Sixty-One Nails Part 73

"I suppose I believe you."

"You know I can't lie."

"I know you don't always tell the truth either. Very well, take it. Use it."

"Thank you."

I took the bra.s.s key and, despite being sure that no trace of the darkspore could remain, I picked my way carefully to the cupboard with the safe in it. The door was ajar and I kicked it open with my foot. Filling the bottom of the cupboard was an old safe with enamelled green paint and bra.s.s handles. The key fitted easily and turned with oiled precision. The handle turned down and I felt the solid clunk as the bolts retracted into the door. It swung open, revealing shelves of papers together with the soft black leather pouch containing the nails. I collected the bundle and closed the safe, locking it again to remove the key. The iron in the pouch weighed heavy in my hand, its jarring vibration making my nerves jangle. I returned the key to her and handed her the nails. "It would be easier if you removed it. "

"Still reluctant to touch the others?"

"I could tip them all out onto the floor and pick out the one I want, but that would be rude."

She considered this for a moment and then nodded, unrolling the case on her lap.

"If you wanted it badly enough, you could have taken it any time." She held up the sixty-first nail for me to take.

As I touched it, the metal fell into blackness.

Claire s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand away. "Gracious, that's cold." She rubbed her hand. "Oh, it's like the knife, isn't it?" she said, catching on.

"Something else for your journal," said Blackbird. "If what we are intending works out, we will bring the new Quick Knife to you later so it can be incorporated into the ceremony on Tuesday. Will you be here? "

"Yes. I have to get all this cleared up and there are all the preparations for the ceremony. There's still a lot to do. I'm going to be here until midnight at this rate. "

"Don't take unnecessary risks. If you can, have someone stay close to you. If we're not back by nightfall, go to the Highsmiths in Shrops.h.i.+re. Take the Remembrancer and his family with you," Blackbird suggested. "Will you meet me there?"

"No, but they have a house full of iron. You may be safe there for a while."

"A while?"

"It depends what happens when the barrier comes down. I think they will come here first. This is where it's weakest."

"What will they do?"

"Whatever it is, they've waited eight hundred years to do it, so I don't think it will be pretty."

"Should I warn someone? The authorities? The army?"

"No one is going to believe you, even if you tell them. And if they did, what are they going to do? Shoot people who look a bit strange? Evacuate London?"

"Bring the knife, I'll get Jerry to the Courts on Tuesday. "

"That would be best," Blackbird agreed.

I slipped the nail into my trouser pocket, making sure it wouldn't fall out, and then Claire escorted us down to the security gate, her weak smile as we parted a testament to her uncertainty.

Out on the Strand, it had clouded over and fat drops of rain were starting to patter onto the pavement. It was just as well that we weren't there long. After only a few moments a huge white van pulled up alongside the pavement and the window wound down to reveal Ben. "Jump in," he shouted over to us. "I'll get a ticket if I stop here." The police standing guard at the gates for the Royal Courts of Justice were already eyeing him warily. We scrambled over and jumped up onto the bench seat of the van. Ben moved off and there was a brief fumbling followed by a short argument as I made Blackbird wear the only seatbelt. The other one was wedged under the seat somewhere.

"I've been driving round for about a quarter of an hour, waiting for you to show. We're not going far," Ben told us. "I just need to find somewhere to park this thing. It won't go into a multi-storey. It's too tall. "

"What have you got in here?" I asked him.

"It's almost empty, but Jeff wanted the car and, anyway, this is a diesel." He said this as if it explained everything.

We drove down Fleet Street and turned down towards the river, making another right to circle down around the Embankment. Ben eventually found a metered parking spot around by Temple tube station. He fished into his overalls for change.

"How long do you think we'll be?" he asked us.

"That depends how long you need to finish the knife," Blackbird answered.

"If we get four hours, that should be enough shouldn't it? It costs the earth to park round here. "

"It is a bit more expensive than Shrops.h.i.+re," I agreed. He jogged through the raindrops and fed coins into the parking meter, returning with a ticket, which he peeled and stuck to the inside of the window. Then he opened the back of the van. He took out a blue metal toolbox, rusted in places where the paint had peeled away, and a short three-section ladder.

"I won't be easy to get that down through the pa.s.sages," I told him.

"It's small enough to get into most places," he rea.s.sured me. "And we can use it to get to the keyhole. I can't scramble around like you young things. My legs aren't what they used to be."

I nodded, accepting his wisdom. It had been a good thought.

I carried the ladder for him and we walked quickly back up through the Inns of Court to get to the door leading down to the river. Blackbird knew where she was going, so she took the lead and I followed on after, putting Ben in the middle where we could keep an eye on him. Along the way I felt the tingle of Blackbird's magic gently encompa.s.s us, lest the strange procession of a young woman with a torch, an old man with a toolbox and another man with a ladder, walking in line through Temple on a Sunday, attract unwanted attention. I shook my head at the strange world I now inhabited.

We reached the doorway and Blackbird pushed it open, listening in the opening for any disturbance below. There was nothing to hear above the faint stir as the water fell over the weir below us. She produced the torch she had bought earlier and clicked it on. Ben found a larger torch in his toolbox. Mine was still at the bottom of the river, but I could make light if I had to. Anyway, it would take both hands to carry the ladder. She led again and I followed with Ben bringing up the rear while he held his light for me as I manoeuvred the ladder around the tight corners of the stairway. He was right; it was a good size for tight places.

We reached the ledge along the edge of the river. The foam from the weir sloughed off and drifted luminously downstream. The river was higher and louder than it had been when we had been here before, the new rain swelling the flow.

With Ben holding one end of the ladder and me holding the other, we made our way slowly along the slimy walkway, sc.r.a.ping against the bricks as we edged our way along. With the ladder to carry, it took longer to reach the anvil, though I could feel the brooding presence ahead in the dark, waiting for us.

We knew we had arrived when the muted roar of the waterfall meant that we had to shout to each other. Blackbird flicked her torch around the arches and the gantry, s.h.i.+ning it into nooks and crannies as Ben and I carried the ladder along the bank.

"We're on our own," she shouted to me. "There's no sign that anyone's been here and the iron door looks untouched."

It was good news. Part of me had been expecting Raffmir and his friend to be waiting for us, guarding the iron door. Perhaps we could get away with finis.h.i.+ng this before anyone found out what we were doing. Blackbird climbed up onto the gantry while Ben and I manhandled the ladder and the toolbox up behind her. Then we crossed over the gantry above the underground river and Ben climbed down so I could pa.s.s things down to him. I followed them down and we cl.u.s.tered around the place where the iron door was mounted high in the wall. Blackbird held the torch while I extracted the nail from where it was safely stored in my pocket. "How does this work then?" Ben asked.

"I don't know. Why don't you try it first? I'd rather not touch the door if I can possibly help it." The memory of my chance contact with the iron gates at Australia House was still sharp in my mind. I had no wish to be thrown backwards into the churning water under the falls.

I carefully dropped the nail into the middle of his palm.

"Which way round does it go?"

"We don't know. Try it head end first. If it won't go in that way then try it the other way."

He reached up high and pressed the square end of the head into the lock. It went in a short way and stopped. He tried twisting it but nothing happened. The hole was just the right size for the head, though, making me think we were on the right track. "Try the other way around," I told him.

He pulled out the nail and turned it point first. It slipped into the lock almost up to the head.

"There's some sort of spring mechanism." He showed me, pressing the nail in so the end of the head was flush with the door. As he relaxed his finger the nail sprang out again. The door stayed resolutely shut.

"It fits perfect," said Ben, "But nothing's happening. "

"I think it needs a Fey hand," Blackbird said. "It would make sense as a fail-safe. The nail was entrusted to humanity, but humans wouldn't be allowed to open the door without one of the Feyre present. "

"Well, I'd better do it then."