A Charm of Magpies 03 Flight of Magpies Read Online Free Page A

You caught her thieving. How many disciplinary problems—”
    “In the past. She’s a justiciar now.” Stephen spoke through his teeth, lacing his fingers tightly together. The law against using powers in the Council building was draconian, absolute, and enforced without the slightest laxity. It had to be, to prevent people like Fairley ending up as smears on the wall. “I object in the strongest terms to anyone but Mrs. Gold and myself dealing with this.”
    “You don’t make that decision, Day.” John Slee straightened in his seat. “The Council does. It would hardly be justice otherwise, would it?” The sneer was unmistakeable.
    “Are you suggesting that Mr. Day and I wouldn’t apply the law fairly?” Esther’s voice rang like cold iron.
    Mrs. Baron Shaw raised a brow at Esther. “Tell me, Mrs. Gold. If you knew that one of your team was a criminal, can you assure me you’d deal with them precisely as you would anyone else?”
    Stephen felt a rush of cold down his spine. Esther knew damned well that he was committing crimes with Crane, regularly and with enthusiasm. She had lied for him he didn’t know how many times in the last few months, to cover his absences from his own poky rooms at night, his unexplained powers. Had Mrs. Baron Shaw heard the whispers and jokes that Stephen knew had always circulated about him? Was there meaning in that little smirk on Fairley’s face?
    Esther’s expression was startling in its malevolence. “If Saint is using her powers to steal, she will be brought to justice. But that should be ascertained by a fair investigation.”
    “Which is what we have set in motion,” Fairley said with satisfaction.
    “No, I said ‘fair’. Not ‘decided in advance by people whose idea of work is sitting around a table listening to unsubstantiated gossip’.”
    “Esther!” Stephen yelped.
    “How dare you—” Fairley began angrily.
    “Jenny Saint has scars, Mr. Fairley, earned in the line of duty,” Esther snarled at him. “She works . Can you say as much?”
    Crane was lounging on the couch with a glass of wine and a lurid sensation novel by Mrs. Braddon when Stephen finally got in, exhausted and apprehensive, around eight o’clock that night.
    “Good evening.” Crane didn’t look up, turning the page with a care that suggested annoyance. “I thought you’d be back earlier?”
    “I’d have loved to be back earlier.” Stephen took the Magpie Lord’s ring from the desk, fastening it around his neck where it belonged. “I’d have loved not to go out at all. Good God, Lucien, the day I have had.”
    Crane shut the book as Stephen went to pour himself a drink. “What’s wrong?”
    Stephen filled the glass overgenerously with the excellent Burgundy. He felt he would need it. “To start with, Saint’s being accused of theft.”
    “Your Saint? Miss Saint?”
    “I’m afraid so. There’ve been jewels and so on stolen from high rooms, third and fourth floors, and a couple of witnesses claim to have seen a windwalker—or rather, to have seen a fair-haired woman running away through the air. And since Saint is the only windwalker in London that we know of, and probably the only blonde female one in all England…”
    “Just a moment. Can she do that?” Crane asked, eyebrows tilting. “I’ve seen her jump around impressively enough, but actually walk on thin air?”
    Stephen began to respond, and realised that Crane had only seen Saint in action in a cellar, never in the open air. “Yes. Windwalkers can, uh, pull the ether to a point strongly enough to take their weight for a second. They can’t stand still on it, they have to keep moving, but yes, she can walk on air.”
    “Practitioners,” Crane muttered. “Full of surprises, aren’t you?”
    “Indeed. Anyway, yes, Saint could very easily climb through the air to a high window, and break in safely, and run away afterwards. She could and, in the opinion of Councillor Fairley, she would , because she was