What was much more likely, since this cricket match was a Test and going to go on for several days, was that the academy people were going to make arrangements for the real Maurice to get to Marseilles later that same day. Then they were going to phone someone in the Prince’s security team to say Maurice was on his way. In fact, it was just amazing luck that they hadn’t phoned while I was sitting in that concrete passage thinking it was all a dream. I would have had a rude awakening. Perhaps it took them a long time to arrange the journey. But they could well have phoned by now. Or Maurice could even have got here.
It was probably only the fact that the mages had been starving hungry and gone off with me in that taxi without saying where they were going that had stopped me getting arrested a couple of hours ago.
They would arrest me. They’d do that in my own world if I accidentally got in among security for the Queen. But this world was so paranoid that it had to have a charmed circle round a cricket field, and I’d got in on that, too. These people were going to accuse me of magical terrorism or something. I knew they were. I had to get away.
But at that moment they were still sort of attending to me, even though they were now discussing totem beasts and the way the animals reflected a mage’s personality. So I kept a humble, eager, novice-like look on my face. When they asked me if I thought Romanov’s totem beast reflected Romanov’s personality, I said, “Yes. It walked exactly like him.”
They laughed. Then Chick said, puzzled, “But didn’t he say anything else to you?”
I said, “He called me ignorant and went away in disgust.” As I said it, I wondered if it was Maurice’s academy that had sent Romanov to stop me before I did any acts of terrorism. But I saw that couldn’t be right. Romanov had known my name. I hadn’t told anyone here my name until just now.
“Just passing through, I suppose,” Arnold said dubiously. “Odd, though. I’d better report it as soon as we get to the hotel. Nick, you must be ready to give a detailed account to the Prince’s mages.”
“Sure,” I said, and thought that I’d better give them the slip on the way there.
Then Arnold said, “Call for the bill, Dave. Ladeeshun or whatever they say. Everyone got enough cash for this blowout?”
The four of them began fetching out money. One glance was enough to show me that it wasn’t anything like the couple of ten-pound notes in my back pocket. Their notes were kind of white, with black writing on them, like legal documents, and the coins were vast heavy things that rang down on the table like church bells. I knew I had to get out now.
I stood up. I said, “I have to go to the gents again.”
“Trying to get out of paying your share?” Pierre said, laughing.
The others laughed, too, and Chick said, “Hey, Nick, you never told us what your totem beast is. Or is it a state secret?”
“No
.... It’s a black panther,” I said, edging off.
“Go on!” said Dave. “That would make you a high adept!”
“That was a joke,” I said hurriedly. “Just a joke.” And I marched off, followed by jolly shouts and more laughter. I felt bad. They were quite nice fellows, really.
I didn’t dare run, but I walked quite fast, down the passage past the huge Frenchwoman—she glowered at me again—and opened the door into the yard. It was a narrow door, and I had to turn half round to get through it. That was how I happened to see the officer from the flier just coming in through the front door of the café. He was waving his cell phone and looking pretty agitated. You could see he had been hunting all over for us.
I shut the door very gently behind me and raced through the yard to the back entrance. There was an alley there full of rubbish bins. But no soldiers. Yet. I think the officer hadn’t been sure enough of finding us to have the place surrounded. But I was sure he must have a squad outside the front. I ran.
I ran for my life, out of that alley and then through several others, always turning uphill away from that street when I could. That may have been a mistake. For one thing, it got steeper, so that there were steps in some places. For another thing, there were more and more people about, lovers walking, or people just sitting in doorways, so that when I began to hear shouts and police whistles and lots of feet climbing up behind me, I didn’t dare run. The ones who saw me running would point me out to the police.
Then things got worse. Arnold’s voice suddenly spoke, sounding like it was somewhere inside of me. Nick, Nicholas Maurice. Come here. We want to ask you a few questions. I’d forgotten they were mages. They were probably tracking me by magic.
Dave’s voice spoke, too. Come on, Nick. Don’t be a fool. Nicholas Maurice, there’s a full security alert, and you can’t get away.
My name’s not Nicholas! I thought frantically. It’s really Nichothodes Euthandor Timosus Benigedy Koryfoides. It was the first time I’d ever been glad of having this string of outlandish names. They seemed to cover up the voices. I recited them over and over again and climbed the hill until I’d no breath left and was hot as a furnace. I pounded up another set of steps, saying a name for each step: “Nichothodes”—puff—“Euthandor”—puff—“Timosus”—gasp—“Benigedy”—pant—“Koryfoides!” And the voices faded away as I burst out into bright lights, shops, and crowds of people.
Thank goodness! I thought. I can get lost in these crowds!
It was proper city life there. Nobody spared me a glance as I went past tables on a pavement packed with people eating and drinking and then crossed the road among a bunch of happy folk having a night out. They were all much better dressed than me, but nobody looked at me anyway. I got my breath back wandering along that side of the street, looking into expensive shop windows, and I was just beginning to feel safer when both ends of the road filled with uniforms. Police and soldiers were stopping everyone from leaving, and squads were coming down toward me, asking everyone to show their IDs.
I bolted up the nearest alley. There was some kind of big church up the other end, and I stopped dead when I saw it. There were a couple of soldiers with rifles standing outside its door. Perhaps in this world you really could kneel, holding the altar and shouting, “Sanctuary!” and be safe. And they didn’t want me doing that. I leaned against the alley wall, wondering what to do. I knew what I should do, and that was simply walk on into another world or back into my own. But I couldn’t seem to do that, however hard I pushed my shoulders at that wall, no more than I could do it when I’d tried at home. I didn’t know what to do.
Then: Hang on! I thought. I spent most of today up a tree somewhere quite different. That should be safe enough if I can get there. I’ll try that.
So I looked around. And I could hardly believe my eyes. Paths to that wood, and to all sorts of other places, more or less radiated out from where I was standing. They looked dim and blue and at odd sorts of angles to that alley, but they looked as real as Romanov had said they were. I bolted up the nearest path.
It was night there, too, and fairly dark, but before I had gone very far, I could see the oval of turquoise light that was the cricket stadium. I took my bearings from that and trotted round and along into the wood. It was pitchy dark there, full of uncanny rustlings and birds hooting, but I refused to let that bother me and kept on trotting. I’ll find that panther, I thought, then climb a tree and let her protect me. That should do it.
While I was shoving through the next clump of bushes, I smelled a butcherish sort of smell and heard the most tremendous grating and cracking, like teeth on bone, and I realized I had found the panther. It was the extra blackness under the next bush. But before I could say anything, she gave a hideous, fruity growl.