Julia had picked up a worn looking leather belt and was buckling it around her waist. She slipped a couple of long, curved knives into their sheaths and fastened them to the belt. The practised way in which it was done suggested she'd done this several times before. Interesting family.
Fergus joined us eventually and walked straight to the table like a child approaching a pile of wrapped gifts under a tree in December.
"Simon?" Julia asked him.
"Locked up nice and tight. He gave me these to distribute - he's set them up to communicate only with each other and himself. We couldn't find Lucy, but she left a note saying she'd gone out for the afternoon with her dad, so she should be safe for now."
Julia nodded slowly. He handed us all a miniature headset complete with earpiece and microphone. I put mine on, and was surprised at how well it fit.
"Hello?" I said into the microphone.
"Rebecca," came a disembodied voice in my ear. "Reading you loud and clear." The voice was businesslike and brisk and sounded much older than the teenager to whom I knew it belonged. I listened as the others checked in too, sensing the changes in them as the iron began to kick in, their voices changing, becoming stronger and harsher. The physical changes were less pronounced - movements became more deliberate, expressions more intense. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and menace. I felt the now familiar changes seeping through me, and I grinned to myself. It was a hell of a buzz, to be honest.
I stood at the table and took stock of our surroundings. Thick wooden door to the left, massive stone walls to the front with two windows facing out onto the gravel drive with its ornamental fountain, more stone walls to the right, with another massive wooden door set further back. I knew that the door on the left had been locked by Lucy, but Julia had come up with another key, and it stood open now. The door on the right led to a smaller utility room, and then outside to more gravel. There was more stone at our backs, ancient and heavy and reassuring.
Oliver and Fergus spoke briefly, then disappeared together through the open door, returning a few minutes later. Oliver carried a large cool box, and tucked it under the table. Fergus now wore a black leather coat that reached to his knees, and handed a similar one to Marcus, who grinned his thanks and slipped his arms into the sleeves, and I glimpsed the glittering rows of knives embedded in the lining.