Андреа Хёст - The Pyramids of London

Briefly closing her eyes, Rian listened to the shushing of the very top-most leaves. She couldn’t ask for a better aid to her self-command than this oasis of calm. During the morning windstorm the grove had been scarcely disturbed, and the single folie present was tucked well back on the far side of the dividing wall. She had not so far unlocked the gate and ventured into the rest of the forest, but knowing it was there was a balm. And yet she had spent the day frowning.

“The Deep Grove,” Evelyn said, returning to Rian. “This is the Deep Grove, isn’t it?”

“You know of it? Dem Makepeace is the Keeper.”

“Truly? That’s…not what I expected from him.” Evelyn shook his head, smiled at his own astonishment, then tweaked the edge of her veil. “The sensitivity hasn’t eased?”

“It is, slowly, after growing somewhat worse. It’s manageable so long as I stay out of direct sunlight.”

Lyle, hearing this as he returned with his sister, held out both hands, saying: “I was devastated to hear you’d been attacked, and the consequences of it. To be bound is bad enough, but in such circumstances, to a person you had no agreement with?”

“Fortunately Dem Makepeace seems to be even less fond of the idea of blood service than you, Lyle,” Rian said, ushering them back indoors away from the bothersome light. “He’s willing to let the bond lapse.”

Or at least not further it, a point that she clung to given his apparent determination to infuriate her. The lack of warning and explanation had extended not only to the kind of vampire she would apparently inevitably become, but even what petitioning Cernunnos would entail. He’d thrown her into an act of allegiance hoping she would balk or fail.

And yet she had to maintain some kind of link, or give up humanity altogether. Until he went to rept, she was part of him. His blood reproduced in her body, her ka attuned to his.

Rian turned that fact over for the thousandth time as she served tea in the small, well-shuttered parlour off the kitchen, and told her guests a highly edited tale of her new role of delegate Keeper.

“I don’t think Dem Makepeace thought I’d be accepted,” she said, swirling a few stray leaves around the bottom of her cup. “I suppose I don’t give the impression of someone who’s spent any time in forests.”

“Have you?” Lyle asked.

“Oh, yes. My parents built their studio on the edge of the Cadell Forest. The house was constantly full of guests—artists—and it could get very rowdy. I’d find my peace in the forest, and that’s something I’ve kept up no matter where I’ve travelled. Still, I had to think very hard about taking on this role, once I began to understand the level of allegiance I would be giving. It’s rather more serious than a ten-year contract as a Bound.”

A monumental leap, in fact. She did not think this particular permanency the source of her general dissatisfaction, though it discomforted her that she didn’t remember all of her encounter with Cernunnos. He had rested a hand on her forehead. There had been something, a wordless conversation that had left her turned inside-out. She could still feel the warmth of his touch, but the details had been rubbed over.

Refocusing with effort, Rian smiled at Lyle and said: “What happened to being whirled off to Alba?”

Evelyn answered. “He was whirled right back again when the Lord Protector heard about the Huntresses. Which is why I’m here as well, since Lord Msrah was called to London to, ah, welcome such prestigious visitors.”

“The…really? There are Huntresses in Prytennia?”

“Five hands of them. They arrived last night.” Evelyn cast a smiling glance at Lyle. “Prince Gustav’s sources are impeccable. He reached London before Lord Msrah.”

The elite strike force of Egypt’s military was made up entirely of vampires of the Sekhmet, Pakhet, and Bastet lines: the lioness, the caracal and the cat. There were few deadlier in combat anywhere in the known world.

“They’re…looking for the two sphinxes?”

“Oh, no, they’re here to offer Egypt’s assistance in solving Prytennia’s weather issues.” Evelyn’s face was alive with mirth. “Not a Shu among them! The afternoon papers are full of that little fact.”

“One day your love of drama will bite you somewhere awkward, Evelyn,” Lynsey said. “What would you have done if Lord Msrah hadn’t been called to London?”

“Been very restless. But I am most fortunate in my Lord—not least for the chance to check on you, Arianne. I was picturing, well, not this.”

“I anticipated a garret,” Rian said. “As it is…” She shrugged.

“You’re uncomfortable here,” Lynsey said, to Rian’s surprise.

“Not precisely, but…I’ve been trying to work out why I’m not straightforwardly overjoyed with a Royal appointment falling into my lap. This house, and a salary far more than a competence, all for opening a gate every twenty-five years? I think the problem is it doesn’t feel earned. As if I’ve cheated my way here. Or perhaps I’m angry that it’s sat here empty for so long.”

“Wasteful,” Lynsey agreed. “Though it seems to me that the role is more than opening a gate.”

“True enough. Controlling access, which seems to be a large issue, even within the neighbourhood. I’ve arranged for a noticeboard to be put up by the outer doors so I can post days the doors will be opened, and I was thinking of putting regular notices in newspapers, if only to stem the flood of letters. I received five yesterday and seven this morning asking whether I would permit joining ceremonies, along with a remarkable lecture from the Wise of Chalk Grove telling me I should not let people in, and to expect a deputation of the Wise. This is not at all what I thought to be doing.”

“You’ve the freedom to travel, though?” Evelyn asked. “More so than with Lord Msrah?”

“There doesn’t seem to be any bar against it. Though I expect to be relatively settled for the next few years.” She smiled at Lynsey with a casual civility that would allow no hint of her deep interest. “You live in London? Evelyn mentioned that you’re a member of the United Albion League. You believe there’s a Dragon of the North?”

Lynsey lifted a hand dismissively. “The dragons are beside the point. It’s Arawn who grants access to Annwn, and his Hunt has repeatedly been witnessed over the border. We do not know what limits his territorial allegiance, or what will happen if we simply choose to join Alba and Prytennia under the name of Albion.”

“But the Suleviae are confined to the dragonates. They won’t be able to defend the north.”

“Prytennia’s airships have no such restrictions. Nor do the Nomarches, or, for that matter, the army. It would not be so secure as Prytennia under Sulis, but why not at least try it to see if it gains us territorial allegiance? Under a method less desperately divisive than the requirements of this ridiculous Protectorate.”

Evelyn chuckled. “You don’t think Prince Gustav will win himself a permanent nest?”

“That vote only passed thanks to certain absences, and much stirring up of fear of Rome. It’s already foundering. There’s no way enough Albans will make personal sacrifices to the Aesir.”

Lynsey glanced apologetically at her brother, who shrugged and said: “I don’t recommend underestimating Prince Gustav. Yes, on current numbers the term of the Protectorate won’t be extended, but a vote for a united Albion is even less likely. And Prytennians so associate their borders with the dragonates that they’re positively superstitious about reaching beyond them.”

“They also started with one dragonate and now have three,” Lynsey pointed out.