The jangle of bells interrupted, and Rian slid her list beneath the blotter. She was going to have to give serious consideration to day staff, and Dama Chelwith would no doubt have the ideal people, sitting waiting for the request. Rian would then be a person with servants. Another adjustment.
Constantly picturing people as pulsing rivers of blood was perhaps the largest change, and three were waiting on the far side of the door. Expecting another helpful deputation of locals, Rian discovered instead three reasons to be pleased.
“Evelyn! And Lyle! It’s good to see you both again.” Rian smiled at the two men, and the tall blond woman who could be no-one but the person Rian was most interested in speaking to.
“Arianne!” Evelyn began, but then looked past her, eyes widening. “What in the world?”
“Come in and gape,” Rian invited, gesturing with the hat she’d carried down with her. “It’s too distracting isn’t it?”
“I wasn’t at all certain we’d found the right place,” Evelyn said, stepping in and staring at the soaring ceiling and spectacular windows. “This is not what I expected from Makepeace. Inside or out.”
“Technically, I don’t think he’s ever lived here,” Rian said. “But he has the disposition of it.”
“Remarkable,” Lyle said, his stares as much for Rian’s face as the room before he took himself in hand. “Arianne, I’d like you to meet my sister, Lynsey Blair. Lynsey, this is Arianne Seaforth.”
Lynsey, built on Nordic lines, was an inch or so taller than Evelyn, and kept her oat-coloured hair in two thick braids down her back. Her voice was warm, rich with a northern accent as she said: “I’ve been hearing a great deal about you.”
“Welcome to Forest House,” Rian said, and very deliberately held out her hand to clasp the taller woman’s in greeting.
“I can see where the name comes from,” Lynsey said, her grip firm and her dominant emotion a calm curiosity. No hint of recognition or guilt. “Are those real trees on the other side of the glass?”
“Let me show you,” Rian said. “Words are a little inadequate.”
Since the day was sunny, she settled her hat and veil before pulling back the heavy bar, and stayed in the shade of the doorway as her three visitors, exclaiming, walked beneath the trees. Had it been a false lead? Lynsey at first glance seemed a perfectly amiable person, possessing a poised dignity, and…and Rian had a weakness for tall women, and should not let that lead her into ready trust. Her not-entirely-reliable new senses were merely a starting point, and it would be stupid to rush to frank questions.
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.”