Justin Fisher - The Gold Thief

Ned leant across to Whiskers, who was still perching happily on Lucy’s shoulder.

“Not a squeak out of you. Madame O is a VIP . And if you’re there, Gorrn, that means you too.”

Something on the floor undulated and Whiskers gave Ned a short but courteous blink.

Madame Oublier entered the tent with little fuss. She was without doubt the most heavily tattooed person Ned had ever seen, in either the known world or the Hidden. She was elderly and silver-haired, much like Kitty, the troupe’s old Farseer, though with none of her pink and white garb or eccentric charm. The Twelve’s Prime was dressed from head to toe in unapologetic black. For a moment Ned felt a pang – how he wished dear Kitty was still with them and especially now.

The elderly Farseer was also slight, calm and quiet, because she did not need to be anything else. To the travelling kind, Madame Oublier’s word was law.

Behind her were two dwarven berserkers. From the plaits of their beards to the blue woad markings on their faces, Ned could tell they were high-ranking. Though small in stature, berserkers were almost unstoppable in a fight, as Ned had found out at the battle of St Clotilde’s.

Ned also knew that Oublier did not usually employ bodyguards; she was a formidable force in her own right. If she was travelling with specialist muscle, then things were indeed dire behind the Veil.

She took a seat and studied her surroundings without addressing anyone. George held his breath as she peered at a cup and saucer, probing them for any evidence of dust. There was a slight pout of the lips, her eyes flicked to Benissimo, and finally she spoke.

“ Bon . Coffee, black.”

“Madame O,” said Benissimo, as he poured her a cup.

A face that had as many wrinkles as tattoos broke into a much-needed smile.

“It is good to see you, old friend, zo I wish ze times were brighter.” She looked to Ned, and her eyes softened. It was a look that ran straight through him, as if she could see right into his troubled heart.

“You are always welcome, Madame, under my or any other tent.”

Madame Oublier sipped from her cup of coffee, or at least that was how she started. What began as a sip soon turned into a violent and guttural slurp. Her eyes clamped shut, her cheeks turned pink and Madame Oublier, quite possibly the most formidable woman Ned had ever seen (besides his mum), downed the entire cup in a noisy and violent gulp. No one said a word; as much in awe as he was, Ned had to hold back the laugh that was now lodged in his throat.

It was clearly a blend that she didn’t like and, ignoring her own greedy glugging, Madame Oublier glanced at Scraggs’ assortment of nibbles with nose-curling disdain before scanning the faces at the table. One by one she looked at each of them gathered there, then lingered for a while on Lucy, who for some reason could not meet her gaze.

“How are you, child?” she asked.

“Fine, Madame Oublier, thank you,” said Lucy quietly, who at that precise moment looked anything but.

The Farseer’s lips pursed. It seemed very much to Ned like the two of them had met before.

“We shall see. And tell me, where is ze conjuror?”

“Resting. The return of our young Engineer proved to be too much excitement,” explained Benissimo.

“Keep a close eye on him.”

“Always, Madame,” said the Ringmaster solemnly.

Ned glanced at him. Why did Jonny Magik need a close eye? Surely he was Benissimo’s friend? But before he could dwell on that or Lucy’s obvious discomfort, he was met by the Farseer’s eyes again.

“Now, it is ze boy that I have come to see. Dear Ned, after everything your family have already endured, I am so sorry. If you will permit, I wish to take a peek inside your mind.”

Ned froze. The only other person to “take a peek” had been the dearly departed Kitty, and she had done so by slapping his face.

“Be still, Monsieur Ned. I will not hurt you.”

She leant across the table and rested her hand on his before closing her eyes. For a brief moment something in him lifted and he felt the beginnings of a glimmer of hope. Madame Oublier was an intimidating woman and he sensed within her a powerful force matched only by well-hidden kindness.

“Allow yourself some light, child, not all is lost. I fear ze taking of your parents is one piece of a much larger puzzle, and to return them safely to you, we will need to do much digging. Tell me, Ned, at your home did you come across any liquid? Anything zat looked like mercury?”

With everything that had happened, Ned had forgotten all about it.

“Yes! Whiskers took a sample, but … how do you know?”

Ned’s Debussy Mark Twelve was preparing to “excrete” the liquid from Lucy’s shoulder, when Madame Oublier stopped him with a raised palm.

“No need, little clock, I know already what it is. We have seen it before.”

ed’s heart was racing. Finally an answer, some clue as to where his parents had been taken, or at least why .

“What’s happened to my parents?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

In reply, the Farseer only clapped her hands, and two men in pinstripe suits entered the tent.

“These are …” began Madame Oublier.

“Mr Cook and Mr Smalls,” said Ned. “We’ve met before.”

“Indeed,” said Mr Smalls, with a nod.

The pinstripes acted as spies on Ned’s side of the Veil. They infiltrated every level of the josser world, from its newsrooms and government right through to its police. It was their job to alert the Twelve of any issues ahead of time.

Mr Cook cleared his throat.

“Ladies, gentlemen, George. You all know how bad things have been of late. It would appear that someone is helping Darklings to cross over to the josser side of the Veil. There have also been several sightings of Demons, though their aversion to daylight has at least kept the sightings brief, and their impact minimal. Like you, the other circuses under the Twelve’s command are struggling to keep up and we are at the point of needing outside assistance.”

Ned shifted uncomfortably. On the countless occasions back at the house that he’d argued to see his old friends at the circus, not once had his mum and dad told him about the trouble they were clearly having.

“It points to a much larger conspiracy,” said Mr Smalls. “And one that has both the Twelve and their allies extremely concerned. Master Armstrong, the liquid you found has been seen elsewhere and it is because of this that we have come to see you. I’m afraid the incident at your home today was but one of many.”

Ned felt the hairs on his skin stand on end. His mum and dad had been kidnapped, that much the nit inspector had made quite clear. What Ned didn’t know yet was what the creature intended to do with them. He saw Lucy grabbing on to George’s fur so hard that the ape gave a genuine flinch, and even Benissimo was on the edge of his seat, whilst also clearly annoyed that there was intel he had not been told about.

“Well, go on, man, spit it out!” said the Ringmaster.

“Well, the link, sir, is in the liquid itself, or rather its presence at the scene of the crimes. Several months ago, we caught wind of some abnormal robberies. Abnormal because of the techniques employed, and the target: always gold, never cash or other valuables. At first we thought little of it, till the larger banks started to report similar incidents. Things came to a head when entire national gold reserves went missing. We are talking about thousands of metric tonnes of gold here, disappearing in mere minutes. The last robbery took place in Fort Knox, America. Gentlemen, ladies, erm, George, all of the world’s gold reserves – and I do mean all of them – have been … stolen.”