Late morning


It was cold and rainy on Candlestick Row, when Virgil Carstairs stepped into the opulant lobby of Pendragon Hotel. His work with Gus Wilde meant that the hotel was fairly familiar to him. He unclasped his coat and quietly made his way towards the front desk, past a clutch of milling guests.

With the G8 3/4 Summit coming up later this month V wasn't surprised to see that the place was busy. No doubt full of journalists and diplomats arriving ahead of it.

Daylight was clever in his choice of lodgings. Any CAWW figure would hardly stick out in this setting.

"Good morning," he smiled at a receptionist, relaxing into the cadence of his pureblood upbringing. "I'm here to see Ishmael. I believe he's expecting me. Virgil Carstairs."

The witch across the counter recognised either his face or name - she returned the smile and asked him to wait a moment. Someone was to escort him up to the Serpens Suite.

Virgil allowed himself to look impressed. Daylight either knew a Wilde or he spared no expense, if he was staying at one of Pendragon's more palatial suites.

It was easier to think about such details than it was to think about why he was here. His nerves had recovered since the events in Cheapstowe but the prospect of meeting someone so involved in his CAWW work was... far from reassuring. He hadn't made up his mind, whether to tell Yavin just yet.

Nemo's father. That's what V told himself now: he was simply meeting Nemo's father.

       "Mr. Carstairs?" a hotel attendant approached politely. "Just this way, please."

Thomas Daylight
Senior Mage, Federal Bureau of Covert Vigilance
Congress of American Witches and Wizards

"Come in," Thomas Daylight called at the knocking door and helped things along with a flick of his wand. Thr doors swung open and he turned fully from the coffee cart. The room was dimly lit, just the big round windows letting in the scattered sun and a wet smell.

Thomas cut a modest figure. He wasn't talk or short or very thin or very fat. Even though he was down to his vest and shirt-sleeves, it was apparent he was well-dressed.

His visitor was, too. Thomas peered at him over his glasses.

"Coffee?" he asked, just that one word a marker for a faint Chicago land accident.

"Tom Daylight. I looked into you, Virgil. You're the Minister of Magic's cousin. I take it we're leaving him out of this?"

Tom was used to keeping his nerve, but inside his stomach was in a knot. He'd had to make dozens of excuses, inquire quietly in the most unusual places, and all the while struggling with the reality he had a child he'd never known about. Natalie Morrow. And she needed him. It was more than inconvenient. It was exposing and shameful.

The suite was as sumptuous as expected, insofar as he could tell in the weak morning light. Virgil liked hotels. They all had the same underlying scent beneath the intentional smells - a fresh, clean fragrance. All the good hotels, anyway.

"Please, black," he smiled politely at the offer, steady eyes meeting the ones peering over at him.

And he couldn't help it - looking for Nemo in this man. There was something there. A softness in the shape of him that was absent in Cassandra Morrow. He looked very normal and reassuring. The kind of person who knows what to do in an emergency, who expects the trivialities of life to already be in place.

The kind of person who has you looked into.

Virgil used his teeth to remove his single glove and pocketed it. "I like to think any Minister deserves a shot at plausible deniability when their young cousin gets caught up in a spot of trouble."

He had decided how to approach this - British, pureblood, erudite - to better resemble what might be expected of him.

"Thank you for taking the trouble to be here, Mr. Daylight." Virgil dipped his chin into a slight bow. "I'm sure Natalie will appreciate it."

Thomas Daylight
Senior Mage, Federal Bureau of Covert Vigilance
Congress of American Witches and Wizards

Daylight let out a puff of air at the mention of Natalie. An 'oof', maybe. It was a spontaneous and genuine show that he was not in his normal position here in Scotland, that he was not on his usual errands. If he and Virgil were to be allies in this thing, then Daylight was prepared to shed some pretense.

"Have you been able to get a message to her?" To Natalie. Daylight's wand and magical will poured Virgil's coffee and soon they both had a cup. In the low lighting, Daylight hadn't yet realized the reason for Virgil's odd way of removing the glove, a gesture that Daylight had seen but not absorbed.

He was preoccupied, obviously. And, in spite of himself, taken in by the posh young wizard who really did look and act princely. Theatrical.

"Or heard anything from her?" From Natalie. It was becoming a 'thing' that he hadn't said her name since he'd learned it.

He leaned on the high marble window sill, feeling the chill of it and the window behind him.

He wondered just how much Daylight knew about Natalie. Had he always known? What had Cassie told him? The way she spoke[1] of Nemo's behaviour the other night... it irked Virgil that anyone could say that of his friend.

"I sent a message[2] through someone at the Goblin Office," he answered after a sip of coffee, "to let her know she will be appropriately represented. I haven't heard back."

What was she doing right now? A sigh escaped him. He hated this. Hated not being able to see her, hated picturing her in that goblin dungeon without him.

Virgil set down his cup to remove his coat, feeling claustrophobic. "I didn't say who was representing her," he explained with a half-smile at Daylight as he draped the coat over a chair. "Didn't seem right to say as much in writing, instead of in-person. She always thought you were a no-maj."

And he couldn't be any further from that, as a bigwig in the Bureau.

1.	14th April - Mother's Words Made Scavenging Birds
2.	14th April - Tongue-bound

Thomas Daylight
Senior Mage, Federal Bureau of Covert Vigilance
Congress of American Witches and Wizards

Daylight tried not to show that he was watching Virgil's every move. He wasn't only the Minister's cousin, but an Unspeakable. And Unspeakables no matter where they came from had to always be watched. He wondered what in the world kind of young witch Natalie was that this young wizard was her partner in crime.

It was a very Unspeakable thing to do, to show and hide certain things from certain people.

Daylight had looked into Natalie Morrow, too. She was a musician now with two albums. Reported missing, turned up in London. She had immigration troubles last year that somehow didn't end up on his radar. It both comforted him and disturbed him that he hadn't discovered her then. If he hadn't then nobody else likely had. It didn't occur to him to admire her or the opposite.

Right now, he had work to do.

"I'm aware," he said a little hard. He had not been aware. A no-maj? Christsake, Cassie. Of all the things.

Then he clocked it. He frowned in pity.

"Your hand - that was the collateral? You know, I heard they did that. Dont worry, you'll get it back. Goblins always follow the rules as long as they're the ones who wrote them."

They should probably get to work. He summoned over his attache case and it opened for him, letter-sized pages arranged themselves on the coffee table.

He reclaimed his coffee and took a seat, shrugging at Daylight's reassurance that the goblins would return his hand. It was an inconvenience but Virgil supposed that one way or another things would work out.

"I'm not worried," he watched as the older wizard got out some paperwork. "They don't like wand-users down there but they aren't unreasonable."

And he couldn't entirely blame them for suspecting he or Natalie had something to do with Ozz. It was a logical step in their investigation.

As he examined the pages on the coffee table, he thought about how Cassandra was right to send Daylight. The man reeked of competent bureaucracy. Nemo might get a kick out of that. She didn't vibe with paperwork.

He missed her.

"Neither Natalie nor I have ever met Ozz..." Virgil began, running his thumb along the rim of his cup. "When I was down there it seemed like they had a different lead to go on for that. I think our focus ought to be on the alleged trespassing of Hag Town."

He glanced up from the papers to study Daylight instead. "We were only trying to help a friend, she gave me a mark that led us to believe we were allowed safe passage."

Thomas Daylight
Senior Mage, Federal Bureau of Covert Vigilance
Congress of American Witches and Wizards

"Natalie did? She gave you a mark? What kind of mark?"

There he'd said it. He consulted his notes. He didn't have anything on a 'mark', and only a big question mark near Craeky Hob. He added under with with a fountain pen in quick tidy capitals 'Hag Market'. His attempt to get information about the place from the British Ministry had come up dry. It could have been they didn't want to tell him, his source was inept, or his being covert about it had bit him in the ass.

"And who's representing you?"

If Virgil hadn't involved the Minister of Magic, he wondered what indeed kind of contact he had to stand in for the most powerful 'wand-user' in this tidy country.

Details. Call it an Unspeakable's habit but he didn't enjoy having to part with details so soon after meeting someone. Much less after meeting Tom Daylight of all people.

Virgil tugged at his earring anxiously, or tried to until he remembered his missing hand.

"I'm representing me," he lowered his arm and sat back, legs crossed. "Because of the mark. Let me see if I can take this from the top..."

The younger wizard paused, getting his thoughts together.

"Natalie and I ran into an old friend of hers. A woman, who it turns out isn't quite human." Virgil focused on some point past Daylight, through the window. "Anka. She asked us to enter the market to buy back a cape that Ozz the goblin had stolen from her, and she gave me a mark on my forehead that was meant to act as a pass."

Virgil set down his cup and gestured at his own countenance. "It only shows up at the Hag Market. As a reward for the favour, Anka... bestowed me the mark, indefinitely. It means I have a right to enter the market and consequently a right to represent myself."

That seemed straightforward enough, for now. He wasn't really certain what to call Anka. 

"The pass only applies to me," V clarified, expression pinched and guilty. "It would have applied to Nemo if she and I were Tethered - that's what they call a blood connection, down there. But we aren't."

Thomas Daylight
Senior Mage, Federal Bureau of Covert Vigilance
Congress of American Witches and Wizards

Daylight took down notes like he was in court, quick, thorough and impassive. If Virgil was in any way upset by his ordeal, Daylight couldn't detect it. It was unexpected, considering all. For the first time, he was ashamed to realize, he imagined Natalie must be beside herself.

'Nemo'. Daylight looked up. Her stage name, from her records. Cassie hadn't mentioned it. Odd. It must have some other meaning.

"I encourage you to retain some kind of counsel," he said. "It's generally ill-advised to represent yourself in any kind of proceeding."

He didn't immediately offer to be that person for Virgil, who Daylight knew very little about, who Daylight could not be sure had his fate truly tied to Natalie's. Their interests may diverge and that would leave them all in a tight spot. They may have diverged already. He tapped his pen on the page and looked up.

"So you went down there bearing this mark and it comes to be that Natalie has been charged with a crime but you haven't? And now you're up here. But she's down there. Do I have that right, Virgil?"

Ill-advised. Everything about this was ill-advised, what did it matter if he went to trial and fucked it up even further? But he nodded at this piece of advice anyway, even if just to contemplate inspiring a conniption in the family lawyer.

Virgil sat forward, elbows on knees, when Daylight started speaking again.

       "Do I have that right, Virgil?"

His insides twisted angrily and he could feel the blood rushing to his ears. Nemo was down there, alone. He couldn't even look at the sky without thinking of her because she didn't have recourse to a window.

"You have it right, precisely," he enunciated bitingly and then reined in his tone. "I want her out. Natalie is important to me. I'll do whatever is required of me to that end."

It felt like venom having to say that to a man who didn't even know his remarkable daughter.

Thomas Daylight
Senior Mage, Federal Bureau of Covert Vigilance
Congress of American Witches and Wizards

There it is, a little energy. Daylight hadn't been truly trying to manipulate a response, but now that he'd got one he felt a little more assured that Virgil Carstairs would be a useful ally. Then Daylight could get Natalie settled, her mother appeased, and make some kind of assurance this was all behind him. That plan after the plan, though, he was not naive enough to think it'd be that easy. Family was never that easy, and that's what he had now. Another family whether any of them wanted it or not.

"That makes two of us," he said. "I'm happy to know I'll have your full cooperation. Now."

He sat back on the window sill with two of his papers.

"Our best way forward is to avoid the goblin legal machine as much as we can. Allowing the charges to stand or submitting to a trial would be a disaster. In the human world I might say delay delay delay, but goblins live two hundred years and we don't have that kind of time."

He clicked his tongue. "And your Ministry either needs to be bullied more, or they really don't intend to intervene not while there are charges. But - if we can get her out on some technicality then the Ministry can put some kind of protections in place for whatever the goblins will want from her about the murder thing. Assuming you weren't actually involved in that."

He didn't know Natalie at all. Just that she had been capable of running away and living without permission in the United Kingdom for years. And trespassing in this Craeky Hob. And apparently being very friendly with this miniature and highly placed Unspeakable who didn't look to Daylight to be innocent of anything.

Virgil didn't like any of this.

Listening to Daylight, he realised that maybe it would be wiser to find counsel for himself. His mind was suited to a great many things - music, magic, mysteries of all sorts - but he only knew enough legalese or politicking to keep himself out of trouble. And he was already in a lot of trouble.

"We weren't involved," he assured the older man with a grimace. "Not in any way that I can tell. It's possible that by helping Anka we inadvertently played a role in the death of Ozz."

Why obfuscate? Daylight knew what he was doing and he could do it better if he was prepared.

All the same, it seemed ludicrous that a CAWW figure was going to be more instrumental to Natalie's freedom than the Ministry itself.

"The Goblin Office told me it would be better to keep Ministry involvement to a minimum." Virgil explained distractedly, running a hand through his hair. "Cheapstowe - that's another name for the place - they don't like wixes throwing our weight around down there."

His surname probably pushed all the wrong buttons where goblins were concerned. "But I'm familiar with the head of our Beings Division," he added, reluctant. "If there are protections to be put in place, he is more than capable of enforcing them."

Cepheus was probably really not happy with him right now, though.

Thomas Daylight
Senior Mage, Federal Bureau of Covert Vigilance
Congress of American Witches and Wizards

"Hmm." Daylight took more notes as Virgil spoke. If he was a liar, he was a very good one. Daylight wouldn't allow cautious skepticism to stop him from getting what was helpful from Natalie's friend. Lover? No. He didn't detect that. Dedication not ownership or infatuation. Unmessy in that respect, thank goodness.

"Let's get your Beings Division contact in the loop," Daylight resolved. "What's his name? And I might as well ask now who else you have that we can use."

Daylight was at the disadvantage regarding useful players because for the moment, he was still trying to extricate Natalie Morrow while keeping the whole thing from CAWW and his wife. As much as he understood the duties of a father, well, his legitimate children would not have put him in this position. This was Cassandra's doing. What an awful thought, Thomas, he thought. Better mend that so you can sleep tonight.

A father must always be a father, no matter how inconvenient it might be. He massaged his forehead and made ready to note down whoever it is the little prince could produce.

He didn't like being indebted to people - and here Daylight was, asking who else Virgil knew that they could use. Like disposable tissues.

"Cepheus Gamp," he leaned back with a sigh. "And there's Oswald Prewett at Slaughter Fulbright, family friend, handy for resources."

That was another owl for him to send off. Prewett would help but it would come back to bite him later, somehow. He rattled off a couple more names, relatives in well-placed positions, and then trailed off hesitantly.

There was one more name. If he chose not to disclose it now, Daylight might find it suspicious if he discovered the connection later - it was the kind of thing V would say if he didn't have anything to hide from a Bureau man involved in weapons development.

"My... ah, my godfather is the head of Mysteries." Virgil affected a miserable, uncomfortable mien. "Yavin Morgenthau. If possible I'd rather we don't get him involved."

Godfather was a less troubling descriptor than mentor at least.

He gestured aimlessly and avoided the older wizard's gaze. "Natalie doesn't like him."