn't miss a thing." He smiled widely and his eyes quickly darted up to the front of the hall.
"I'm not going anywhere with you." I deadpanned and crossed my arms in front of me.
His smile stiffened slightly before turning into a smirk and alarm bells were going off inside my mind.
He took a step closer, so he was barely a hairs breath from touching my body with his. "Are you certain of that, Lucy?"
I snorted. "Positive."
I leaned against the column to try to look put together even though he was creeping me out.
"I beg to differ. You see, I think you're going to come with me. We'll go somewhere private where I can tell you all about the announcement."
I shook my head. "I'm not going anywhere with you," I repeated and looked back up where Penelope Fittes was speaking.
"- have had a long tradition for helping young agents –"
I squinted. Something was missing. Or rather someone. Sir Rupert Gale was nowhere to be seen. I tried scanning the crowd again, looking for Lockwood. I was worried that he might have done something stupid to attract Sir Rupert's attention.
I didn't see either of them, but my attention was quickly captured by the hand that was suddenly holding my arm in a vice-like grip.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be," I looked at James Rumsford again. He was smiling again, but the smile he gave me was hard and predatory. Gone was the pretence of conversation and I started thinking about how to get myself out of the situation without attracting too much attention.
He leaned all the way up to me, touching my cheek with his nose. "Come on, Lucy. Let's go." He whispered and started pulling me away.
…
Regarding the things that are close to the things in the book – I need to keep them in this story as well because they are relevant. If I don't include these events, the story will lose its fluency. And I don't copy completely – I add some easter eggs of my own.
Please let me know what you think and leave a review before you leave!