Eluned had enjoyed several rather fanciful books about Prince Jiang's quest to find out who his love was, the many years it had taken to win his father's permission to follow her, and the astonishment felt by all Prytennia when it had received an embassy from such a fabled and magnificent land, presenting the now-Queen with one of the sons of the Emperor of Yue, as a gift.
Had the Tuatha Dé been deliberately echoing this story, giving Princess Celestine a pup with a famous name and exceedingly unlucky colouring? For, while Queen Tanwen had accepted Mi Jiang as a guest, and eventually taken him as a lover, he had never shown any sign of being a dragon. Some said that his father had forbidden him his true shape as the price for pursuing his heart, but there had long been talk that the 'gift' was instead an elaborate insult, vengeance for an airship flying too close to well-guarded borders. That the Emperor of Yue had sent not his son, but his gardener.
Eluned couldn't guess what the truth was, or even if Queen Tanwen cared either way, for Prince Jiang was an extraordinarily beautiful man: elegant, dark eyed, with a fall of silken blue-black hair that he had passed on to his daughter. And such ineffable presence, as he stepped into the pavilion and inclined his head to Princess Leodhild, that Eluned wished desperately to have never heard such phrases as 'Hoozie Fake', and the other even less nice things said about the Queen's consort.
"A fair afternoon to you," he said, arresting their motion to rise with the tiniest movement of his hand. "How may I assist?"
Princess Leodhild briefly explained, and carefully handed the puppy over. Falinis again raised his head, making Eluned feel as if the puppy had understood every word said, and was politely making eye contact.
"By no means an ordinary animal," Prince Jiang said. "But not on first examination inimical. Instead, this seems to be a true gift, a valuable companion. You wish for him, then, child?"
"Very much, Father." Princess Celestine's response was restrained and measured, all sign of her previous restlessness smoothed away. "There are strings, I am sure, or at least mischief intended. But I will not hold his marking against him." She hesitated, and her careful formality fell away as she exclaimed: "It would hurt him."
"Then I have no objection," Prince Jiang said, and smiled at the effervescent delight his daughter attempted to contain, before inclining his head again to Princess Leodhild. "Forgive me, I must return. My staff are enjoying a minor crisis."
With the ceremony that seemed imbued in his every action, Prince Jiang handed Falinis to his daughter and departed. The blue and white triskelion ceased whirling around the ceiling of the pavilion and dropped down to ~I i EE?~ at its mistress. It was joined by its red and gold companion, whirling up with an ~O o O!~ that by its very tone announced success.
Eluned's relief as she looked around for her brother faltered immediately when she spotted him on the path to the tower belonging to the Sulevia Sceadu, talking animatedly to a striking woman with pale skin and wavy dark hair. It could only be Crown Princess Aerinndís.
Working to hide her dismay, Eluned glanced at Eleri, but her sister hadn't yet noticed the approaching pair. Princess Aerinndís had a forbidding reputation, and was not smiling as she listened to Griff burble on—no doubt telling her all about her own tower, and the unusual gaps left in a structure that looked as if it had been braided rather than built.
Aunt Arianne stood up, and Eluned surreptitiously tugged Eleri to join them in making their bows. Princess Leodhild may have abandoned formality, but Princess Aerinndís did not seem so disposed, studying them expressionlessly before inclining her head a bare fraction in acknowledgement.
"My apologies, Highness," Aunt Arianne said, after Princess Leodhild had made brief introductions. "I was not paying enough attention."
"No matter." Princess Aerinndís' husky voice held a note of indifference. "Our mutual acquaintance has presented himself for a conference."
"Comfrey's here?" Princess Iona was not at all awed by her older cousin's glance. "Can you send him to us when you're finished with him? Tete wants him."
Tete—Princess Tethané—hadn't spoken at all. She was Griff's age, and was considered a not very 'satisfactory' princess. Rumour had it she couldn't talk at all, and had to be carefully controlled, but all Eluned could tell of her beneath the floppy yellow sun hat hanging over her eyes was that her hair was cloudy like Melly's.
"Perhaps you younglings would enjoy a small performance while we see what Comfrey has to say?" Princess Leodhild asked, then added to Griff: "Or would you find that uncomfortable?"
Griff, who had been subdued once again by the near presence of a chancy animal, looked from puppy to the triskelion whirring above, and fascination won over caution. "I'd like that awfully much, thank you."
They were being tidied away, but Eluned was no more minded to object to the distraction than Griff. Though she could not understand Eleri following along without a word as Princess Iona led them toward the Sulevia Leoth's residence, the two triskelion in warm escort, Princess Celestine dancing ahead, hugging her puppy close, and Prince Luc and Princess Tethané bringing up the rear.
"Sorry," Eluned said, stepping uncomfortably into the role of spokesperson as Griff positioned himself by her side to watch for puppy attacks. "We're interrupting you now."
"No, this is perfect," Princess Iona said. "We were due to go to afternoon lessons, and that tutor is so dreary. Your arm looks very complicated. What can you do with it?"
Prince Luc said quietly: "Not a performing animal, Io."
Princess Iona pulled a face at her brother, then said:
"My mouth does run along by itself sometimes, and I say positively awful things. Then Luc points it out to me. Was I being obnoxious?"
"It's all right," Eluned said, glancing worriedly at her sister, since it was rare for Eleri not to intervene during such questions. That was how their family worked: Eluned and Eleri would shield Griff from animals, Eleri and Griff would deflect noxious curiosity, and Griff and Eluned would keep Eleri from killing herself during her inventive streaks, when common sense tended to desert her.
It had to be the plans for that flier: Eleri's imagination had been sparked, and she was lost to anything but possibility. Reluctantly accepting that she was on her own so far as conversation was concerned, Eluned offered a brief demonstration of how she could control her right elbow by lifting her shoulder, and could trigger her hand functions with her left elbow, using switches on the harness beneath her clothing.
"But what happens when you shrug?"
"Embarrassment, usually. I try to only use my left shoulder for that, or I get some odd flailings."
"Is it strong? Can you bend metal? Stop a rampaging horse?"
"The mechanism's too delicate. And it's still attached to the non-mechanical bits of me, which would not stop any horses."
"How did you lose your arm?" Princess Celestine asked, drifting closer. "A birth injury?"
People rarely asked directly. These children of the Suleviae were clearly used to people competing for their attention, willing to tell them anything. Their curiosity at least seemed straightforward, not weighed down by globbish pity, but this was a story that Eluned hated to tell. And yet Eleri was still silent, not even noticing when Eluned threw her an urgent glance. There was nothing for it.
With a firm grip on her glass shield, she began: "There was a kitten."
"One of the folies?" Prince Luc asked unexpectedly.
"The folies?" Eluned turned to stare. "What do you mean?"
"The guardians of the Deep Grove. Foliate cats."
Griff roused to say: "Those are cats? They look like little round bushes."
"That's what the records say."
"Little round bushes with cats inside, it seems," Princess Iona said. "But if Dama Seaforth's family has only recently come to Forest House, it's not likely to be folies. And you tut at me for interrupting people unnecessarily, Luc. So there was a kitten. And then?"
The idea of those clusters of leaves being cats was not
enough to distract Eluned from the difficulty of her story, but it did make the shield a little lighter, and so she went on, pacing her breathing.
"We weren't allowed to keep him, but did. We called him Jasper, and we had him for two months without our parents ever realising. But he hated being shut up, and loved exploring, climbing, and one day he climbed through the ventilation window of the main workroom. I saw him go in, but the door was locked and the red flag up, which meant there was a timing test running. I could hear the machine."
"I'm guessing your family are automaton makers?" Princess Iona said.
Eluned could not approach the difference between 'are' and 'were', so ignored the question.
"I knew where the key was, and as I ran for it I could hear the engine stop, and then start up again as I returned. Most automatons run on cams or on sequence cards that control their movements. Sequence cards can be chained together, and the chain made into a loop, so that the automaton will run continuously. In a timing test for a processing automaton, you leave the automaton running without materials, to test whether the sequence stays true.
"The movement had paused when I used the key. I threw the door open, and that frightened Jasper, and of course he ran right into the workings, and I wasn't sure what part of the sequence it was up to, so all I could think to do was run and grab him. And the machine started."
No-one spoke. Eluned was remembering the feeling of fur beneath her fingers. Whenever she thought too much about what it had been like to have two arms of flesh and bone, she could feel Jasper's soft black fur, and see his brilliant blue eyes.
"Only five. Would know now to pull the cards, or the fulgite."
Eluned threw Eleri a look of relief and gratitude, but her sister's gaze was not on her.
They entered a domed playroom—such a delightful construction that Griff forgot puppies altogether and stopped dead in the doorway to drink in an elegant metal framework, and the triangular panels of window alternating with a ceiling painted dark blue and flecked with stars.
"Steel structure?" he said. "This isn't in the original plans."
"Mother had it added," Princess Iona said, continuing on to an island of mats and cushions hiding the centre of a splendid parquetry star. "For Dimmy more than us, I tend to think. Dimmy loves the way her song echoes."
~I i EE!~
The blue and white triskelion whirled down to circle around Princess Iona, then shot up to the very highest point of the dome, the volume of its song rising as it did until a high, sweet note pierced Eluned like a needle. She shuddered, then felt a touch on her left hand. Princess Tete, face still obscured, tugged at her fingers, the briefest contact, before following her sister into the centre of the dome.
"It's easier to take if you lie down," Prince Luc said and, with a ready understanding of Griff's competing interests, guided him to the far side of the island from where Princess Celestine had folded herself cross-legged on a cushion with Falinis on her lap.
Eluned, following her sister to the centre of the pile, took the opportunity to murmur: "All right, Eleri?"
It seemed a brief nod would be the only response she was to receive, but then Eleri leaned in and added: "Never met anyone so incredible."
This was such an un-Eleri thing to say that Eluned at first couldn't take it in, and turned the whole of her attention to the problem of formal clothing and proper decorum. Did one simply settle on a particularly wide and squashy cushion and treat royal heirs as new acquaintances? There was nothing to do but try not to look too stiff about it.
But it was impossible to ignore Eleri's words longer. 'Incredible' was not a word Eleri used for people, even the scientists she most admired. Did she mean one of the Suleviae? Or their children?
Princess Iona plumped back on another central cushion, her springing curls tickling Eluned's ear. "Luc, Tete, Cele, you do Toroco. Everyone else can do Dimmy."
Had Eleri meant Iona? That sheer confidence, and full force personality? Or...Eluned turned her head and considered Prince Luc, who was possibly as handsome as the papers said, in his reserved way. He glanced in her direction, and smiled encouragingly, and Eluned looked hastily away, then cursed herself because now he would think she liked him. But she supposed he was used to that.
The two triskelion, their song muted, slowed to hover directly above them, sending a faint, warm wind down onto their faces. Then the red and gold, Toroco, sang its name, but drew each syllable out to produce a long ~OOOOOOO oooooo OOOOOOO~, and the three designated Gwyn Lynns, a fraction of a note behind, sang along with it.
Eluned's chest throbbed again, and she shot a wide-eyed glance at her sister, but Eleri's head was turned away. Toward Princess Celestine.
Celestine? Eluned couldn't understand it. Fine-boned, and a little taller than Eluned and Eleri, Celestine she had her father's long fall of straight, black hair, and exceptionally nice, clear skin. And...she had seemed to like her new pet? Attractive, yes, and with a fascinating parentage, but 'incredible'?
Deciding she was misunderstanding something, Eluned turned her attention back to the dome above as Dimity blurred in a series of sidewise darts before settling above them again to sing its name. It was impossible to match the high, ethereal notes, but Eluned at least managed to keep her pitch true, and she took a deep breath after, wondering if she could truly feel the triskelion's reaction. Everyone spoke of the joy of the Solstice Singing, but she'd had no idea it would be so intense.
Then the two triskelion sang at the same time, spiralling together along with the notes of their names, and they all sang back, even Eleri and Princess Tethané, who had a sweet, true voice, deep for such a small girl.
It was easier after that, to set aside the confusion of Eleri, and the memory of soft fur, and the discomfort of being thrust on prestigious strangers to entertain. The triskelion made all the difference. They could do nothing but spin, and speed or slow their song, but their delight was a second sun. Creatures of Sulis, sky-born, wind-hearted, completely different from her own human existence, present thanks to the tie of full allegiance between Sulis and the Suleviae.
Her hand itched.
Fifteen
Prytennia's Crown Princess had a reputation for being unsociable, and her official photographic portrait certainly seemed to show a stern and uncompromising young woman. After a less than successful State visit the Dauphin had even taken to calling her 'La poupée d'acier': the Steel Doll.
That piece of mockery in no way suited Aerinndís Gwyn Lynn on a warm summer afternoon, wearing the lightest of Continental frocks and with her waist-length hair unbound. While not so deliciously tall as Lynsey Blair, she still had several inches on Rian, and seemingly endless legs. Her mouth—wide and generous, but with an upward crimp in her lower lip—might give her an air of being permanently unimpressed, but automaton-like she most certainly was not.
Rian stole appreciative glances, but during the short walk to the princess' tower she set aside formidable distraction and refocused on goals. There were immense advantages in the Suleviae becoming involved in the investigation, particularly Princess Aerinndís. As the Sulevia Sceadu, the Crown Princess commanded 'the Night Breezes': a very mild name for one of Prytennia's main defences—and sources of information-gathering.
Hoping Griff had not been too inconsiderate in his explorations, Rian followed the princess to her tower's central stair, and was not surprised to be led downwards. She knew his heartbeat now, the vampire whose blood she shared. There was a certain resonance as well, not entirely pleasant. Part of herself, sitting before her.
Or, in Makepeace's case, lying sprawled on an oval table, reading a newspaper.
He was dressed as he had been when she'd first seen him, in a casual wrapped shendy and a worn shirt lacking its laces. The formal clothing of the other day must have been on Cernunnos' account. Perhaps Makepeace—with a millennia supporting Suleviae rule behind him—offered the Gwyn Lynns the same disdain he spread so liberally elsewhere.
Princess L
eodhild and Princess Aerinndís, with barely a pause, gripped one side of the table and tilted it, sending the ancient puppet master and assassin sliding. Makepeace made no effort to arrest his fall, landing on two chairs, which clattered hard to the polished wooden floor.
The vampire folded his paper as he lay in the tangle. "You'll damage the furniture."
"No matter. You can cover the repairs." Princess Leodhild settled herself at one end of the now-righted table, opposite Princess Aerinndís. "Or you could keep your feet—and the rest of you—off the table, Comfrey."
He responded by reaching up and placing the paper where they could see it. An early evening edition, only a portion of the headline visible, but more than enough.
"Make the effort to send word, Wednesday, should any other events of interest occur in your presence. A minor declaration of war, perhaps, or trivial invasion."
Rian, adjusting her thoughts to the unexpected family atmosphere, sat down on her vampire's opposite.
"You neglected to furnish me with an address."
"I'm always contactable through the palace."
"Is the common post not read? Shall I invent a code?"
He shot her an irritated glance as he levered himself to his feet and recovered the chairs. "This latest excursion of yours is hardly secret." But he waved the discussion away. "Any other developments?"
Rian described the visit of Lynsey Blair, the Alban woman's connection to Lord Fennington, and the proposed trip to Tangleways.
"Folly does fund research into fulgite alternatives," Princess Leodhild remarked. "His company led the development of those roof-mounted turbines, you know, and the conversion of existing water- and windmills to fulquus generation. Whether he'd need to outsource is another question. Are you proposing to question him directly about this secret commission?"
The Pyramids of London Page 15
