“It’s marvellous, Elli,” Eluned said, after she’d obediently run through the function tests. She hugged her sister, delighting in the way both arms went around Eleri’s back and met without any need for concentration at all.
“Don’t call me Elli,” Eleri said, but didn’t break away, and even relaxed against Eluned for a moment. She was still too thin, far worse than her usual state of neglect during a project, but she had begun to improve, and no longer watched the mail for the invitation to the palace that they had had no true justification to expect.
In fact, other than a scrawled note from Dem Makepeace confirming that the verdict on their parents’ deaths would be overturned, Forest House had had nothing further to do with palaces or princesses or the fate of Prytennia, except the inevitable flood of reporters and curious strangers mixed in with the grove’s normal visitors. The Tennings had taken to staying upstairs, and Aunt Arianne, after making a very brief statement, had occupied herself once again with the avoidance of sunlight, only going out to visit Dama Blair, and Hurlstone.
Eluned did not know what to do about Aunt Arianne, who had had several bad things happen to her all at once, and was slow recovering. She spend most of her time practicing fencing steps, but at least seemed glad to talk to them over breakfast and dinner.
Racing footsteps heralded welcome distraction, and Melly, followed closely by Nabah, burst up the attic stair, waving a newspaper.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Griff asked, abandoning prospectuses.
The newspapers had definitely been interesting the last few weeks, full of fulgite’s true nature and Rome’s perfidy, and the sudden dilemma these revelations presented. War had not yet been declared, but was considered an inevitability, while the question of whether Egypt would demand all fulgite returned to it had not yet been answered. The highlight for Eluned had most definitely been a picture of Egypt’s Pharaoh, re-ascending her throne. The automaton built by Eiliff and Aedric Tenning, on the front page of every newspaper in the world.
But the afternoon edition Melly was waving had a picture of Aunt Arianne, and a familiar massive whorl which the black and white of newsprint somehow managed to convey was gold. The headline read: “A GIFT OF THE FOREST”.
“So that’s what Aunt did with the amasen horns,” Griff said, after snagging the newspaper from Melly.
Eluned peered over his shoulder, and read that Arianne Seaforth, Keeper of the Deep Grove, had donated one of the largest amasen horns ever seen to the Museum of Prytennia, and arranged for a dozen smaller horns to be auctioned. The proceeds would be used to establish “The Lamhythe Scholarship”, a fund administered by the Lamhythe Warden. Five students each year would receive a contribution toward their tuition.
“Think you’ll get it?” Eleri asked, shooing Griff away and reading the story over.
“Given how much Dama Chelwith had been bothering me about leaving school, and how pleased she is about me going to Tangleways, I think the chances are good.” Melly bounced excitedly, today’s collection of tiny, bell-tipped braids jingling. “This will make so much difference! I’d managed one term’s fees, but it required a lot of balancing. Is your aunt in the house? I must go thank her.”
“Far end of grove,” Eleri said.
“Ah, then I’ll wait until a better time. You don’t leave until the day after tomorrow, right? Have you picked your school yet?”
“I don’t think we ever will,” Eluned said. “Maybe we should throw them all in the air and go with whatever lands on top. What about you, Nabah? Still undecided?”
“No.” Nabah spoke proudly. “I am going to Karnata, to help establish the first Daughters Hospital in the Empire. Even though it means I will go in my time to a different Otherworld than my sisters who are staying, and there is sure to be adjustments and difficulties, I want to serve Lakshmi in truth, to honour more than Her name.” She wrinkled her nose, and added forthrightly: “I felt a coward compared to you and Keeper Seaforth, serving Cernunnos without fear or falter.”
“You can only say that ’cause you didn’t see the expression on Ned’s face when we were running away from that thing made of hands,” Griff said, returning to the pile of prospectuses he’d left by the window.
“Doing something despite being afraid’s the definition of bravery,” Melly said, equably. “Has Keeper Seaforth really been teaching you to shoot?”
“Yes, though we’re not allowed to aim at the ravens,” Griff said, picking up the prospectuses and holding them above his head. “And she keeps her guns locked away between lessons.” He dropped the stack of paper, picked up the one that had landed top-most, then dropped it again. “Boring.”
“Let’s get the Aunt to pick one,” Eleri said.
“Boring,” Griff repeated, then added casually: “The Queen’s in the back yard.”
It was one of the most effective dramatic pronouncements he’d ever achieved, but he barely watched their reaction, craning out the window instead.
“You probably shouldn’t call a sacred grove ‘the back yard’, Griff,” Eluned said, peering avidly. There was indeed a tall thin woman with short blond hair in the grove, but she was facing the wrong way, walking down the path with Dama Seleny, and she wasn’t exactly wearing a crown or torc. “Are you sure it’s the Queen?”
The question was answered when the two women stopped, and Dama Seleny started back to Forest House. If that wasn’t the Queen, it was someone who had her profile. And when she reached the currently closed gate, she unlocked it, and went right on through.
“Keeper opening gates every twenty-five years doesn’t look all that necessary,” Eleri said.
“I guess it’s symbolic,” Eluned replied. “And I guess I’m feeling hungry, and need to go down to the kitchen to get something to eat. Anyone else?”
Griff made it first down the stairs. But it was a close race.
Did aging vampires seek the sun because the pain made them feel alive, or did it keep at bay the ever-swelling host of dead friends and hidden wounds?
Rian was finding her lingering sun sensitivity useful. At the moment her calm centre was beyond her reach, but small hurts like sunlight and aching muscles were wonderfully distracting. Fencing practice in Hurlstone handily combined the two, while giving her hope that the cool balm of the boundless forest would eventually restore her.
Not today, however. She lay at the feet of a vampire older than Makepeace, staring at a vivid blue sky, yet again failing to reconstruct any semblance of internal balance.
Today had brought the news that attempts to excavate Lyle Blair’s body had been abandoned. There was no way to be certain if he had even been buried, given that one of the theories claimed the Sea of Lies transported victims to a punishment Otherworld. Since Rome had taken the only possible attitude—to deny any knowledge of fulgite’s true source, and lay all blame on the Mendacii—they had not been helpful in establishing the truth. Either way, Lyle was gone, and very likely had been as honest and giving as he’d always appeared, a victim of this Wrack creature.