"All the usual tests indicate that these two items have been touched by divinity," she said, lifting the mask and comparing the two lines. "It's either something very obscure—even less known than the Mendacii—or it's something new. I'll keep looking, of course, but whatever this Wrack is, I fear I have no guidance on how to counter it."
"It—or this Dane—knew we'd finally found the trail, and cut their losses," Makepeace said. "The warning's likely to have come from the Fennington end, unless they're able to detect the presence of other god-touched. I'll keep looking into that."
"Right." Commander Delway packed the charred remains away. "Sightings of sphinxes. Been around longer than we realised, usually not seen in detail. Several smaller buildings whose destruction had been chalked to particularly bad windstorms linked to stories of flying monsters. One of particular note is an attack on Fennington's Melksham Estate Workshop. They lost an entire upper corner of a building—sounds like they thought it an attack from an industrial rival."
"And yet, presumably whoever wanted this Wrack to buy back the fulgite isn't having trouble holding on to it," Princess Leodhild said. "Either the sphinxes are under its control, or it has some means to prevent detection."
"I'm guessing the latter," Makepeace replied. "Pointless to buy what you can knock down walls and take. Anyone have anything else useful, things we're not spinning wheels on?"
"Pieces of a puzzle," Dama Bermondsley said. "It won't be long before we fit them together."
"One piece from a dozen puzzles is not going to get us a picture worth seeing. I'll catch up with you at Cheap Street, Delway."
This appeared to signal the meeting's end, with Delway, Bermondsley, and the self-effacing secretary, Finch, gathering up notes and making their farewells. Makepeace and the princesses stayed where they were: a secondary meeting was obviously standard procedure, so Rian also remained seated, and was entirely unsurprised when, after the door had closed, Makepeace shifted so he could look sourly at her.
"Time to stake you out, Wednesday, and see what comes looking for a snack."
Twenty-Six
"Should I bleat?" Rian asked. "Do you expect tigers? Or sphinxes?"
"Albans."
Makepeace managed to shift himself to a more upright position as he turned toward Princess Aerinndís and Princess Leodhild.
"I put both these Blairs under Command last night—it seemed worth the risk that they can resist me, given the apparent awareness of the Council's involvement. And two more tiresome examples of blameless lives lived well I have rarely had the misfortune to examine. They've an unfeigned devotion toward Alba, have no acquaintances called Dane, and are particularly pleased to have stumbled across Wednesday here. They've both been instructed to get closer to her."
"Who is instructing Lynsey?" Rian asked, surprised.
"Fennington. That, at least, was worth the time spent. Fennington's a closet Unionist—considerable donations. Seems to be for the sake of business—he's been trying to acquire Alban mining interests, and a united Albion would make that infinitely easier. The brother's technically doing Gustav's bidding, because there is no force in this world that will keep that Swede from poking his nose into things that have nothing to do with him, let alone something that he does have a real stake in. At any rate, I could find no air of guilt about the Blairs, which brings us back to Wednesday."
"They successfully lied to you, Comfrey? Overcame the Command?"
"I don't know, Hildy. If it's a resistance born of allegiance, it's not of a type I've encountered before. All their reactions read to me as genuine, so I want to manufacture a response in semi-controlled circumstances. Given the mounting number of parties involved, and stories already running about entire crates of fulgite, we have little time before this mess spins entirely out of hand."
"You want to bring out Mon- use the converted mannequin?" Rian asked.
"And play pat-a-cake with two sphinxes? No, rumour should be enough. You originally showed no sign of knowing anything about fulgite, but they've had their suspicions, they've searched what they could get to. Easy enough to stage a conversation so they'll believe you're personally carrying about a large, round piece of fulgite. Then see what they do to take it off you."
Rian considered this. "Shall I send the children away?"
Princess Leodhild shook her head. "If I was chasing something small and precious, I would most certainly check to see whether you'd sent it with them. And there are few places safer than Forest House. Most likely you will be lured from the house—by the Blairs or by someone who has been using them as a source of information."
Princess Aerinndís' husky voice forestalled Rian's response.
"This presumes that there is some fundamental need to gain one particular piece of stolen fulgite. Given the sums already exchanged, is this piece worth such risk?"
"Maybe not. In which case we will have wasted vital time following Wednesday about. But it is a particularly large crystal, and the pair given to the Tennings are the only round pieces that have come to light." Makepeace shrugged. "We could focus on the Romans instead, or try to convince Egypt to talk, but...yes, I think a little bleating will bring the best result."
"You suspected this Wrack had a truth-telling ability. Won't it be obvious to them that I'm trying to lure them into a trap?"
"You've gained allegiance since then—there's not many that could truth-tell me." His mouth flattened, perhaps reminded of what the change in Rian represented, but he turned the shift to provocative disdain: "Tiger got your stomach, Wednesday?"
"There is inevitably some risk to you," Princess Leodhild added. "Even with all the protections we can muster, we've already been furnished with a demonstration of how quickly they can strike."
"They apparently want to rob me, not kill me," Rian pointed out. "Besides, resolving this before the children can think of something else to investigate seems the wisest course."
"Then I'll set it in motion after seeing to this Roman driver. After that I'll be at Forest House, though you won't see me. Try not to be lured out during daylight."
"We're heading north to bring Tanwen up to date," Princess Leodhild said. "Do you want Dama Seaforth further tonight?"
Makepeace shook his head, then levered himself to his feet and left by the inner door, while the two Gwyn Lynns gestured Rian toward the shelf-concealed entrance. Princess Leodhild, not able to see in the dark, was assisted by her niece through the unlit museum, and let out her breath explosively as they reached the small garden
"I swear, one day I'm going to kick over some priceless artefact from Prytennia's past and then Bermie will have some fast talking to do." She smiled at Rian. "I'm not technically part of the Night Council, merely dragged in because of all that's going on at the moment. Have your three younglings recovered from their adventures?"
Before Rian could answer they were whisked effortlessly into the air: again the stag for Rian, but two transparent horses for the princesses. Only Aerinndís' had three tails, an observation that made Rian wonder whether the Night Breezes had any continuity of existence, whether particular hares and mice remembered whisking burning papers out of a fire, or fetching water. Did they simply cease to exist during the day, or go to Sulis' realm like the triskelion? Her stag certainly seemed to look about himself as if fully aware, and the lone hound in escort frisked with delight around the three larger winds.
They were travelling slowly, low enough above the old Roman walls of central London that people promenading along the city's most famous walk turned and exclaimed or bowed.
Princess Leodhild, entirely used to sudden transports, was smiling encouragingly as she waited for Rian's response, so Rian pulled together her poise and tried to pretend they were all three out for a ride. She should be able to stop herself from being distracted by the sweeping view. Or Princess Aerinndís, stern and glorious to her left.
"They're well enough, though I think there'll be a few nightmares tonight. The idea of being dragged under
ground isn't one any of them is liable to shrug off. Griff's my main worry, since his constitution isn't robust, and keeping him in bed requires a certain persistence."
"Getting one of mine out of bed is my challenge!" Princess Leodhild said, chuckling. "This must all be rather new to you, Dama Seaforth."
She meant children, not a slow gallop a foot above the Tamesas, or being catapulted into the inner circle of Prytennia's elite and very royal defences.
"Being a distant aunt was a great deal easier," Rian said, controlling a wry note. "Though I find I regret not knowing them better when I didn't need to try to function as a replacement parent."
"In your view, Dama Seaforth," Princess Aerinndís said, "would Gaius Silvanus Tarinus have intervened on behalf of three children who were not in your care?"
Rian didn't answer immediately, turning to look into the Crown Princess' face. Serious, unsmiling.
"I don't know," Rian said, frowning. "Felix was raised in an atmosphere of enormous expectation, and was forever being shuttled about doing things that must have been tremendously dull for a boy, all in preparation for a stellar future. By the time I knew him he'd become a very indirect person, and rarely shared his thoughts. But still, while I don't think he would go against Rome's interests lightly, killing three children—any three children—wouldn't have been a small thing for the boy I knew."
She paused as they whisked under Three Wings Bridge, for she could not help staring up at it. Could the Crown Princess be deliberately trying to make her gape? She had to know the effect she had on people, even without the Night Breezes.
"He must have been ordered to pretend to have gone back to Rome," she said, struggling to focus. "No wonder, with the papers full of that foreseeing. Ficus Lapis probably started to make arrangements to withdraw as soon as they read about it."
"The Unfinished Ones."
"Yes." Rian stole another glance, and was treated to the clean line of Aerinndís Gwyn Lynn's profile. "If they're important somehow to locating or producing fulgite, then Rome would want to get them to safety as soon as possible. And yet, unless Eluned surviving the attempt on her life counts as passing one of these challenges, they must still be in play, a present danger. Even if there is some vein of fulgite under London that's yet to be exhausted, why would they risk staying?"
Neither princess had an answer. Nor did Princess Leodhild make any attempt to dismiss or downplay what the foreseeing suggested. They returned Rian quietly to the attic at Forest House—not whisking her north to meet the Queen as she'd almost expected—and left her to contemplate being lured from safety by people she'd started to consider friends.
Twenty-Seven
"Evelyn?"
Lord Msrah's usually urbane Bound was fraying around the edges: his tunic creased, the hem of his shendy uneven.
"Arianne, I'm sorry to call so late in the afternoon. I was wondering if you had seen Lyle or Lynsey today?"
Rian looked past Evelyn to the car he had arrived in, blinked twice, then said: "No, I'm afraid not. Isn't Lynsey at Tangleways?"
"She came up for the day. We were to meet for lunch and, well, it's a long story. I'll—"
The passenger of the chauffeured tiger lowered a window, and thrust his leonine head through it.
"It is more no news, then?"
"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Evelyn said, ducking out of Forest House's vestibule. "Yes, they haven't been here."
"Who is that?" Eluned whispered, poking her head around the door. It had been too much to hope that the twins would wait quietly in the kitchen. Rian had felt it too dangerous to not tell the girls at least part of what was going on, and so they'd spent the day inspecting everyone she spoke to for signs of perfidy.
"Prince Gustav," Rian murmured as, after a brief exchange, the Swedish prince climbed out of the tiger. Very tall, very golden and, as Princess Leodhild had observed, lovely shoulders.
"Apologies I give, of course," he said, striding forward with snapping energy to grip Rian's hands, bowing over them briefly. "But there is no time for the niceties. My aide, and his most delightful sister, they did not bring to you the map? They did not invite you on the small adventure?"
"I haven't seen or heard from Lyle and Lynsey at all today," Rian said firmly.
"Map of where?" Eleri asked.
Gustav's momentum was broken as he looked from Eleri to Eluned. "The matched set?"
"My nieces, Your Highness," Rian said, trying to guess whether this was the lure, and then pushing the question at least briefly into the background. "Come in, please, both of you."
She herded them firmly to the kitchen, choosing it over the sitting room she usually used for visitors because she wanted the folies as close as possible. The girls had been setting the table, and Rian added two plates, guessing that Evelyn, at least, had not spared time from searching since his friends had failed to appear for lunch.
"Now, Evelyn, take a breath and tell me in order. Why did Lyle want to talk to me?"
"It is this, of course," Prince Gustav said, before Evelyn could speak.
The prince had discovered the collection of newspapers Rian had been studying, headlines all blaring their theories about crates of fulgite, and the destruction of the Burning Circle. Rian's day had primarily involved reading about the consequences of the children's adventures, and being 'not home' to the inevitable flood of reporters and would-be acquaintances wanting more. This had fortunately eased after lunch, so that Dama Seleny had been able to escape to her lessons.
The afternoon papers had brought new entertainments, with many pictures of the entrances to the partially constructed underground train tunnels. Fulgite was worth more than gold, and half London had reacted predictably to the possibility that it was lying about under their feet. The Courant featured a highly dramatic image of crowds pressing against hastily-erected barriers bolstered by a double line of police.
"Lyle joined the great fulgite hunt?" Rian asked.
"He investigated this at my instruction," Prince Gustav said, prowling about the end of the table. "He is one of great resource, not of this rabble."
"Lyle obtained a map of the projected rail system," Evelyn put in, "and said he had found an anomaly. He was planning to call on you, to confirm his theory."
"An anomaly?" Rian said. "What was it?"
"There is the problem!" Gustav said, spreading his hands. "He wished to check some detail, and perhaps to consult with you, and now we have no aide, and no direction."
"Try Griff's vampire tunnel map," Eleri said.
That produced a neat little pause.
"Need to wake him for dinner anyway."
"Try to keep him from running on the stairs," Rian said, and explained 'vampire tunnels' as the girl departed.
By the time Eleri returned with her brother, Rian had succeeded in coaxing the two men into sitting down, and had sent Eluned out with something for the waiting driver to eat.
Unsurprisingly, Griff arrived in a glow of excited gratification, and a voluminous flutter of paper. He unceremoniously pushed aside plates to spread out his annotated maps of London, with their different coloured lines cutting beneath the printed images of London's landmarks and houses.
"What did Lyle say exactly?" Rian asked.
"He sent me this," Evelyn said, producing a crumpled telegram.
ROUTES CANT BE COINCIDENCE STOP COULD USE YOUR EYES BRING OWN CHISEL MEET DUCIERS MIDDAY STOP LYNSEY AND I LOOKING FORWARD RUB YOUR NOSE IN FULGITE STOP LYLE
Rian eyed Griff's maps doubtfully. "Did Ficus Lapis choose the routes of the lines? I thought their role was coordinating the drilling and maintaining the machines."
"They performed the geologic survey, and advised on the best locations. No final say, but they certainly had a major impact."
"And the idea is they knew of a seam of fulgite beneath London, and made sure the tunnels went as close to it as possible? That would mean we're looking for anything odd to suggest they were trying to get as near as possible to a particul
ar point."
They all stared intently at the printed arrangement of streets, palaces, gardens, museums and groves. The coloured lines of the expected rail lines cut sharply beneath it all, sometimes curving, sometimes straight. Only a small amount in the centre was coloured blue to indicate that it had been completed.
It was Griff, of course, who jabbed a finger triumphantly on a line south of the river, saying: "Why does this curve so early? It would make more sense if it crossed through Southwark near Bridge Hospital. And this one up here—why not follow closer to the river?"
Eleri leaned forward and placed fingers on the far side of curves, covering up some particularly notable landmarks.
"London's two largest pyramids," Eluned said.
"Ha! I have it!" Gustav thumped the table in triumph, and the plates all leapt. "They mine under the pyramids. They are devices for focusing the power, are they not? Their form divine, to the point that even the god-touched of those not of Egypt find benefit. There is nothing surprising to learn the crystals of power would form in such environment."
"But if you dig too much under a pyramid you might destabilise it!" Griff said, horrified. "Ours aren't nearly as big as Egypt's older ones, but they still need solid foundations."
Rian sat down, working to hide how much she needed to. "There would be a need, an absolute need, for secrecy. They couldn't risk word leaking."
Her eyes were on Eluned and Eleri as she spoke, as they made the same connections she did, between forged people and pyramids, and stared at each other and then at her, and then firmly closed their mouths.
"Where was it you said you were going to meet for lunch, Evelyn?" Rian asked, wishing very much to know whether Makepeace really had spent the day lurking unseen and on guard, praying that he was listening now.
"Ducier's. It's—ah, I see!" He pointed to a spot directly between the Black Pyramid and the line of completed tunnel. "Right here."
The Pyramids of London Page 26
