The Broken Sun by Darrell Pitt

was sparsely scattered through the countryside.
    He finally landed in a forested valley, swathed in snow. Jack tethered the Lion’s
Mane as Mr Doyle shut off the engine.
    The detective stepped from the vessel, clapping his hands together. ‘We must come
here later in the year,’ he said. ‘Norway enjoys quite warm temperatures during summer.’
    Jack found it hard to believe. ‘You mean it has more than ice and snow?’
    â€˜It’s a lovely place to visit. Ask any Norwegian.’
    Jack felt his cheeks turn rosy as they donned overcoats. It was freezing . After consulting
a map, Mr Doyle found a trail and they began a long march down the hillside. Snow-covered
pines surrounded them. The landscape lay strangely quiet in the morning twilight,
as if a blanket smothered everything.
    It started snowing. Light flurries danced across the landscape as they followed a
wide, rocky path. The trail looked like it had been worn down by years of travel.
Mr Doyle pointed to a house on the far side of the valley, a small wooden hut, painted
red, nestled among the trees.
    â€˜I believe that is Professor Morely’s residence,’ he said. ‘We should reach it within
the hour.’
    â€˜I hope his reception is a little warmer than Professor Stein’s,’ Scarlet said.
    â€˜Let’s hope he doesn’t give us the cold shoulder,’ Mr Doyle said, winking.
    â€˜You notice, of course,’ Scarlet mused as they trooped on, ‘that these professors
are all men?’
    â€˜You’ll get no argument from me, my dear,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Education should be open
to all.’
    â€˜And yet it is not. Such inequality is unfair.’
    Jack had not thought much about women’s rights before he met Scarlet, but his mind
had been slowly opened to the inequalities between the sexes. There were protests
taking place with increasing regularity in England. Many women, including Emmeline
Pankhurst, were fighting so that women could have the same rights as men: the right
to vote, the right to education and the right to equal employment.
    â€˜One day it will change,’ Jack said. ‘I’m sure.’
    â€˜It can’t be soon enough for me,’ Scarlet said.
    â€˜Although I hope it will be peaceful change,’ Mr Doyle murmured.
    â€˜I assume you’re referring to the Valkyrie Circle?’ Scarlet asked. It was a terrorist
organisation responsible for several bombings around London over the past year. ‘I
hope so too.’
    Two hours later they passed through a low stone wall ringing the property, continuing
up a path to the front door.
    Mr Doyle motioned them to stop. ‘This door is ajar,’ he said. ‘We may be too late.’
    He pulled out his gun as they entered. A small antechamber lined with jackets and
hats opened out onto a living room with a fire burning in the corner. It was probably
cosy under normal circumstances, but now it felt sinister. Statues and African masks
filled the interior while the walls were plastered with sketches of ancient cities
and plans for old buildings. Mr Doyle placed a finger over his lips.
    Quiet .
    He pointed to a narrow staircase. Tiptoeing to the first floor, they heard a sound
like drawers being opened. A dissatisfied grunt came from within.
    Mr Doyle pushed the door wide. ‘It’s time we had a little talk.’
    The person on the other side of the desk was the same small, black-haired man Jack
had previously encountered. Now he wore a white coat and shoes. The contents of filing
cabinets and the bookcase had been emptied all over the floor. The man glanced at
them casually, his eyes narrowing.
    â€˜We have nothing to discuss.’ The man might have been small, but he had a surprisingly
deep voice. ‘The Broken Sun does not belong to you.’
    â€˜Nor does it belong to you,’ Mr Doyle said, waving the gun. ‘Do not take another
step.’
    â€˜Are you afraid?’ the