I wonder who painted it. I can’t really see the paint. Maybe it’s more like a photo. Some sort of magickal wall print. You find all sorts of weird shit down here … I always thought this portrait must be ancient. But Lady Ruth’s daughter would only be in her 40s. Around the same age as Penny’s parents.
She’s about my age, I think, in this portrait. She’s outside, in the sun. Her hair is almost yellow. And even though she’s crying, she doesn’t look unhappy. More … wistful. I used to think she looked like she’d lost something—but maybe I only thought that because I was down here looking for Baz.
It would suck to have to go down into a crypt to visit your mother’s grave.
I swear his family doesn’t even realize how creepy they are.
I get out my phone and take a video of the portrait. I don’t know if I want to show it to Lady Ruth—it’s kind of disturbing. But maybe it’s a clue that could help her find her daughter. Maybe we should help her with that next, after we find Jamie. I hope she’s right, that this girl is alive somewhere. All grown up and just fine.
I really don’t understand why both of Lady Ruth’s kids ran away. She seems grand to me. Laid-back, generous. I like her house. I like the way everything in it feels old. Older than Lady Ruth, even. Like it was built to have multiple lives. I’d like to have a house like that someday.
I wonder what kind of a place Baz wants … I think I hear him coming back up the tunnel.
There he is.
He looks dramatic, lit up by torches. He’s casting two shadows.
I get up from the ground and walk towards him. He turns his face away when I try to kiss him.
“Did you just drink a rat?” I ask.
He shrugs one shoulder.
“I can’t believe you went hunting without me.”
51
AGATHA
I’m driving this time. Dad let me take the Volvo. The drive to Watford has been torturous so far, even with air-con. I’m bad at small talk—because I hate it—but Niamh seems to be incapable.
“When do you become a full-fledged magickal vet?” I ask, after twenty minutes of silence.
“It’s not like there’s a certification,” she says. She’s got her cool sunglasses on, and she’s staring out the window.
“But you’ll be done at some point?”
“I just said, there’s no programme.”
“Right.”
After another twenty minutes, I try again—“Will you have an office of your own someday?”
“Look,” she snaps, “I know that your dad can’t wait to get the thingamapigs out of his waiting area—”
“For snake’s sake, Niamh! That’s not what I was implying. I was just trying to make conversation.”
She looks suspicious. “Why?”
“Because we’re in the car together on a long drive?”
“You didn’t have to come.”
I spread my fingers out over the steering wheel in frustration. “I want to help you with the goats.”
“I thought you didn’t care about the goats,” she mutters.
“I didn’t know about the goats. Hell’s spells, do you want my help or not?”
She glowers out the window. “Yes. I want your help.”
When we get to Watford, I park outside the gates. There are a few other cars parked out here. The Mage used to take his Jeep straight through the gates and over the drawbridge. What a dick.
“I suppose it’s a good sign that we didn’t see any goats on the road,” I say.
“Unless they’ve all fled the county.” Niamh has a medical bag slung over her shoulder. She pushes open the gates. As soon as we’re through, we see Simon and Baz, walking towards us on the Great Lawn.
Simon breaks into a smile. “Agatha!” He jogs closer. “And … Niamh, right?”
“Simon Snow,” Niamh says.
“Hey,” I say. What are they doing here— is Watford under attack? Maybe that’s a paranoid way to think, but you’re more likely to run into Simon and Baz during an epic battle between good and evil than you are down at the pub.
“This is Baz,” Simon says to Niamh. He points his thumb at her and looks at Baz. “This is Niamh. She’s going to take my wings off.”
Niamh frowns. “He asked me to.”
“So I’ve heard,” Baz says, reaching for her hand. “Nice to meet you.” He nods at me. “Wellbelove.”
“Baz.”
“What are you guys doing here?” Simon asks. He’s wearing a very nice collared shirt. Knit. Blue argyle. With short sleeves that hug his biceps. Is Baz shopping for him now?