Dagger Magic

They made their escape without being apprehended. Jane McLeod had a simple supper waiting when the two of them returned just after seven o'clock. Over modest helpings of silver-side of beef with cabbage and boiled potatoes, McLeod told her of the beauty of Holy Island, and the environmental work going on there, but nary a word of who they had gone to see, or why. Nor did Jane ask. McLeod's announcement of a trip to Ireland on the morrow elicited a raised eyebrow, for even Jane knew that Ireland was totally outside her husband's police jurisdiction, but her only comment was to inquire what kind of bag she ought to pack for him.

At a quarter past eight, after rendering appreciation for the meal and apologies for having to eat and run, Adam bade her good night as he and McLeod betook themselves and their maps off to Lady Julian's, pulling up in front of her Edwardian townhouse just before half-past. Peregrine's Morris Minor was already there, parked directly underneath the street light that lit the sidewalk and steps up to Julian's front door. Two spaces farther on was the dark green Volvo Estate usually seen running errands in Father Christopher Houston's parish.

Of Christopher himself there was no sign, but the door was just opening to admit Peregrine, his blond hair agleam from the brass carriage lights to either side of the door. Returned to the more formal and genteel milieu of Edinburgh, he was kitted out in classic navy blazer and grey flannel bags tonight, instead of the more casual attire of earlier in the day, but the battered sketchbox under one arm was the same that had gone to Holy Island. Adam's medical bag was in his other hand. Behind him, a lean figure in clerical attire pulled the door wider and partially emerged.

"Well, your timing is impeccable as usual, the lot of you!" said Christopher. "Come in, come in, don't stand on ceremony. Julian's given Mrs. Fyvie the night off, so I'm playing butler; she's out in the grotto with tea waiting. Peregrine, I distinctly remember marrying you to a smashing young woman, not a week ago. This is not what you're meant to be doing on your honeymoon!"

He took the medical bag from Peregrine and hustled them inside, shaking hands all around. Like the rest of them, a sapphire shone on his right hand. Still nattering of social small-talk, he closed the door behind them and led the way through the vestibule and green-damasked hall to the spacious and airy sun parlor at the back of the house, where Julian Brodie spent much of her time when not at work in her jewellery studio.

The drapes were drawn across the bowed French window that made the room so bright during daylight hours, and the room was lit tonight primarily by candles, though a high-intensity lamp was goose-necked over a rolling table in the center of the room, at present occupied by a straw-encased teapot and a tray of delicate famille vert porcelain cups. Lady Julian was pouring, herself like a porcelain doll, enveloped in a graceful sky-blue sari that softened the lines of her wheelchair. The clean aroma of jasmine wafted upward with the spice-smells of sandalwood and cinnamon, soothing and reassuring.

"Come in, my dears, and we'll start with a cup of tea," she said, beckoning them with a smile and a nod of her silver head. "Adam, you've had me absolutely on tenterhooks all day, wondering how you got on with Tseten."

She had already warded the room, though not against them. After taking his bag from Christopher, Adam sketched a Sign with his ring hand before crossing the threshold, feeling the protection coil around him before it let him pass. After saluting Julian with a kiss on the cheek, he settled obediently beside her as she chivvied the rest of them into seats around the table like a mother hen, making certain everyone had tea.

He was struck, as always, by the sheer opulence of the room, a delicious hotchpotch of every kind of Orientalia, that delighted the eye but never quite overwhelmed. Against walls hung with figured yellow silk, fans and silk embroideries vied with scrolls done with brush and ink and exquisite Oriental watercolors. Tabletops and shelves displayed a variety of rare and curious objects from every Oriental culture from the Indian Ocean to the China Sea - jade and cloisonne, porcelain and lacquerwork, ivory and bronzes, most of it garnered during the course of her late husband's business sojourns in the Far East. Underfoot was the gleam of parquetry lavished with the jewel-tones of Oriental rugs.