Chapter 259: To Britain in Search of the Enemy (14)

Back in the room, I dropped onto the sofa. Franc had already changed out of the outfit that had been a pleasure to look at and into lounge clothes every bit as easy on the eyes, and she settled beside me, stroking my cheek.

"I don't like it when you scowl with that handsome face. Come on — smile?"

One coquettish line from Franc, and the foul mood that bastard had left me in came completely undone. Hopeless. That's what I am.

"But was someone really following us?"

"Less a tail than a feeling that every last thing I did was being picked apart."

Franc hadn't caught so much as a hint of it. A faintly flustered look crossed her face as she went on.

"I didn't notice we were being followed at all... How did you know it was a tail, Seoha, among so many people?"

"You know when ants are marching in a column, and one or two break formation? They jump right out at you. Through Spatial Perception, the ones on us felt exactly like that. I kept an eye on them, and sure enough they came after us, careful as anything. Two done up as a middle-aged couple. Two posing as a young local couple. And three disguised as friends on a trip together."

"...I don't think my ability even deserves the name Spatial Perception."

She looked thoroughly wilted. I reached over and gave that plump backside a few pats.

"But the ability's evolving, and you've been a help to me with it. Keep tearing yourself down like that, and I might end up the worthless one."

"Seoha..."

"So which is it? Are you going to beat yourself up, or not?"

"Pfft. Not!"

I pulled her in as she laughed, bright and bubbling, buried my face in her generous chest, and thought.

If everyone camped in the hotel lobby was like that G.S. sub-manager and the deputy assistant secretary — gathered to dangle a sweet deal and drag me back to their own country — then things were going to get genuinely annoying before we ever made it home.

I'd done worse than turn the American down. I'd torn into him, so they probably wouldn't come at me sloppily. Stick a tail on me, though, and the irritation alone might finish me off.

In practice, the number of scouts, headhunters, and agents dug in at the lobby had barely changed. Only now was I starting to grasp how much care Yeongeun had taken, back in Korea, to keep people like that off me.

"Dad's running late again today, isn't he? Shall we turn in?"

"Yes... yes."

A bad mood doesn't leave stress behind if you bury it under a good one. That's the rule.

I scooped Franc up in a princess carry. Color rose in her face, and she peppered mine with kisses as I carried her slowly toward the bedroom.

When we got home, I'd have to love Yeongeun thoroughly too, for everything she put up with for my sake. Hwayeon as well, of course.

After seeing Dad off to the University of London in the morning, we decided to spend the day at Stonehenge.

"When I told Dad we were going to see Stonehenge, he looked a little disappointed, didn't he?"

"Yes. I think he wanted to go sightseeing with Mother."

"Dad still takes Mom out whenever he can find the time. You think he hasn't had enough of it?"

"Doesn't that simply mean he loves her that much? I'm envious. It means they've kept that love alive for more than twenty years."

This from Franc, who went on to call Dad a romantic.

A romantic, huh.

He'd been sorry he couldn't bring Mom along, but the instant he took the lunchbox Franc had packed with her own hands, that regret looked as if it had blown clean away. Was a packed lunch from his daughter-in-law really such a joy?

Ding-dong.

"Oh, looks like they're here. Let's head out."

"Yes!"

I picked up the picnic bag with our lunch and snacks, and opened the door with Franc in a frilled dress white as snow and a little brimmed hat. The chief concierge stood outside in a neat uniform, posture impeccably respectful.

I'd gotten up early and asked her the easiest way to Stonehenge, and she'd offered the hotel's driver and a car. I'd been bracing for a taxi or the railway.

Following her out to the external lot, I found a vintage automobile waiting — the sort that might have been fashionable in the 1950s — with the Savoy logo set handsomely on its flank.

Settling into the car and heading for Stonehenge, I got a peculiar feeling. When was the last time I'd actually gone anywhere by car?

"You have the Space Wall, Seoha. You're faster than most racing cars, so of course it would feel that way."

"Fair. Aside from special cases, I hardly travel at all. Oh — looks like the trains are running. Want to take one back?"

"I'd love that!"

I asked it while a train tore past beside the road, horn blaring, and Franc smiled as though any conveyance in the world would please her so long as the two of us were on it, humming under her breath.

About an hour later we reached the grassland near Stonehenge, and I asked the young woman who had driven us how to get back by train.

"The railway runs from London out to Salisbury, near Stonehenge. The visitor center is about two and a half kilometers west of the stones, and a tour bus runs from there into Salisbury. From Salisbury you board the train, alight at Salisbury station, and South Western Railway will bring you back to London."

"I see."

She'd played chauffeur all the way out, so I tipped her a hundred dollars for the trouble — and learned she wasn't a driver on the Savoy's payroll at all, but one of the hotel's concierges.

She tried to refuse, insisting it was simply a concierge's duty. I told her that putting a guest at ease was a concierge's role, wasn't it, and pressed the money on her anyway. She laughed softly, bowed, and turned back.

"Wow. It's wide open in every direction."

"My head feels clear, and my chest feels light."

A few clouds, but neither hot nor cold — a mild day, wonderfully brisk. Clear air, blue sky showing between the white, green earth below. The view was genuinely fine.

Looking around Stonehenge, I saw plenty of tourists circling the barrier line, all of them taking photographs.

I wrapped up my own sightseeing from a distance, one sweep of Spatial Perception across the stones. Franc took my hand and went right up to the rope strung to keep people out, eyes glittering at the monuments — lintels laid across the uprights, the whole mass of them some eight meters high.

"What do you suppose Stonehenge was really built for?"

I explained it to her as she marveled at a fallen mass of rock in front of us.

"I saw a documentary on Stonehenge once. The program argued back and forth over whether it was a sundial or an altar for offerings. In the end they came down against the sundial. Animal bones and the like had turned up in pits dug around the shale circle, so they sided with the theory that it was meant for sacrifices."

"Is that so? I'd rather it had been a sundial than an altar."

"Why?"

"An altar for offering sacrifices feels somehow gloomy, doesn't it?"

"Mm. Fair enough."

Franc smiled, soft and shy, and pressed in close, meaning to take a selfie of the two of us on her phone.

The sight put me in a mischievous mood. I wrapped her up from behind, cupped those full breasts in both hands, and grinned like a villain. Franc's eyes went round. She puffed her cheeks and jabbed a finger into my side.

She didn't seem to know, so I decided not to tell her that inside the circle there was a stone called the Slaughter Stone.

"Ah, look over there. Doesn't the face of that stone look just like a person's?"

"Oh, it does. Kind of resembles your face, Franc..."

"Excuse ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me?"

She put on a show of anger, then burst out laughing, hugging my arm, delighted. Watching her, my own mood lifted.

No one recognized us, openly or otherwise, and that made it all the more comfortable.

I'd come for Stonehenge and spent the walk arm in arm, watching Franc's delighted face instead, and somewhere in there it became lunchtime.

Honestly, an hour was more than enough for the stones, and we'd been here three. From the halfway point on, Franc had clearly been paying more attention to playing with me than to the monument.

As lunch drew near, family groups started flooding west in a rush. Wondering if something was over there, I looked with Spatial Perception and found a large bus-only lot, a building, and rows of benches and tables.

Ah. So that was the visitor center? No free seats there either, so we sat on a small bench nearby and I took out the lunch Franc had packed.

Her head rested on my shoulder. Watching the clouds drift past at their leisure, I found the thought occupying me that the tangled, irritating business of the Phase World could turn out however it liked.

If Hwayeon and Yeongeun were here, I wouldn't have another thing to wish for.

"It would have been even better if Hwayeon and Yeongeun were with us."

"Huh? I was just thinking the same thing."

I sat with Franc's hand in mine, staring thoughtlessly over grassland that ran all the way to the horizon, and far off in that sky I saw storm clouds rolling in.

A bit of a shame.

The clouds came on faster than I'd expected. I sat in a daze a little longer, and the blue sky was gone without a trace — nothing overhead but a solid lid of gray.

The wind seemed to be carrying a chill. This was no longer weather I could honestly call pleasant. Looking around, I saw that more than half of the hundred-some tourists were pulling on long sleeves.

I got up, and as Franc and I walked slowly around the stones, I said:

"Feels like it's going to rain, doesn't it?"

"There's moisture in the wind. It really might."

Whoooosh...

I looked up at the sky, carpeted in gray, and a wind thick and soaked with damp wrapped around me and moved on.

Blades of grass whipped up and curled into whirlwinds, and a sound of wonder slipped out of me on its own.

Mm. I'd wanted to walk with Franc, too — out across grassland running to the horizon, under a blue sky.

Whoooooo...

Damp wind. It left me feeling a little clammy, and I frowned. The tourists nearby seemed to feel the chill as well; I could see them shivering.

A girl nearby who didn't look ten yet gave a hard shudder, then tugged at the waist of the trousers of the man standing beside her.

"Dad. I'm cold."

"Our Jessie must be cold. Shall we go back to the car and get warm?"

"Yeah!"

With a grunt of effort, the father hoisted his daughter up. She looped her arms around his neck and beamed. Father and daughter turned back toward the lot, and from the other direction two Western men, tourists by the look of them, passed by in conversation.

"I'll be damned if I know what kind of unpleasant wind this is."

"Ha! For all I know, the grudges of the people offered up as sacrifices are gathering."

"Don't tell me you've been taken in by that non-Celtic gossip. Isn't the sundial hypothesis the leading one for Stonehenge?"

"And yet they say no one can explain why the bones found in the surrounding pits were there."

Beside them, a couple who seemed to be sightseeing as a family held the hands of children about elementary-school age. The woman, presumably the wife, looked up at the cloud-choked sky and spoke to her husband.

"Darling. There was a lounge at the visitor center over that way. Let's go there. At this rate the children will catch cold."

"Shall we?"

The visitor center.

"Shall we go to the visitor center too?"

"Yes!"

Franc and I followed the young couple over and stepped inside, into a wide space selling Stonehenge souvenirs and displaying materials about the site.

Rest areas had been laid out inside and out — ideal for getting out of the damp, cool wind.

I gave the interior a rough once-over, sat at an empty table, and settled into watching the people wandering about. Somewhere in that, the storm clouds went past mere cloud, and a gray fog began to rise around us.

As the fog thickened and the scenery grew hard to make out, the tourists started to look faintly uneasy, watching it come in.

"Fog? Where did this come from?"

"If we'd been a little later, we wouldn't have seen Stonehenge properly at all."

"I've been here a few times, and I've never seen fog this bad..."

"Of all the days to pick, it had to be this one."

"Siyoon, you're the one who made the schedule!"

Korean tourists? Four women who looked like college students sat at the next table, and the three with straight hair started laying into the one with the short bob.

"Wh-who could've known it'd turn out like this? Anyway, weather like this is God's revelation that we should get to Westminster Abbey, immediately!"

"Heyyy. We haven't even been here thirty minutes."

"Oh, please. Quit flashing the devout-Catholic-virgin act!"

I watched the college girls shrieking, then looked up at a sky the fog had swallowed. I found myself wondering what that bob-cut girl would do if I just blasted the clouds out of the way.

Chin propped on the table, I was taking in the view outside when Franc turned to me, regret written on her face.

"The fog's getting thicker. Shall we head back to London?"

"Sudden as it is, there's a strange atmosphere to it, don't you think? Going back like this feels a little wasteful."

It was my first time seeing fog this thick in broad daylight, and I was indulging the mood — when I caught something that could not be happening, over toward Stonehenge.

I snapped my head around and stared hard that way. Franc tilted hers and turned to follow my gaze.

"Franc. Can you feel it?"

"What?"

I said it while looking toward the stones, and she glanced between me and that direction, head still cocked.

Right. Franc's Spatial Perception only reached a radius of about five hundred meters. Stonehenge was some three kilometers from here.

"A Return Point just appeared at Stonehenge."

I whispered it into her ear, and she flinched. Hiding her own surprise, she whispered back into mine.

"H-how can a Return Point appear in reality?"

"I don't know ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠either."

Why had that thing appeared out of nowhere? What was waiting if I went through? And if I went in and needed to come back, how was I supposed to manage it?

All sorts of thoughts flickered through my head. Through them, my instinct insisted — hard — that I had to go in there.

"...Franc. Let's go."

"Seoha?!"

She startled at the sight of me rising and hastily reached out to catch me.

At the name she'd cried in surprise, the college girls stole glances at the two of us and started whispering.

"Seoha? Don't tell me it's the one I'm thinking of."

"Come on. Why would he be here?"

"Seoha isn't exactly a common name, though."

"Look at the one beside him. That face is unreal. That's the spirit the Grand Blue master was supposed to keep around, isn't it?"

I ignored their muttering, drew Franc in by the waist, and whispered against her ear.

"Nnn... But we don't even know what kind of place it is. What do you mean to do if you go in and can't come back?!"

"No. If I'm right, I can come back. Before we go in, let's tell Hwayeon and Yeongeun."

Ignoring the eyes on our backs, I took Franc's hand and walked out of the visitor center.

We plunged into fog so thick I couldn't see what was right in front of us. Behind us, a center employee called out to stop us. I ignored it.

I switched on the Certifier and called Hwayeon and Yeongeun. The line connected at once.

"A Return Point just appeared at Stonehenge."

I looked at the two of them — Yeongeun aghast, Hwayeon startled — and explained as fast as I could.

"I can't talk long. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠My instinct is telling me to enter the Return Point, now. If I'm right, there's a way back out, so don't worry too much. I'm counting on you to handle things here."

At the speed of it, the two of them shoved their shock aside and all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but shouted at Franc, standing beside me.

"Please leave Seoha to me!"

"I won't do anything dangerous."

I waved to say not to worry, shut off the Certifier, and called Hiarid — who, at this hour, would be standing watch outside Ha Cheolsu's room in the Alliance officetel.

"I'm going into the Phase World. The Space Wall will vanish, so keep watch, the way you always do."

"I'll send Miho as well, so watch with her."

Then I hung up and called Miho's phone.

The fog was so thick I couldn't see an inch ahead, but I trusted Spatial Perception and strode toward Stonehenge as if I were running, waiting for her to pick up.

...What was this brat doing, not answering?

Just as the waiting started to grate, the line connected, and a thin, cute voice came through.

"Miho. Go to the officetel Hiarid's guarding, right now, and watch it with her until I call."

"Good. I'll buy you something tasty when I get back, so listen to Hiarid."

I shut off the Certifier, ended the call, and swept the surroundings with Spatial Perception. Tourists stood motionless around the fog-bound stones, murmuring. Cars on the road were crawling.

With fog so thick you couldn't see your own nose, they didn't have much choice.

I reached Stonehenge, noisy with people calling the names of friends and family, hopped the no-entry rope, and strode into the circle. Through the gray fog, above the great rock called the Slaughter Stone, a hovering mass of light came into view.

"Heavens. A Return Point, truly, here in reality..."

Franc let out a low sound, staring at it — still not quite able to believe it, by the look of her.

Ah. I'd nearly forgotten. I looked once at Franc, arms around me and eyes full of worry, then switched the Certifier back on and sent Dad a text.

My lovers knew. Through Hwayeon, Mom and my sister would hear it too, and I'd texted Dad. Nothing left to do, was there?

The belt was a modified concentrated emergency-ration belt. Eaten sparingly, it would last three months at the least. Water, too — if it came to a crisis, drinking my own urine would easily cover the five-day Phase World entry cooldown.

Good. Checks done.

"Let's go."

"Nnnn... yes!"

It looked dangerous. She ought to stop me. She just couldn't find a reason sound enough to do it — and so Franc, face crumpling, came and wrapped her arms around my waist.

I reached into the faintly rising mass of light and began to pour Phase Power into it. The weak glow strengthened, and the mass itself grew.

As the light intensified, the world around us began to wash white, and I felt the arms around my waist tighten harder.

Jeral Packard. The only S-Class ability user in history.

His sudden disappearance, without a word — maybe he, too, had found a Return Point in reality and crossed over.

Events lining up this neatly felt staged, and that left me a little uneasy. I trusted my own strength and shook the feeling off.

At last the light grew too strong to keep my eyes open. The moment I winced, it burst, and began painting everything around us pure white.

And seriously — was there really no way to block this damned eye-searing flash?