Андреа Хёст - The Pyramids of London

“I don’t think these monsters are chasing me about. I think they’re chasing that.”

She dropped it into his hand, and there was an odd quiet moment as Dem Makepeace simply sat there, the fulgite resting in the palm of his hand. The whole room felt strangely more focused, as if an unexpected light had flickered into life.

Then the stillness passed, and he put the fulgite on the table and said: “You were surprised when you touched this. Why?”

“I could hear a noise. Distant and strange. I thought it was wind at first, but…”

Aunt Arianne shook her head, eyeing the fulgite as if she expected it to move. Dem Makepeace put out one finger and pushed the crystal lightly, so that it rolled a couple of inches before curving to one side around the nub that stopped it from being a perfect sphere.

“Whether this is the target, or you are, the decision to put you here seems to have been a good one,” he said, suddenly brisk. “Fit that back into your toy, and we’ll see how much of the Keeper role I’m handing over to you.”

“So there’s more to it than letting people into the Grove?” Aunt Arianne asked, as Eleri moved to obey.

“Not necessarily. But I can’t simply give you the key, and Cernunnos often rejects, and has been known to strike down particularly unworthy petitioners.” He offered Aunt Arianne a provoking sort of smile. “If you don’t consider yourself equal to the risk, you can use the house and the Keeper’s income until I find someone to truly act in the role.”

Aunt Arianne gave no hint of being daunted. “Do you consider yourself equal to three able assistants?”

He glanced at Eluned, Eleri and Griff. They stared back at him, and though there was no reason whatsoever for him to replace Aunt Arianne as guardian if something happened to her, they all pictured it, and no-one looked pleased.

Then Dem Makepeace shrugged irritably. “The danger’s probably only significant if you should be, say, a disguised Roman with a pocket full of curse tablets,” he admitted. “There’s a good chance of being ignored, though.”

“Then by all means let us resolve that question. But first a few of my own.”

While they tidied away dinner, Aunt Arianne asked more about being Keeper. Having settled whether she would be able to come and go from Forest House as much as she liked, and who she was obliged to let in, she said:

“Lord Msrah recognised that sphinx. Did you?”

Still busy propping up his chin, Dem Makepeace said: “Any vampire who has made the Century Passage knows those sphinxes.”

“Century Passage?” Griff turned from picking at one of the covered dishes. “That’s the pilgrimage vampires make to Egypt?”

“Pilgrimage is a very poor word. It’s a compulsion. After a century carrying stone blood, Hatshepsu’s control asserts itself. You’re called to the Djeser-Djeseru, Hatshepsu’s temple at Thebes. If you don’t go present yourself, there’s all sorts of increasingly debilitating consequences.”

“Even though she’s been stone for centuries?”

“Even though. Patmahset doesn’t admit to making the call on his Pharaoh’s behalf, but since the jot isn’t paid until after the Century Passage, he has a rather large motive for ensuring it happens.”

Patmahset was the Nesweth—the king of Egypt—and the oldest known living vampire, raised not long before Hatshepsu went to stone. Technically Hatshepsu was still ruler—called Pharaoh in much the same way Prytennian people talked about “the Crown”—because Egyptians had a second life before they reached their Otherworld. But there was a lot of argument about whether Hatshepsu would have passed through that stage by now, and either become a god or gone to the Field of Rushes. She certainly hadn’t Answered.

“Do you think the Nesweth sent the sphinxes?” Eluned asked.

“They’re not his to send. The two sphinxes who turned up at Sheerside are the ones that guard the passage to Hatshepsu’s receiving chamber. There’s plenty of sphinxes at Hatshepsu’s temple, but that pair are distinct—both smaller than the ones lining the entry avenue, and with those enamelled wings. And the breasts,” he added, dryly. “Being within reach, they’ve achieved quite a gloss over the last millennia or so.”

“Can all Egypt’s sphinxes come to life?” Griff was agog. “Are they like the clay guards of Judah?”

“They’re not known for it. But that pair were dedicated as shabti. Those are servants given to the soul for use when it reaches the Field of Rushes. Not that I’ve ever seen any shabti moving before, either, but in theory they carry out physical tasks in the Otherworld on behalf of the Third Life.”

“You believe Hatshepsu herself sent those sphinxes—and the windstorms—to Prytennia? To chase pieces of fulgite?” Aunt Arianne sounded outright incredulous.

“I find shabti stirring from the tombs to chase fulgite that might control automatons…a ridiculous muddle. But dangerous in possible consequences. Fortunately very few saw that pair at Sheerside, and the detailed description has been suppressed.” He stood up. “I don’t suppose a name and dedication are carved on your toy anywhere? No? Well, bring it with us. The safest place for it is the grove.”

“Sphinx couldn’t be involved in Mother and Father’s death,” Eleri said, picking up the automaton. “Never get into the workroom without damage.”

“Most shabti are smaller than your automaton. And Hatshepsu…” He paused, a purely entertained expression making him look fully awake for the first time. “A thousand shabti were placed in Hatshepsu’s chambers at the Djeser-Djeseru when she entered rept. And a thousand shabti have been added every year since. That’s why they keep expanding the wretched place.”

Everyone knew that it was the three thousand, two hundred and eleventh year of Maatkare Hatshepsu’s reign because most countries had adopted Egypt’s count of years as a common reference. Even Yue, whose dragons had Answered as long ago as Egypt’s gods, still found it handy when dealing with other realms. Eluned was less certain exactly how long it was since Egypt’s Pharaoh had become stone, but could always rely on her brother’s memory.

“One million, five hundred and one thousand little sphinxes?” Griff said, as they followed Dem Makepeace back into the Hall.

“Shabti are usually shaped like people,” Dem Makepeace said, pausing before the open doors leading into the grove. “Not that I’ve heard of any recent attacks by miniature stone armies.”

“Better as spies,” Eleri said, and they all looked out into the grove. The hall felt very large and empty and exposed with the inner doors wide open and the trees full of shadows—and folies. Somehow, Eluned could not find the thought of them reassuring.

“There are advantages to the guardians of this place knowing you three properly,” Dem Makepeace said, perhaps catching their hesitation. “Unless you consider yourself an enemy of Cernunnos, there’s no particular danger, though you will not stray from my side, nor will you tell anyone what you witness or have discussed this night.”

“No,” Eluned agreed, echoing Eleri and Griff. Too much was bound up with their investigation to risk blabbing.

“No,” Aunt Arianne said, a beat later. She was frowning.

Dem Makepeace stepped beneath the trees, and Eluned didn’t allow herself to hang back, trailing him to the gate. It seemed to float at the end of the path, golden coils and silver fruit glimmering in pitch. Could the quick polish it had received that afternoon have made even that dusky red metal so reflective? Could star and distant gas light reach so far?

The key was a metal circle Eluned hadn’t even noticed Dem Makepeace carrying. She only caught the movement as he pushed it into the space between the twin amasens’ jaws, turning it easily. After a click the gate swung inward, and a cool breeze swept past them, setting all the leaves of the usually sheltered trees whispering, and bringing a crisp hint of pine with a darker note of loam.