Because if we've lost her... and something awful happens to the silly old biddy...

She made her way as quickly and quietly as she could over the uneven cobblestones. What a piece of luck she hadn't bothered to change out of her hideous Wycliffe uniform-she was practically a shadow herself, slipping through the darkness like a real secret agent.

Reaching the corner of the side street she took a quick look behind her. Miracle of miracles, Bibbie was still inside the jalopy. She lifted her hand in a half wave, half you b.l.o.o.d.y well stay there gesture in the hope that Bibbie could see her clearly, then ducked clandestinely into the side street.

Tall, decrepit tenement houses squashed shoulder to shoulder, marching down both sides of the street as far as she could see. Smoke drifted above them, thick and stinking. A few doorways here and there were illuminated by gas lamps, shedding just enough light to be useful. More light from a street brazier, cheerfully burning. But where was Eudora Telford? The street was silent-deserted. She was nowhere in sight.

Melissande hugged herself, as close to dithering as she'd ever been in her life. What to do? What to do? How had Eudora managed to get so far ahead? Or had she been in that cab after all?

Oh, where was Reg? Surely the wretched bird had caught up with it by now? So should she push on to see if Eudora was in fact ahead of her or should she go back to Bibbie, who was probably fine all alone in the jalopy? She was a witch with incants to spare, after all, she was perfectly safe, of course she was, but- "Melissande?" said an astonished whispering voice behind her. "Melissande, what the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

Swallowing an undignified yelp, she swung around. "Gerald?"

Bundled in a long dark coat, an impressive-looking First Grade staff in one hand, Gerald stared at her in dismay. "I don't believe this. How can you possibly be here?"

"I could say the same thing of you," she retorted. "Don't tell me, let me guess. You're following a clue?"

"Not a clue. A person," said Gerald.

"What a coincidence," she replied. "So are we."

His jaw dropped. "We? We? What do you mean we?" He looked around wildly. "Is Reg here?"

"Not at the moment, but she's around. And Bibbie's back that way-" She jerked a thumb. "Minding Monk's jalopy."

Gerald grabbed her arm. "Mind it somewhere else, Melissande. Go back. Now. All three of you. Get out of here, quickly!"

Honestly. Some people never learned, did they? "Save your breath, Gerald," she said, pulling her arm free. "Witches Inc. is on a case and-"

"Hey ho," said Reg, joining them in a rustle of feathers. "What are you doing here, Gerald? Don't tell me Eudora Telford's an international master criminal!"

"Who? Eudora who?" said Gerald, distracted. "What are you talking about? Who the h.e.l.l is Eudora Telford?"

Melissande winced, just a little bit, as Reg settled onto her shoulder, claws p.r.i.c.king through her black blouse. "If you have to ask, Gerald," the bird said, "then probably she isn't an international master criminal. At least not the one you're looking for."

"Well, Reg?" said Melissande. "Was Eudora in the cab?"

Reg shook her head. "No."

Rats. "That means she must've been dropped off somewhere along this street. Right then, we'd better push on. See where this thoroughfare leads, and if we can still find her."

"What?" said Gerald. "No! You can't do that. You have to get out of here, you two, and take Bibbie with you. Any second now the person I'm following is going to come out of the laneway over there and-"

"How do you know?" said Reg.

He looked at her. "I know."

"Yes, but how do you know?" Reg persisted.

"I know because I've had a few tricks shoved down my kni-up my sleeve over the last six months," he said, exasperated. "Which I don't have time to explain right now. Please, will you just trust me? You have to-oh, d.a.m.n."

Further down the street, a tall figure wearing a long black coat emerged from a deeply shadowed laneway and turned right.

"Oy," said Reg, flapping upwards to get a better line of sight. "That's Errol Haythwaite."

Melissande peered around Gerald. "Are you sure? How can you tell?"

"These eyes don't lie," said Reg, still hovering. "So. He is up to something nefarious. And he's about to get done for it." Sniffing, she dropped back to her human perch. "Couldn't happen to a nicer pillock."

Gerald rounded on them. "He's only going to get done for it if you two skedaddle."

She sighed, irritated. "Gerald, are you sure turning into a rogue wizard hasn't done something to your hearing as well as your eye? We are on a case. We are not skedaddling anywhere."

"Melissande-" He sounded like he wanted to shout. "Why are you following this Eudora Telford?"

"Because she's a wet hen running some kind of errand for Permelia Wycliffe," said Reg. "Why are you following Errol Haythwaite?"

"Good question," said Melissande. "If he's as upper crusty as you and Monk say, what's he doing in crustless, mouldy South Ott?"

Gerald muttered something impolite under his breath. "He's meeting with Haf Rottlezinder-which is why I don't want you two anywhere in the vicinity."

"Haf Rottlezinder?" Melissande looked at Reg. "You don't suppose that's who Eudora-no. That makes no sense. Why would Permelia need to-unless she's the one-and we've accidentally crossed paths with-Reg, are you sure you didn't hear anything else Permelia told Eudora?"

"Yes," said Reg, and chattered her beak crossly.

"Melissande, what are you talking about?" said Gerald.

She turned to him. "Earlier this morning I overhead bits and pieces of an argument between Permelia and Ambrose. They were fighting over something to do with the company. And not long after that Eudora turned up, and Reg overheard Permelia begging her for a favour. But surely she wouldn't send Eudora to see-"

"She might," said Reg, slowly. "If she wanted to keep a prudent distance between herself and a questionable character like Haf Rottlezinder."

"But that would mean Permelia is behind the portal sabotage."

"Who says she isn't?" said Reg. "Or maybe she and Ambrose are in on it together."

"But-but Gerald said Permelia and Ambrose were in the clear."

Gerald pulled a face. "I might've been wrong about that. Obviously there's more going on here than Sir Alec's team managed to uncover."

Reg chortled. "We uncovered it all right, sunshine."

"Yes, well, there'll be plenty of time to gloat later," he muttered. "And we both know you will."

"But-Permelia?" said Melissande. "She's so-so law-abiding. Such a stickler for the rules. Why hire us to find a biscuit thief if she's merrily romping around Ottosland blowing up portals? It doesn't make any sense. And where does Errol Haythwaite fit in? He and Permelia don't have anything to do with each other."

"Apart from the fact she's his employer, once removed?" said Reg.

"That's what I'm trying to find out!" said Gerald. "But you two are making it very difficult!"

She opened her mouth to say something blighting, but was interrupted by a door opening further down the street. She and Gerald stepped back, flattening themselves against the wall behind them, as a well-wrapped figure emerged from the house.

It was Eudora Telford. "Thank you so much," she said to someone standing in the open doorway. "Yes, I do feel much better now. And I understand perfectly where it is I need to go. I do appreciate you giving me such clear directions."

A murmuring, as the person she was speaking to said something indistinct.

"Oh, no, no, I mustn't put you to any more trouble," said Eudora Telford. "I shall be quite all right. Thank you again."

The door closed and Eudora Telford stepped back. In the dim gas lamp lighting she looked quite limp with fear.

"Oh, Permelia," they heard her say. "Oh, this is dreadful. If you weren't such a dear friend-if you didn't need me..."

She turned and started walking away, following in Errol Haythwaite's footsteps.

"Oh lord," groaned Gerald. "Go after her, Melissande. Stop her. It might be nothing more than a bizarre coincidence that she's here... but even if that's so, this situation-this area-they're far too dangerous for a woman like her. Please. Get her to safety."

"And what are you going to do, sunshine?" said Reg.

"My job," said Gerald. "Now go on. Get out of here. Hurry."

"All right, ducky," said Reg, with a rattle of tail feathers. "You heard the boy. Let's go."

Melissande looked at Gerald. In the flickering brazier-light his face was older and grimmer than she'd ever seen it. Very nearly the face of a stranger. "Um-did you know you've-ah-turned silver again?"

He touched his blind eye. "Oh." On a deep breath he covered it with the palm of his hand and muttered something. The air shivered. And when he lowered his hand she saw that his silver eye had turned brown. How eerie. "Thanks."

She nodded. "All right then." She wanted to say, You be careful, Gerald. She wanted to say, Don't get killed. But nothing she said could make any difference. He had a job to do, and so did she. "So, I suppose we'll hear from you later?"

"Hopefully," said Gerald, staring after Eudora Telford. "Melissande-"

"Yes, yes, we're going!"

Reg leapt off her shoulder, flapping ahead. Melissande hitched up her horrible long black skirt and ran after her.

Oooh, Saint Snodgra.s.s, don't you let me go a.r.s.e over teakettle on these stupid cobbles!

There was no sign of Errol Haythwaite when she and Reg caught up with Eudora, some ten doors down from where they'd last seen her. The silly woman shrieked and turned when she heard her name called.

"Gracious! Your Highness!" she squeaked, eyes popped wide with shock. "What are you doing here?"

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

Reg had settled on top of a defunct lamp post, sufficiently shadowed for Eudora Telford not to see her. Melissande flicked her a glance, hoping she'd get the message to stay put. From the corner of her eye she saw a running shadow-Gerald-sprinting down the other side of the street as he chased after Errol Haythwaite.

"What am I doing here, Miss Telford?" she said, wrenching her attention back to Eudora, and then realised she had no idea what to say next.

Obviously she couldn't tell the silly woman the truth. Spying on you and Permelia wouldn't help matters at all. She could say Permelia had changed her mind, but then Eudora Telford would go back to Permelia Wycliffe and, lo, see the cat making a meal of the pigeons.

"Um-" she said, knowing she now looked exceedingly silly herself... not to mention suspicious. Eudora Telford. Eudora Telford. What do I know about Eudora Telford..."Ah-well-His Majesty sent me."

Eudora Telford stared. "His Majesty? You mean-"

"Yes, Miss Telford. My brother. King Rupert the First of New Ottosland."

"But-but why?"

Oh, what a very good question. On top of the lamp post, Reg was shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Well, Miss Telford, the thing is, Rupert-I mean, His Majesty-has-has a sweet tooth," she said, frantically wracking her imagination. "Yes. He's very fond of his cakes and pastries. And I-um-well, I mentioned to him that I knew you, a luminary of the internationally renowned Ottosland Baking and Pastry Guild-and he's very anxious to meet you himself."

"Me?" said Eudora Telford faintly. "Not Permelia? Your Highness, are you sure?"

Ignoring the pangs of guilt-I'm only lying to save her-she nodded. "Quite sure, Miss Telford. His Majesty is hoping you might-ah-make a visit to New Ottosland so you can teach the royal kitchen staff how to-to-create a better jam roll."

Now Reg was hanging upside down off the lamp post, wings waving as she whooped with silent hilarity. Melissande risked glaring at her, but the wretched bird took no notice.

Eudora Telford was trembling. "Oh, Your Highness, I don't know what to say! Except-however did you find me all the way out here in South Ott?"

Melissande looked around the grim, poorly-lit street. "Yes, it is rather an odd place for you to visit, Miss Telford. Do you mind if I ask what's brought you so far from home?"

Eudora Telford clutched her reticule more tightly. "Nothing important, Your Highness. A favour for a friend. Nothing for you to worry about. You-you were going to tell me how you found me."

I was? Oh. "Yes, well, His Majesty is a wonderful man, Miss Telford, but when he gets a bee in his bonnet he does rather want things to get done. No delay. And he's so very excited about the thought of you visiting New Ottosland that he instructed me to-to-" Oh, Rupert, I'm sorry about this..."-to extend his invitation to you immediately. Nothing would satisfy him but that I rush out this very evening and see you on his behalf. But when I reached your charming little bungalow I saw you leaving in a cab, so I followed you. I'm sorry. It's just-I didn't want to disappoint the king."

"Oh," said Eudora Telford, and looked down at her tightly clutched purse. "Well. That's perfectly understandable, Your Highness. Disappointing people is awful, isn't it? One-one is prepared to brave anything, no matter how frightening it might be, if that means not letting down the person who's relying on you."

Despite the good news about Rupert, the poor silly woman was still trembling. Still pale. Melissande lightly touched her cold hands. "Yes, Miss Telford," she said gently. "One is."

She risked another glance at Reg. The horrible bird had recovered her composure and was sitting on top of the lamp post again, rolling her eyes.

"And now," she added, "I think we should return to North Ott so we can discuss the particulars of your visit to His Majesty's court. I have a car standing by, which should be here any moment."

Looking at Reg again, she waggled her eyebrows in what she hoped was a clear hint to go and fetch Bibbie. But instead of flying off, Reg turned to look along the street in the direction Gerald had run.

Drat. "Yes, any moment now my car should arrive."

"That's very kind of you, Your Highness," Eudora Telford murmured. "Only, you see, there is the small matter of this errand, this favour..."

"I'm sure your friend would understand that you had to delay," said Melissande, and looked again at Reg. "Friends know that sometimes you have to make a choice. And being friends they don't hold it against you."

"Yes, yes," said Eudora Telford. She didn't look convinced. Reg didn't look convinced either but she flew off, away from Gerald, back towards the mouth of the side street and Bibbie.