Mary Poppins was displeased. Annabel, John, and Georgie were not sure what to make of it. All the grownups were displeased, really, because their dad had lost their grandpa's piece of paper that said they owned shares in the bank. This meant, for reasons never fully explained, they could not stay in their house anymore and were going to live for a bit with their aunt in her much smaller flat, and they would have to store most of their furniture and they needed to pack all their things. So it was no wonder that their dad was displeased and their aunt was displeased, and even Ellen was displeased, though all three did their best to hide it and be upbeat with the children and pretend it was a great adventure. But somehow, Mary Poppins being displeased was different, and the children were almost certain it had nothing to do with the missing piece of paper or bank shares or moving out of the house.

"What's wrong?" John tried asking outright.

"Whyever should something be wrong?" was the answer, with a shocked look as if John were being utterly ridiculous to ask such a thing. So the direct approach was no good.

"Is everything okay with Jack and that lamplighter?" Annabel asked, trying to come at it from an angle. Besides, Mary Poppins' mood had very clearly shifted that morning when they had suddenly needed to go out very urgently, had almost run (except Mary Poppins never runs; if the children hadn't been so out of breath trying to keep up they would have thought she was moving at a sedate walk to look at her). They had met with a slave called Charlie, and their conversation was odd but fairly mundane. And then Mary Poppins had led them on, still briskly. It was Georgie who noticed all the lamplights along the street dimming in time with a snap of Mary Poppin's fingers. But Mary Poppins never explained why. They didn't meet up with Jack, either, like they half expected after meeting Charlie. Instead, they went down a side alley none of them had ever noted, though it came off of a familiar street.

They went down the alley, and the air had a strange chill to it, and fat droplets of rain had fallen over them even though moments before it had been fairly warm and, at least for London, sunny. Mary Poppins tched at the rain, opened her umbrella (for herself; the children mostly just got wet if they strayed too far from her side), then walked up to a strange door that was half the height of a normal door, but the top half, because it was halfway up the wall.

She had to knock a couple of times, and got that impatient look that waiting always gave her, as if someone was being extremely rude.

"Perhaps they're out?" Annabel tried to suggest.

"Nonsense," said Mary Poppins. "He is never out." And she knocked again. Finally, the door opened, and the children could see, right at their height because that was the bottom of the door, a tiled floor, the tiles severely polished, which was useful because they acted as mirrors. What they could see standing on the tiles were enormous shoes, holding up long skinny legs, and it was only because of the polished tiles that they could see up above the legs a torso and a head. Around him and behind him, was a very odd hallway that seemed to buck and turn about the further down it one looked, until the tiles seemed to be on the ceiling and reflected strange shapes. Annabel later swore she saw reflected in that hallway a man pulling a cart with a horse sitting in it and applying a whip. John was just as certain he saw a garden where a boy was gathering jellybeans from a tree. And Georgie knew he saw a blue tank inside which a fish swam as if it were water and a bird flew as if it were sky.

"Mary Poppins!" said a loud voice, high above them. It might just have been the difference in where he was standing that made him seem so tall, but he looked to the children to be at least twice the height of a normal man, though in a stretched-out way, like the reflection of a man in a funhouse mirror. It did not fit with the tiny door at all. "What brings you to the House of Mirrors?"

"I came to visit you, of course," Mary Poppins said, severely polite in a way that suggested she was highly displeased about something.

"Oh…er…do come in out of the rain for some tea?" the man suggested, sounding rather like a scolded boy even though no actual scolding had been done.

In much warmer tones, Mary Poppins replied, "Thank you for asking, but we cannot stay. I would like a bottle of Auntie's Elixor sent to a friend." Then, she reached out a hand and hooked Georgie by the back of his trousers before he could manage to crawl up into the building. With her other hand, she handed over a piece of paper wrapped around a coin. She was also holding her umbrella throughout all of this; she must have been because it did not fall and stayed open over her head, keeping the rain off, though it was only afterwards that the children found that odd.

"Sure thing," said the man, delicately accepting. Then, carefully again, as if following a script in his head, "It was lovely to see you. I hope you will come again soon, and please do bring these three children."

"I'm afraid I will only be with them until the door opens," Mary Poppins answered, with real regret in her own tone, "But thank you. Good day."

And the door closed and she led them out of the alley again, and somehow her umbrella was closed and they were dry as if they'd never been in the rain at all. But since that moment, Mary Poppin's mood had been strange and distracted. So Annabel asked after Jack and Charlie who seemed to be at the heart of things.

"I'm sure they are as well as any slave in London," was the answer, and even Georgie could tell by her tone that the question had upset her.

"Will we go back to the mirror house?" he asked next. He really should have known better, because Mary Poppins never acknowledges any of the truly strange or interesting places she takes them afterwards.

"Wherever do you mean?" she asked in return, with strong tones of Disapproval. "Do make sure you remember to pack your tin soldiers for your aunt's house. They will be very unhappy to be left in the dark in storage."

So the day was spent packing and not knowing what had Mary Poppins so displeased, aside from the obvious that was upsetting all the grownups.

The slaves' day was a bit in turmoil too. It was not just Jack's situation, though that was the obvious upset. None of them liked that Jack was in pain or that the world seemed to keep going after him specifically, but they all knew it could have been much worse. Part of it was a bit of emotional whiplash. Mary Poppins was in town, Jones was a newt, but the officer who kept going after Jack was perfectly human and able to continue his vendetta. The slaves also knew that something was up with the Banks household, though not exactly what, and could only hope it was something Mary Poppins could help with. Magic was all well and good, but the world was still unfair and a bit horrible and Jack being attacked right after being saved was just a reminder how precarious life was at the bottom.

Angus, in particular, kept hounding Charlie for more details. Charlie just said, again and again, what he had seen and what he knew, even though it was uncomfortable to go over it and over it, because he understood Angus's need. The morning passed, and then Angus left as soon as he was allowed on his lunch break, with no intention of stopping off anywhere for lunch. Charlie went with him, in part because he had the best idea where Jack might be and in part because all the slaves quietly agreed that leaving Angus alone to tear across London was a bad idea.

It was unfortunate that Charlie hadn't been allowed to stay through the examination because he knew where the clinic was, but it was unlikely for Jack to stay there. Angus went to the obvious place, the dormitory, but found it completely empty.

"Where…you don't think he's still at the clinic, do you?" Angus asked, and Charlie could see him working himself up with each passing moment of not knowing where Jack was.

"Course not. He wasn't hurt that bad. I bet Jane Banks took him somewhere to look after him. Not her place; she wouldn't be so stupid. We should try her business, SPRUCE."

Which, rather luckily, Charlie still remembered the address of and was able to guide them both to the right building.

They found Jack still sleeping soundly, lying on his side so his wrapped wrist was on top. He looked a bit pale, but his expression was relaxed, not one of pain. Angus could not see how bad his back was, of course, but it still eased something in him to see Jack at ease.

"I was wondering whether I should wake him for a bite to eat," Jane said, joining them. "But he's been sleeping so peacefully I thought it better to wait. Have you had your lunch yet?"

"Our break is near over," Charlie admitted, for it had taken time to search Jack out.

"Well, you had better eat with us, then," Jane decided.

"Our friends will have saved us something," Angus tried to protest, but nonetheless both men soon found themselves with a plate of food. In the end, Jack slept right through their visit, which was probably best for him but left Angus feeling a bit cold, like a mixture of loneliness and worry.

In an upper office of the bank, another man was having a very bad day. Though, there was a chance it was looking up. Two men were having tea. The slave Penny had just laid it out, the tea piping hot and there were two plates of biscuits. The plainer biscuits were laid closest to the man seated in the shorter chair. He had on his nicest suit, which in all honesty was a bit threadbare and faded. The man opposite him was impeccably dressed in the latest fashion, as one would expect from the director of a bank.

"I must admit, sir, that your summons was very…timely," said the more threadbare man. "But I don't rightly understand what you would want with a disgraced police officer."

"The Fidelity Fiduciary Bank finds it convenient to recruit our security officers from positions of similar authority and experience," answered William Weatherall Wilkins. "And as for the scandal surrounding your temporary suspension…well…I found myself…sympathetic."

"I appreciate it. Suspension for a week without pay, in these times, is hard. Especially when I was only doing my duty. But…I would have thought the bank would take a different stand…seeing as you are a City institution and it was City property that I supposedly damaged?"

"We offer the City certain compensations and they, in turn, supplement us in a number of ways, including allowing the use of their man power within the bank. However, we are not, strictly speaking, a City institution. And my decisions are my own. As it so happens, that property that you, allegedly, damaged, had been causing some friction within the Bank. I've had reports of indiscretions when it is sent to clean, shoddy service, multiple clashes with Bank employees. If it were up to me, it would be redistributed elsewhere. Unfortunately, being City property and not an official bank employee, it is not up to me."

There was a long moment of silence, as the badly dressed man worked through that, and all the words not said.

"Happy to be of service, then, removing him, at least temporarily. It hurts a man's feelings, after years of good service, to be disciplined over a slave when I didn't even give it the full count of the lash. As if my three lashes did lasting harm."

"Exactly," agreed Wilkins, his tones carefully sympathetic as he dunked one of the good biscuits in his tea. Happy to be in such approving company, the suspended officer dunked his own, plainer biscuit with just a bit too much enthusiasm.

"I will be happy to take on your security position," he said. "I would not even mind if it were extended beyond the week; the chief certainly never saw things as clearly as you. Though…I was surprised to be called before you, personally."

"It is unusual," agreed Wilkins. He glanced at the door, firmly closed. "But then, I have a more…personal…request to make of you." And he carefully did not notice the way the officer had managed to slosh his tea into his saucer, or at where his collar had become upturned. Instead, he leaned in closer, and the officer automatically did the same.

"That…problematic…city property that you damaged. I appreciate that it is gone for the day but…well, it is becoming harder and harder to deal with it. I could apply my own discipline here, behind closed doors…but this one…it has a friend, a Citizen who has some mistaken idea that slaves should be coddled."

"I think I met her," the officer agreed, "A tough case, that one. I'd like to get her straightened out. She's the one as stopped me from applying all ten lashes. And I still got suspended even when I let off!"

His tea was in danger of staining the tablecloth, now, in his agitation. Luckily, Wilkins always used the older, cheaper cloth for meetings like this.

"Yes, well, as much a problem as she is, she is out of our reach. And she has made it difficult for me to dispose of the problem slave myself."

The man stared at him with a stupidly blank expression for a long moment. Wilkins sighed.

"As a security officer, you would have the run of the building. Not the vaults, but the lower floors, where the City sends its slave property. I could arrange things, for a certain slave to be completely alone. No witnesses. If he were to become…damaged beyond repair…permanently removed…well. Sometimes accidents happen beyond all our control."

He leaned in closer, and the officer leaned in too, until they were so close their noses practically touched, and Wilkins whispered even more quietly.

"Incidentally, on behalf of myself, in expectation of your wonderful services to this bank and the City, I have opened an account in your name, into which has been deposited the sum of 1000 pounds. Should it come to pass that a certain thorn in both our sides comes to irreparable harm that must permanently remove it, 4000 more pounds will find its way into that account, along with a 1 percent share of this very bank. Do we understand each other, Mr. Johnson?"

Wilkins leaned back again in his chair and then offered out his hand. Johnson slowly leaned himself back, and for a long moment, his eyes wide with astonishment, he just stared at the hand. Wilkins did not seem bothered by the wait, just smiled politely and continued to hold out his hand.

"When you say, 'permanently remove', do you mean, have it sent elsewhere or…"

"Permanently, Mr. Johnson, means without any chance of ever returning. In any capacity."

He still held out his hand. There was a risk, here, of course. Johnson was an officer of the law, and he could turn around, return to his old place of work, and report the entire conversation. It was a low risk, though. Firstly, Johnson was currently in disgrace. Even if he did report it, it would be easy enough to make sure no one believed it and Johnson likely knew that himself. Secondly, Wilkins was very good at reading people. Johnson liked to think of himself as an upright and upstanding Citizen who served the people, but he had a prideful, violent streak only restrained by knowing what he could and could not get away with. He'd overstepped that with Jack, because of an unforeseen ally. Now Wilkins was offering him exactly what he'd already wanted to do on a silver platter. Disgruntled people were the easiest to manipulate.

Mr. Johnson took his hand. "Alright," he said. "I'll take this position in the hope that it will become my permanent employment."

Wilkins smiled, then used the handshake to pull the man closer, across the table. It startled Johnson enough that he had to grab the table, and his tea overturned into his plain biscuits.

"You understand, of course, that should you attempt to talk of this, that account was fraudulently acquired. Destroying City property only comes with a hefty fine, one I am personally willing to cover. Bank fraud comes with a prison sentence. In the unlikely and unfortunate event that things do not work out as we hope and someone catches you in the act, keep that in mind."

Then he let go of his hand, sat back in his chair, and took another sip of his tea.

At the end of the day, a new security guard joined the other, more experienced guards for a walkthrough of his duties now that the bank was closed. The City slaves who worked at the bank were either signing out or getting ready to do their final duties. For leeries, this meant getting something to eat before turning up lamps, a task that had been more tiring than usual lately, what with constantly having to cover for Jack. This meant that none of them could rush through things early and go find Jack; even if they had the capability it would be stupid to not have things run late. No one wanted the City to think that the loss of one lamplighter didn't have any real effect. So instead of covering for him, as they did when they deemed him unable to work but the City still thought him capable, they reported duly to their overseer and let him decide how to cover.

"Why don't we all do our own routes, then all of us together cover Jack's route?" suggested Big Sean. It was risky of him to speak up, because overseers could take unsolicited advice as a form of cheek. Luckily this particular overseer was the lazier sort who was tired at the end of the day and ready to accept anything that sounded remotely sensible over having to reroute everyone himself.

"If you lot don't mind, I suppose," was all he said. "I thought those closest might take bits; seems rough for the further out ones."

"Oh, we don't mind that," said Bill, with a noble tone to his voice, "If I can help my brother slaves, I don't mind pedaling a mile out of my way to do so."

"Alright, then," said the overseer with a shrug, and he marked down the decision.

Of course, the real reason the leeries wanted to do it this way was that Jack's route was close to the SPRUCE office, and it would be easiest for them all to meet up after and then go get Jack. In theory, it would be fine if Jack spent the night at SPRUCE, since there was no actual rule against it. In reality, he'd need to check in so early the next morning that it was impractical and liable to end up with Jack in trouble he didn't need.

Besides, every last one of them wanted to check on him.

Jack was awake by the time the first lamps were lit. He couldn't say he was all better, but a day off, and whatever was in the bottle Mary Poppins had sent, had done a world of good. He was actually rather cheerful when his friends descended upon him, and easily able to ignore the one or two overly concerned looks because his friends knew him well enough to at least pretend they thought all was well with him.

"Missed you guys," he said, with a grin, and pretended himself not to notice when one or two made an aborted move towards a hug, as his friends remembered at the last second how fragile Jack's torso likely was.

"Will you be bringing him back tomorrow?" asked Jane, who had had a busy day, what with ensuring a complaint was lodged against Officer Johnson, backed by the City who did not like it when slaves became unable to function. It wasn't even the lashes that got him in the most trouble. A cracked rib and a broken wrist meant Jack could not do his leerie duties until they healed, and lamp lighting was considered skilled labor, and therefore restricted, giving Jack extra value. Officer Johnson was only lucky it wasn't a broken rib, and that the wrist was a clean break, or he might well have had to pay compensation for prolonged or permanent disability, instead of the more minor fine involved with minor damage.

One might argue that Jack was also lucky it was not worse. As bad as it was, he got the day off and was to be put on light duty the next day. His friends grumbled over that.

"Should give you a week off, or even a month, until you're all healed up," Angus complained.

"Oh well, I'd get bored and lonely, lovely though SPRUCE is," insisted Jack. "I just feel bad they won't let me on my bike to help you with the lights. I don't mind a bit of time sitting around the bank."

"Tea duty for, like, a month," agreed Charlie.

That evening, no one but Jack took a mouthful of Mary Poppins' medicine, just in case it used it up when Jack needed it. Besides, they hadn't been given permission and there was danger there. Jack slept well. Better than many of his friends.

Officer Johnson, or rather, Security Guard Johnson did not sleep very well at all. His thoughts went back and forth, between imagining all that he'd like to do to City Slave 556021, then wondering if he truly dared. In the end, he slept, and dreamed of blood.

Somewhere in the vicinity of the Thames, a newt slept very badly indeed, silently cursing the cold, the wet, the dark, and an entire world that had Wronged him.

Mary Poppins sat up late, darning socks. Three children would have stayed up late, worried over their impending move, but a lullaby had settled all three down and now they slept soundly. Michael and Jane, both exhausted, nonetheless continued to search for a missing document long into the night.

How Wilkins slept, and what worries he might have had to keep him up, only he knew.