A Scandal in Battersea (Elemental Masters #12)(35)

“What do you mean, ‘pushing to come through?’ Pushing on what?” Nan asked, bewildered.

“There’s worlds and worlds, lying right up against this one,” he replied. “One of ’em’s where the Fey creatures go, when your Cold Iron and crowding get too much for ’em. But there’s others, worlds that I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. What’s trying to get here is from one of those worlds. I’m the Oldest Old Thing in England . . . but there’s Older Old Things in those other worlds, and most of them are none too nice.”

His eyes were grave as he said that, and Nan swallowed. Robin had a habit of understatement, and when he said “most of them are none too nice,” she knew these things were probably terrible indeed. “Can you help us?” she asked.

“Gonna try,” he replied. “But this isn’t a ghostie, that Sarah and I can send onward, or I can wish the Wild Hunt on, at least not while it’s on its own ground. And ’tisn’t a thing of the Fey, that I can command. Like I said, I can feel it pushing, but I can’t tell where it is, or even if it’s in a where at all. It’s kind of a general feeling, y’see—like I feel it seeking for thin spots, sometimes finding them, but not that it’s come all the way through.” He shook his head. “’Tis mortal hard to describe, and that’s probably because it is what it is, and I am what I am. I’m rooted deep in this world, and this thing’s . . . not.” His chin firmed with determination. “But I’m the Oldest Old Thing in all England, and this is my place to defend, and defend it I will!”

His tone was brave, and there was no doubt he meant what he said—but would he have the power to make them a reality? If he was afraid of this thing. . . .

. . . then maybe it did have the ability to lay waste to all of London.

“So, we’re still where we were before we asked to speak with you,” Nan replied, wishing she felt more relieved. “Though at least you have been warned, and through you, all creatures of the four Elements. I just wish we knew more.”

“Don’t despair! It hasn’t come through yet, and it may never. Unless it has help on this side, the barriers between the worlds are mortal hard to breach. Them as has the Second Sight will be of aid, I reckon,” Robin said confidently. “Their Sight is tied to things being as they should be. It’s when things go awry that the visions come.”

Well, that certainly sounded like what was happening to young Amelia. Nan glanced over at Suki, who was practically covered in birds and being aided by the hobs. “I suppose we’re done here for now . . . how can I quickly contact you if we find out something, Robin?”

Robin smiled slightly again. “Well, that’s why I brought yon hobs. They don’t mind housen, they don’t mind Cold Iron, and they like the company of Big Folks. If you need me, you tell one of them, and I can be with you quick as you can say knife. I reckoned one could live in your dwelling, and one can go to Memsa’b’s School with Suki. They’ll make themselves handy, too, it’s what they like to do, to pay for their keep. Tidying up, things of that nature. Tending gardens and crops. Fixing things.”

Nan blinked at him, and Sarah looked amused. “And how do you think Grey and Neville will feel about this?”

“Same way the other birds yonder feel about it,” Robin said promptly. “Birds like hobs. Hobs like birds.”

“I think it would be lovely if the hob could keep the toys at the school in good repair,” Sarah told him. “The children are mostly very good about trying not to break things . . . but they are children.”

“That’ll suit a hob down to the bone.” Robin cast another look in Suki’s direction. Nan followed his gaze. It appeared that the breadcrumbs had been exhausted, for the birds had all taken to the trees, where they sat preening themselves in contentment. Robin waved a hand as one of the hobs happened to look at him, and a moment later, both hobs and Suki were trudging happily through the snow toward them, like something out of a Snow White panto.

“So,” Robin began, when all three stood before them. “I’m sure the lads have already introduced themselves to you, Suki, but Grown Folk need proper introductions.” He cleared his throat, and waved at the two hobs. “Mistresses Nan and Sarah, I make known to you Durwin and Roan.”

Each hob made a little half bow when his name was spoken. Both came about as tall as Nan’s waist and were wearing stout boots, heavy, gray canvas trousers, heavy oatmeal-colored woolen tunics, and the sort of soft felt hats that farmers wore in winter. Both were bearded. Durwin had a shorter beard than Roan, and Roan’s hair and beard were a dark red, as opposed to Durwin’s straw-color, but otherwise they were so very much alike Nan was afraid she’d never have been able to tell them apart if it hadn’t been for hair color. Both had heavy, bushy eyebrows, and at the moment, both had slightly anxious expressions, as if they were hoping to please.

“I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Master Durwin, Master Roan,” Nan said as gravely as she could. It’s just a good thing there’s no one in the Gardens right now, or we’d look like right lunatics, standing about and talking to the air. I’m pretty sure no one can see Robin or the hobs but us.

“As am I,” said Sarah. Both little men blushed shyly. “Our friend Robin has suggested you might be willing to come live, one with us, and one at the school where Suki will be in a few days.”