The Pyramids of London

by Andrea K Höst

  It was a tiger, large, sleek and powerful, and Eluned was diverted into wondering if they were now rich enough to buy such an extravagance, and whether that meant they had been poor before. They hadn't owned any sort of autocarriage, back in Caerlleon, but they'd had a house, and people who looked after it, and though there'd always been a separation between necessities and indulgences, because money had been tied up in projects, Eluned could never remember truly feeling conscious of it before.

  Losing the house was a major reason for that, but it was more that Aunt Arianne still seemed to expect them to keep track of how much things cost, even after sorting through a safe full of treasures, and unflinchingly buying them vast piles of clothing.

  Working to put money and nerves aside, Eluned reminded herself this visit was a privilege, and she had particularly wanted to see the next place on their 'tour', an egg-shaped courtyard surrounded by arched windows and a triumph of carved linework.

  This, at least, allowed Eluned to forget other concerns. She'd always been proud that her own grandmother had been among the artists called upon during the construction of Gwyn Lynn Palace, but it was the Running Yard she'd most wanted to see. The walls above and between each and every arch were filled with knotted depictions of the Otherworldly beings the Suleviae, by Sulis' grace, commanded. The three dragons, Nimelleth, Dulethar and Athian, the Night Breezes, and the triskelion. Fabulous. The kind of balance of form and pattern Eluned longed to achieve.

  "The two islands are officially called Thurin and Aliden," their guide was saying, "but, of course, everyone calls them the Bean and the Bonnet because of their shapes, like we call this the Egg instead of the Running Yard. There are over seven hundred rooms in the main part of the palace, which fills the Bean completely. The Bonnet, Aliden, is the smaller island, but will look more spacious because the royal residences are widely spaced around gardens. This way, damini."

  Patient with their gawping, the page coaxed them past the tiger, waiting with its driver, through an open doorway in the northwest curve of the 'Egg', and into a large, dome-ceilinged room with many exits, the most notable flanked by two very impressive guards wearing both swords and pistols. The walls between were hung with paintings, and the room itself busy with groups of people coming and going.

  "The Crossing Gallery," the page said, as Aunt Arianne took her hat and veil off. "The only dry way to reach the residences without a boat—or wings. Let me hold that for you, dama."

  Aunt Arianne smiled her thanks, and they paused to study the paintings until Aunt Arianne discovered a mirror set between two enormous landscapes and said: "Is there somewhere I can tidy my hair?"

  "Of course, dama—" the page began, but broke off as one of a pair of men heading toward the Egg stopped short.

  "Rian?" he said, voice high with surprise. Aunt Arianne turned, and he looked startled, then held up his hands in apology, continuing in heavily accented Prytennian: "Ah, pardon. It is my error..."

  Aunt Arianne, after a moment's pause, smiled. "You've changed far more than I, Felix."

  Eluned, who prided herself on her Latin, was disappointed to barely be able to make out more than a handful of words in the exchange that followed, though it was easy enough to guess that a large part of it involved: "You look so young!" The man himself only seemed to be in his twenties, his companion a good deal older, and the pair of them almost stereotypically Roman in appearance, with curling dark hair and impressive noses. Like most non-Prytennian men, they weren't wearing a summer shendy at all, only short, sleeveless tunics belted over tight-fitting shirts and trousers, with some rather nice patterns to the cloth.

  "But, no, I have learned it with great effort," the man said, switching back to Prytennian. "Diligently, if not well." The older man with him murmured something, and he grimaced. "I must go. But I will call on you, and we will to lunch." He took Aunt Arianne's hands then, adding: "I was sorry, to hear what happened. That was badly done."

  "An object lesson," Aunt Arianne said, with her faint, amused smile. "Good afternoon, Felix."

  The Roman man kissed her hands, which made Aunt Arianne raise her eyebrows, and then the page was leading them to discreet rooms where they could primp before meeting Princess Leodhild.

  "Used to court him?" Eleri asked, as Aunt Arianne slipped a comb out of her daybelt.

  "Given he was all of twelve last time we met, no," Aunt Arianne said. "He's a cousin of the Dacian Proconsul, and is apparently in Prytennia with the company assisting the underground railway's construction. Not at all what I thought he'd end up doing."

  Eluned watched with interest as their aunt swiftly let down and recoiled her butter-brown hair, settling it back into the heavy knot she liked to wear at the nape of her neck. Eluned's own hair, kept short for convenience's sake, was easily smoothed.

  "In charge of digging automata?" Eleri asked, pursuing her own interests.

  "Possibly," Aunt Arianne said, as they returned outside to find Griff plumped down on the corridor floor sketching the view into the Gallery. "I'll ask, if I do see him again."

  After Griff was persuaded to stand, the brightly interested page led them back into the Crossing Gallery, past the attentive guards, and onto a covered bridge, a short arch of pale stone.

  "The Glass Channel," the girl said, as they gazed down the lightly curving corridor formed by two rows of windows, the buildings of both islands deliberately constructed to mirror each other. "During winter the water freezes, and on some days at sunset the whole thing turns pink and red."

  A short, well-built man stepped onto the bridge from Aliden Island. "Danel, Her Highness will be waiting for her guests."

  Starting, the page fished a watch from inside the waistband of her shendy, and bit her lip. Although they'd arrived well ahead of their afternoon appointment purely so they could linger over their trip through the palace, they had somehow taken a long time seeing very little.

  "This way, damini," the man went on, and they followed him obediently down an arched corridor.

  The royal residences were technically three separate buildings arranged in a triangle, but the residences of Sulevia Leoth and Sulevia Seolfor were joined together by the rooms that sat along the bank of the Glass Channel. The braided tower belonging to Sulevia Sceadu was more distinctly separate, its square base joined to the others only by covered walkways. Beyond the tower were trees, and ivy-covered walls, and in between the three residences were shrubs and massed flower beds, and a central pavilion that reminded Eluned distinctly of the roofless ruin at Hurlstone. It was in the pavilion that Princess Leodhild waited.

  There were no covered walkways to this central point, so the page, Danel, handed Aunt Arianne her hat back. While her Aunt rearranged it, Eluned took several calming breaths. Although she had knelt before Cernunnos himself only a few days ago, that did not make it any less amazing to meet one of the three living avatars of Prytennia's sun goddess. A week ago the idea of an informal chat with the Sulevia of the Song, commander of the triskelion, would have been outright unbelievable, but this had somehow become their life. Gods, vampires, royalty.

  And yet, the princess didn't seem like she was waiting for them at all. There was a table set in the middle of the pavilion, and the princess was intently studying wide sheets of paper spread all over it. When the sound of their approach caught her attention she looked up at them quite blankly. But then she smiled.

  "I've forgotten my schedule," she said. "Sit down, do, and let me look at you. Benric, send someone to clear away this mess and bring us something nice."

  Princess Leodhild's grandfather had been Nubian, and she certainly lived up to the fabled vigour of that people. Eluned had rarely seen anyone more vibrantly alive, even though she was older than Aunt Arianne, with three children of her own. But, of course, she was a living avatar of Sulis herself, one of Three Who Are One.

  Dismissing their attempts to bow to her, Princess Leodhild apologised instead for forgetting that Aunt Arianne might have difficulties with the
location, and then Griff and Eleri got a look at what was on the table, and any hope of maintaining proper decorum was entirely lost.

  "The vampire tunnels!" Griff crowed, and thrust head and shoulders over the table to study the diagram the princess had before her. "They are digging south of the river already!"

  "Just survey digging," the princess said, thankfully not affronted. "You think vampires are digging tunnels?"

  "To get about during the day."

  "Not very cost-effective. A well-curtained carriage and a quick dash for the door have been working well enough for millennia. Tunnels would be an extravagance."

  Eleri, in the meantime, had drawn out one curling sheet that had been pushed toward the back of the table, and was studying it minutely. It was a flying machine, one quite unlike the lumbering dirigibles that ruled the skies. Eleri, being Eleri, found a pencil on the table and began making alterations.

  "Your pardon, highness," Aunt Arianne said. "I fear I overestimated this pair's base level of courtesy."

  Her voice was as light as ever, but Griff straightened apologetically and Eleri at least glanced up.

  Princess Leodhild waved an indifferent hand. "No matter: I rarely stand on ceremony. And I suspect them to merely be complimenting my character. You feel you have found a flaw in the design, youngling?"

  "Only a suggestion." Eleri put the pencil down, and then offered the sheet to the princess, as if being marked on a test.

  Glancing down, Princess Leodhild said: "I'll pass it on to Minister Trevelyan. I'm sure she'll appreciate the feedback."

  There was no note of sarcasm to the words, and the princess saw them settled on cushioned seats before plying Eleri with questions about the process of adapting their grandfather's old mannequin into an automaton. Griff immediately began to sketch the surrounding buildings, but Eluned hated to even look at the garden. Created by the Queen's Consort, it was said to be an exquisite jewel, but currently shared with much of Prytennia a sadly wind-burned condition.

  Peering instead at a small pile of new-looking books on the table, she found fearfully dull titles like The Principles of Ma'at and Prytennia's Concept of Justice, and The Role of Auguries in Roman Decision-Making. There was one, Allegiance: Born, Territorial, Bestowed, Taken, that made her hand itch again, reminding her that Cernunnos now had a claim to her soul, but then a whole line of people arrived, and took the entire table away, replacing it with a fresh one that was rapidly filled with glasses of watermelon juice, and tiny sandwiches, cakes and ices, vivid and sweet and wonderfully cold on a hot summer afternoon.

  Princess Leodhild kept them talking, asking questions about their parents, and their studies, and Forest House. She even knew about the visit from the dryw of the Order of the Oak, and what he'd said, though she shrugged off attempts to interpret the Speaking.

  "Such a ridiculously vague collection of words. He might as well have recited his grocery list to you. There's sure to be a great deal of fuss, but other than, perhaps, avoiding things with four eyes—or whatever you interpret a quartered glance as—I'd recommend just getting on with life. Put your energy to the task at hand rather than second-guessing the significance of anything so imprecise."

  "I fear it's not our attitude that's going to be the problem," Aunt Arianne said.

  "Yes. That storm will break today, which makes the timing of this meeting fortuitous, though it's a pity Tanwen is away walking Nimelleth's spine. But Our attitude will be positive, and it will give people something to talk of other than wind. And Egyptians." Princess Leodhild shrugged, setting her curls bouncing. "The scrutiny may be uncomfortable, especially since you have such a romantic background. Do you paint or sculpt yourself?"

  Aunt Arianne shook her head. "My parents gave me a great deal of training, but I had neither the talent nor the passion."

  During that first busy afternoon at Forest House, Eluned had heard her aunt answer almost the exact same way at least twice, and wondered how she managed to sound so unconcerned. Eluned could readily imagine the crawly little feeling of failure that would come each and every time she had to make the admission. At least Princess Leodhild didn't respond with the flat 'oh' of those earlier questioners.

  Griff tucked himself into Eluned's side. Recognising this reaction, she looked about, and spotted the cause in the arms of a tall boy leading three girls from one of the residences.

  Although Eluned had only ever seen a few grainy and distant photographs of them in the newspapers, it was impossible not to recognise these newcomers: Princess Leodhild's three children, and Queen Tanwen's younger daughter, Princess Celestine.

  "Sorry, mother," the boy said. "I don't think this can wait."

  Prince Luc was a rarity: a son of one of the Suleviae, born before Princess Leodhild had ascended. He was thin, had skin, hair and eyes in similar tones of light brown, and was said to be a very quiet person. The animal he carried was far more distinctive: a puppy, white all over except for long, silky red ears.

  "Has Arawn been visiting?" Princess Leodhild asked, but she frowned as she joked, for the King of the Dead came to the living world only in times of great need, or to hunt the spirits of the lingering dead. And it would be a remarkable thing, a doom-tiding, to leave one of his hounds, the Cŵn Annwn, behind.

  "It was one of the Tuatha Dé Danaan, Mother," said the tallest of the girls. This would be Princess Iona, who had her mother's generous tumble of curls. "Walked in on us from nowhere, and said this was a birthday present for Cele."

  "And I would like him back, if you please," said the next-tallest girl, whose hair was very long and straight and dark. "Luc, you had no right to take him."

  Eluned had to work very hard not to stare impolitely, for Princess Celestine was reputedly the daughter of a dragon, and thus naturally the most interesting person who could possibly interrupt afternoon tea. The history behind her birth was one of Prytennia's greatest love stories—or grandest hoaxes.

  "Named him Falinis, too," Princess Iona said. "Have we done something to upset the Tuatha Dé?"

  Princess Leodhild held out her arms, and Prince Luc handed the puppy over. The animal, obviously still very young, tolerated the transfer placidly, and briefly raised his slender head to consider his new custodian.

  "A fortnight ago an Alban-bound airship was caught by the windstorms and blown right over Danuin's mist wall," Princess Leodhild said. "This may well be a pointed comment."

  "Showing that they can easily reach us, if we repeat the error?" Princess Iona stretched out her hand to allow the puppy to scent the back of her fingers, which he did with a grave dignity. "May I have permission to carry a weapon to lessons?"

  "Not in this century," Princess Leodhild said, then added: "Dimity!"

  ~I i EE!~

  A whirling pinwheel of blue and white popped into existence, and Eluned cast a brief, delighted glance at Eleri, then drank in this up-close encounter with the most famed of the Suleviae's creatures. The triskelion were completely Otherworldly, lacking mouths, or eyes, or anything but their wings. Their name meant 'three legged', for during pitched battle they had been known to roll along the ground. This one was tiny, its 'voice'—a sound generated by its spinning—high and bright.

  "Ask Mi Jiang if he would please come here," Princess Leodhild said.

  ~I i EE!~ the triskelion hummed, and vanished.

  "Sorry for crashing in, incidentally, and towering all over the place," Princess Iona said, snagging a marzipan-iced cake as she turned to examine her mother's guests. "Everyone, let's sit down. I'm Iona, but you probably guessed that."

  Princess Leodhild tsked. "Execrable child. But this is someone I should introduce you to anyway: Dama Arianne Seaforth, the new Keeper of the Deep Grove."

  Princess Iona had bitten off half of her cake, and swallowed it in an unwieldy gulp. "You're Comfrey's accident?"

  "Our connection certainly wasn't deliberate," Aunt Arianne said. "These are my nieces, Eluned and Eleri. I'd introduce my nephew, Griff, as well, but he seems
to have escaped with most impressive speed."

  Horrified, Eluned looked about, but it was true. Griff was gone.

  Fourteen

  "Shy around strangers?" Princess Iona asked.

  "I suspect it's the puppy." Aunt Arianne was matter-of-fact.

  Straightening indignantly, Princess Celestine said: "How could anyone be afraid of something as tiny as Falinis?"

  "Tiny?" Princess Iona selected another sweet treat and gestured with it toward her mother and the docile puppy. "Look at the size of those paws. He's going to be enormous. And that's not even counting his death-hound colouring, and being named for…what was it Luc? High King Lugh's invincible hunting hound? The nephew's got good sense, keeping clear."

  "He doesn't like animals," Eluned said, uncomfortably. "He never has, ever since he was a baby."

  "Bitten by something?" Princess Iona slowed her cake consumption in order to make a long study of Eluned's right arm.

  Princess Leodhild gave her eldest daughter a quelling look, then said: "Toroco!"

  A second triskelion, this one red and gold and perhaps a handbreadth larger, popped into being. ~O o O!~

  "Round up a stray boy-child," Princess Leodhild said. "Match this hair colour."

  She nodded at Aunt Arianne, who sat very still as the triskelion—its movements very like a hummingbird—darted toward her, bringing with it a wave of warmth. The triskelion were true creatures of the sun, and the mere presence of the largest could inflict terrible burns. Even the small ones were not something you wanted near your hair.

  Then it was gone, trailing its song as it whirled across the gardens, and passing on its way its blue and white fellow leading a tall, thin man who could be none other than the Queen's Consort, Mi Jiang.

  His was a famous story. In the earliest days of airship travel, before she became Sulevia Seolfor and Queen, Tanwen Gwyn Lynn had led the crew of the Palthas on a grand flight all the way around the world, to prove that it was possible. The Palthas had flown close to the Dragon Empire of Yue—a realm like Danuin surrounded by walls to prevent trespass, although Yue used light instead of mist. A flight of young Yue dragons had met and briefly escorted the airship, and one of them had seen then-Princess Tanwen and loved her from that moment.