Chapter 28 The Man With Frost For Hair
A man strode through a vast corridor, his heels echoing off the golden engraved pillars and walls. Spurts of flame from the rises in the ceiling lit up the way. His hands were placed calmly behind his back against his suit trousers. Though his visage was human, his enlarged joints made him appear bony and lanky despite his upright posture. His most defining feature was his frost-white hair; it looked blown back by a gust of wind.
Upon reaching an arched doorway at the end of the hallway, a calm voice came from the other side. “Mr Mid-Winter, please, enter.”
Mr Mid-Winter relaxed his shoulders and ran both hands through his hair. Straightening his tie, he entered. After closing the door behind him, he performed a slow bow, offering his honour to the individual sitting at the desk in front of him. Much like the hallway and walls, the oval room was engraved with golden outlines. A large window sat to the right of the desk, where the light entering created a shadow that put the individual in darkness.
Mr Mid-Winter could not even feel the man’s presence. It was indescribable. It was like staring into darkness itself.
“I’m sure you’re aware of the failings in Eurella,” the man said.
Raising his head to look at the shadow, he replied, “I watched the footage, your excellency. I offer my condolences. At least Eurella suffered casualties.”
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“Yes they have, but the plan didn’t go as intended. The scripture about the stone has turned out to be true.” The man then revealed a book from the shadows and placed it on the table for Mr Mid-Winter to see. Though the cover was mostly burnt, the author’s name was present at the bottom. It was by the Clockwork Caretaker. “My sources within the Unwanted say that they do not have the Stone of Discordia. It has been stolen from them but it remains in New London. Retrieve it for me and you will receive your payment.”
“I will, your excellency,” Mr Mid-Winter replied.
“I do know you have a history in New London, I hope this won’t be an issue,” the man said, his tone twisting into a threat.
“It is with a member of the Ill-Favoured Five, your excellency,” Mr Mid-Winter replied. “I can assure you, they will not be a problem.”
“Let us hope not; they are the ones who foiled my plan even though they were not aware of it. I would like you to retrieve the Stone of Discordia with the help of an experimental group of Greys, Mr Mid-Winter.”
“Of course, your excellency, my company has never let you down before. Would you like me to eliminate the Ill-Favoured Five in response?”
“If deemed necessary—it is not a requirement. Be warned, Mr Mid-Winter, they may be blind to what is going on but don’t act as if they are fools. This cannot lead back to me, is that clear?”
“Yes, your excellency.”
“Do not return without it.”
Mr Mid-Winter bowed slowly, offering the man his honour once more. Taking his leave, he took a few steps away from the door before stopping. Reaching into his blazer, he took a silver pocket watch out with a black face. Turning it over, he rubbed his finger over an inscription on the back which read:
‘With All My Love, Quinn”