Андреа Хёст - The Pyramids of London

“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.”