Vespers, an overfed man with long white hair, gave a combination of a nod and a shrug. “We are, but we’re picking up speed. Co-ordinating between the Central Banks of the world was never going to be a straightforward process, yet I am happy to report that we have overcome significant hurdles in the last week alone.”

“And how close are we to a bank the citizens of Roarhaven can actually use?”

Vespers smiled, like he was delivering good news. “Two years. Maybe eighteen months.”

“You’ve had five years,” China said, and she watched Vespers’ smile falter. “We have the money – we have more than enough capital – but where has it languished since I first tasked you with this operation?”

“In, uh, in the First Bank of Roarhaven—”

“No,” said China. “The First Bank is a building. That’s all. It’s a building where we keep, relatively speaking, a very small amount of money. Cash for day-to-day requirements. No, Aloysius – I’m talking about the vast amounts of wealth that sorcerers have at their disposal, accrued over centuries. Where is that money?”

Vespers reddened. “Mortal banks, Supreme Mage.”

“Mortal banks,” China repeated. “Where our people risk constant exposure and the magical community at large in no way benefits from all of the investments they make. I asked you for a bank, based in Roarhaven, which all sorcerers around the world could use. A bank that is protected, private, but operates on a global scale. I asked you to slip it into existence beside all the other mortal banking institutions. Do you remember me asking you that?”

“Yes, Supreme Mage.”

“I didn’t want attention drawn to it. I didn’t want questions asked. I didn’t want opposition mounted. I asked of you impossible things, Aloysius, and what did you say?”

He swallowed. “I … I said I could deliver.”

“That’s right,” said China. “You did.”

“I will redouble my efforts.”

She pinned him with a look. “It troubles me that your efforts can be redoubled.”

Vespers shifted in his seat. “I … I only meant that a lot of my time is taken up with leading my own Council. But I will, of course, prioritise the matter from this point on.”

China kept her eyes on him until he started to wilt, then turned to the American. “Grand Mage Praetor, how are you faring with President Flanery?”

Gavin Praetor, a trim man with a distinctly feline quality to his movements, inclined his head slightly. “He is a boorish man. Arrogant. Narcissistic. Greedy for money and power. A thug in an expensive suit is how he’s being described by certain political commentators. In short, easily controlled and perfect for our needs.”

“So long as he gets his second term in the White House,” said China.