Chapter 51: Be Prepared
In Which Cassandra gains the use of Strephon’s Library, and Strephon has an unpleasant thought.
It was well past noon by the time Strephon and Cassandra returned to his house. They'd gone over the list, hashing out everything they knew or suspected about each of the Council members and testing what connections each might have to Melchior or the other faerie plots.
“We still need to suss out a plan for tonight's meeting,” Cassandra said.
“We still don't know what we should plan for,” Strephon countered.
“We know that Melchior is going to expect you to endorse him for a seat on the Council, and we know that Inanna expects you to recite that spell she gave you to summon the Wild Hunt. What happens when you do neither?”
“That depends on how they react. They, and our Secret Adversary.”
“You do plan on doing neither, don't you?”
“Don't be ridiculous. No, there is an old military adage that no plan of battle ever survives contact with the enemy. I think our best course of action will be to see how things unfold, and adjust our response to the situation.”
“And there's an old Scout motto to Be Prepared.”
“I shall practice my knot-tying.”
Strephon saw to the front door and accompanied Cassandra to the sitting room. “Do you mind if I abandon you for a while?
His remark startled her. “Where are you going?”
“Just upstairs to my room. I'm in the habit of napping on Sunday afternoons. All the more so as it seems likely this might be a late night.”
“Oh, sure. Go ahead. Come to think of it, I have some work I should do too.”
That piqued Strephon's interest. “What do you mean?”
“So far I've been doing stories assigned to me by my editor. I need to generate stories of my own.”
“Yes, I'm afraid that most of the matters we've been investigating have been things you cannot exactly use.”
“I know. Like you said, 'Secrets are meant to be kept', remember? And I don't think the Morning Star would run them anyway. But some of them have touched on things I can write about, like the stories behind St. Onesimus's windows, or the fight over the Stillwell Forest shopping centre, or the restaurants in the Little Kingston district.”
Strephon creased his brow at her. “I don't think it would be a good idea for you to go out chasing leads.”
“Of course not. This is just preliminary research. I'd normally do it online, or at the Public Library. You may not have Internet access, but you do have a pretty big private library. With your permission, I'd like to see what I can discover.”
“By all means! Come this way!” Beaming with delight, and no small degree of pride, he led her to the library. “It's not terribly well-organized, I'm afraid. I keep meaning to, but I've never gotten around to doing it.”
“More fun this way,” Cassandra said. She walked around the long table in the center of the room gazing up at the shelves running from floor to ceiling full of books new and old, and taking in the smell of old paper and leather bindings. “I think I could spend a month in here.”
“Would you like me to show you around?”
“No, no. I'll be fine. I mustn't keep you from your nap.”
“Then make yourself at home,” Strephon said, and left her to her work. It gave him a warm feeling to see how she took to his library. For one thing, it confirmed his good opinion of her. She liked books, therefore, she had a noble soul. But more than that, it gave him a vicarious connection with her. The books which delighted her were his books; taking delight in his library was like taking delight in him.
A foolish train of thought. No doubt it merely tickled his ego to see her at home in his collection. Still, as he took the lift to the upper floor, he could not help but wish that he had lingered to guide her and share the experience of discovering his collection anew through her eyes.
Arriving at the upper floor, he wheeled his way to his bedroom and hefted himself onto the bed. His taradiddle about wanting to take a nap was not entirely false. He really was in the habit of napping in the afternoon, and he really did want to rest up before the night's solemnities; but he also wanted to think on some of the things Cassandra had brought up. What was he going to at the meeting that night? It was all well and good to say that he would cross that bridge when he came to it, but that did negate the fact that the bridge was coming up very quickly now and he had no way to reduce his speed.
He needed to weigh possibilities and anticipate possible outcomes. And he needed to do this away from Cassandra's distracting presence.
He didn't particularly want to endorse Melchior for a Council seat – he didn't like to endorse Melchior for anything – but if he didn't, what would he say when he was called to testify? He would love to publicly denounce Melchior, but he had no real evidence with which to denounce him. He didn't even have any solid accusations. And, Strephon had to keep reminding himself, Melchior was not the Big Fish.
Then there was the Wild Hunt.
No, of course he wasn't going to invoke the Wild Hunt; that would be unthinkable. It would unleash panic and chaos unimaginable. Still... he wanted to keep his options open. The Hunt could be a powerful weapon against his Unknown Enemy...
No. He didn't even know who his Unknown Enemy was. Which, by definition, was what made him unknown. Made them. Bother!
This mental correction made him think of Cassandra again. Their morning together had been so pleasant: strolling together, chatting together, sitting together... even their disagreements had seemed agreeable, adding a frisson to their conversation. It gave him a wicked pleasure to imagine what all those staid parishioners at church must have been thinking seeing the two of them sitting together.
Then a peculiar thought came to him unbidden. Was he sure that all of the eyes on him and Cassandra that morning had been merely curious? Did any of them have a more sinister interest? He hadn't perceived any malicious intent from anybody, but then again, his attention was absorbed by other things. He had told Cassandra that the Mastermind could be anyone; and if that were true, it would certainly be true for the Mastermind's agents.
“You're being paranoid,” he admonished himself. Except that he knew that Cassandra was being stalked by a vampire. Strephon didn't think a vampire would enter a church, but Philippe could easily have been lurking in the restaurant, or perhaps even outside it. He had never met Philippe, but Cassandra knew and would recognize him. What's more, Cassandra's co-worker, Saul Taylor, had admitted to following her, under the pretense of 'watching over her'. Strephon suddenly felt acutely aware at how great a risk they had taken going strolling out in the open like that. Nothing dangerous had happened that morning, but was that merely due to chance, or did their enemies have reasons for delaying their hand? A queasy dread came over him. He felt reasonably certain that they were secure in his house, but what might be waiting for them outside?
All thoughts of the Council meeting and any plans he might formulate for it had long since fled. Nevertheless, he had made up his mind about one thing.
He had to keep Cassandra safe.
NEXT: Stories Queer and Curious
