The general noise of upset animals from the rear of the shop grew louder. Finn wished they’d quieten down so he could properly concentrate on figuring out what Lucien was building to. He fiddled with the bell on the desk.
“Hugo,” continued Lucien, “I’m not so blind that I can’t see how difficult this is for you to be stuck here, working this job, watching while all these out-of-towners come in and try and run Darkmouth for you.”
“Great,” said Finn. “Just give us the keys to our house and we’ll get things sorted again.”
“Finn,” said Hugo, with a hand out to quieten him. “Not now.”
“Not now?” asked Finn.
“It’s fine, Hugo,” said Lucien. “I understand the young man’s frustration. He was destined for great things and now here he is, as are you, watching while others decide when this ordeal must end.”
“Others?” said Hugo, sceptical. “You’re the only one making decisions.”
Lucien considered his response a moment. “Hugo, I want to get you involved with us again.”
Finn straightened up, wary but interested.
Hugo was silent, curious.
“It’s not right to have someone of your experience sitting here on the sidelines waiting for a result of the investigation,” said Lucien, “when it’s clear that we could use your knowledge of Darkmouth at times of difficulty.”
“Me too?” enquired Finn.
“Yes, why not?” Lucien said, like that was a fine idea. “Next time there is an invasion, or a gateway, or some enemy running through our streets we’d like you both there.”
Hugo’s face lifted.
“To direct the traffic,” concluded Lucien.
Hugo’s face fell.
“Traffic?” spluttered Finn, red rage coming over him. How could Lucien do this? How could his father sit there and take it?
“Not only to direct traffic, of course,” Lucien said brightly. “Crowd control too, if necessary. Reassuring the locals, the shopkeepers who own places such as—” he picked up a small clump of fur sitting on the counter, examined it before clapping it from his hands, “—this establishment.”
“Maybe we can give the Legends speeding tickets,” said Finn. “Ask them to wait at traffic lights while we desiccate them.”
Hugo didn’t quieten him this time.
“The Most Great Lives of the Legend Hunters is such an important book,” said Lucien, the change of focus abrupt and pointed. He folded his arms, ignoring the sounds of animals rising at the back of the shop. “It is the one they will look at for many generations to come. It is the book that defines a Legend Hunter’s reputation. Or a traitor’s. All they want to do is print a new version. Finn, you must know that if you don’t act properly, if you refuse to help, suspicions will grow. The Most Great Lives writer is due here any day now. You don’t want the black paper to fall over your family’s name.”
Woofy Wash’s owner, Mr Green, stuck his head from his office door. “It sounds like a zoo out back, Hugo. What’s going on?”
“Think about it, Hugo,” Lucien said, tapping his fingers on the counter. “That’s all I ask.”
“Oh, I’m thinking about it all right,” said Hugo.
Lucien was enjoying this. Finn knew it. He knew his father knew it. It was as clear as the shine on Lucien’s wispy-haired scalp that he had come simply to humiliate them under the guise of friendliness.
“Elektra! Tiberius!” Lucien called out.
His children appeared from the back of the shop, pushing rudely past a perplexed Mr Green. Elektra had a parrot feather in her hair. Tiberius had a writhing lump down his jumper.
“Hand it back,” Lucien ordered his son.
Tiberius reached down his sweater, pulled free a shivering gerbil and handed it to Mr Green before leaving with his sister and Lucien. Mr Green shook his head, drew a whistling breath through his clenched teeth and – with a writhing, slippery gerbil in hand – returned to his office.
Hugo had his head down. He took a long breath. When he spoke, it was with enormous control.
“You might think I’m doing nothing, Finn, but you would be very wrong,” he said. “I know what Lucien was up to. But I also know we have to be very careful and not give him any excuse to kick us out entirely. There’s no Council of Twelve to help us. No other Legend Hunters. The Half-Hunters are gone. But I do have some friends left. And I do have a plan, son.” He lifted his head. “So you’re not to do anything stupid, do you understand?”
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