TWENTY-FOUR

The thing that wanted to kill them crashed against the Burning Circle like a green-grey wave meeting a breakwater. Hands of mist groped and snatched, but withered as soon as they crossed the bounds, and briefly the hunter flickered away to nothing, but then surged and swept onward, a formless intangibility reaching, grasping, until it completely surrounded the whole of the wide circle of stone. There was a noise, words that Eluned could not distinguish, constant as rain.

“Something under the ground?” Li Zhi panted, as out of breath as if he’d been running.

“If we’d been on foot…” Griff slipped off the courser, took two steps toward the edge of the circle, then retreated back to the exact centre.

People were streaming out of and around the compression dome, but wisely stopped at a distance as the green-grey tide waxed higher. It was as if the thing’s failure to gain its prize was causing it to swell and double in force with every passing moment.

“Who in the Fifteen Hells and Thousand Heavens did you annoy?” Li Sen asked.

“Romans,” Griff said. “Or…I didn’t really understand what they were saying.”

“I think it was their accent, or a dialect,” Eluned said, and let out a sobbing little laugh because what did that matter right now? “Pray,” she suggested, as one of the triskelion-inscribed stones tilted, and another began to sink. “Pray!”

Sulis rarely answered prayers directly. She worked her will through the Trifold, and the most supplicants could hope for was a nudge to their fortunes in the areas that were Sulis’ particular domain. As Eluned tilted her face to the sun and fumbled for words, she wondered if she should be calling on Cernunnos instead. But the airfield was singularly clear of trees, and all hint of the Great Forest had left her. Surely Sulis would find this affront to one of her circles an act worthy of response.

“Dimity!” Griff gasped, finding his own form of prayer. “Please come help! Dimity. I‑i‑EE!”

Eleri joined in. “I‑i‑EE! Dimity, for Sulis’ honour! I‑i‑EE!”

Two of the standing stones rose several feet, and then heeled over. Another was only half its former height. The grasping hands were reaching further into formerly safe territory, but were not yet able to entirely breach the circle. The incomprehensible words grew in volume, though Eluned still could not make out what was being said.

“Stay back from us and they might ignore you,” Eluned said hurriedly to Li Sen and Li Zhi, then joined Eleri and Griff in calling out the name of a faceless pinwheel that had so loved to hear its name that Eluned could still remember the reflected joy.

“But what are you trying to do?” Li Sen asked, making no move to gain any distance—though there was precious little area outside the centre that was now not threatened by snatching hands.

“It’s solstice singing,” Li Zhi said, adding his own voice. “I‑i‑EE!”

“I‑i‑EE!” they all sang, as one of the great flat stones was dragged completely under. They clung to each other and sang louder, voices rising above the constant whispering as both coursers started to sink.

I‑i‑EE?

The blue and white triskelion burst into existence, whirling in a narrow circle in what little clear space remained between children and snatching mist. The hands recoiled, but then simply dropped lower to the ground, reaching for ankles.

I‑i‑EE! Dimity spun faster, and was joined in a wave of heat by red and gold with a trill of O‑o‑O!, and a yellow and green O-e-oo-a!.

And then, far far above them, one of the greater triskelion emerged, its wings deep black, their reach so vast that the airship that had recently taken off was visible below it, buffeted by the downdraft.

A-a-a-A-a-a-A-a-a-A-a-a-A-a-a-A-a-a! it sang, washing half of London with heat.

And then it vanished again, leaving only a tumult among the clouds, but all three of the smaller triskelion remained, and had turned from horizontal to vertical to drive along the ground, cutting through the grasping mist and setting the withered grass alight.

“I think it worked!” Li Zhi said, coughing. “The noise has stopped.”

The smoke made it difficult to be entirely certain, but Eluned thought he was right. The standing stones were no longer shifting, and no hint of reaching fingers remained.

“Help me with the coursers,” Li Sen said urgently, and they hastily came together to haul the rear wheel of one out of the dirt, and then push both vehicles out of the remains of the circle.

I‑i‑EE?

“Thank you, Dimity!” Eluned called, as the three triskelion rose rapidly into the air. “Thank you, Toroco, and, uh—”

“Lorenoola,” said a woman, mildly informative. They turned to discover the leading edge of the crowd had reached them, a number armed with buckets and blankets, and at their head was a small woman dressed neatly in overalls, who tossed water briskly onto the smoking grass.

“With the triskelion so frequently called here, we are well drilled with grass fires,” she said, looking with interest at the two coursers. “Are those out of Nathaner’s? I heard they were doing new things with motorised velocipedes.”

“Yes, dama,” said Li Sen, pride competing with reaction to the near escape. “These are the prototypes, but we’ll be going into production with the coursers soon.”

“That wheel looks damaged. Bring them into Workshop Two and we’ll see what we can do with it before the police arrive.” She cocked her head at the scene behind them, and added: “Along with a representative of the palace, I expect. And the Sun Keepers. And, of course, airfield security.”

Eluned turned because these last were just arriving, stopping to stare at the wreck that had been the Burning Circle, one of the most famous in Prytennia. At least half the stones had fallen, and two were shattered. One was missing altogether while the top quarter of another poked out of the ground like an emerging tooth. Beyond, the airship buffeted by the greater triskelion was hastily landing. Above, the clouds had twisted into a gyrating swirl, and the remaining smoke from the grass streamed every-which-way in the suddenly pounding wind.

“Send the palace representative in to me when they arrive, Joshua,” the short woman said to a man beating out lingering flames with a blanket. “Come along you five.”

Eluned hung back a moment. “Please, dem, could you tell the police to go to the Ficus Lapis workshop? We think that’s who sent that…whatever, and they looked like they were leaving.”

“Over on Fitchley?” said the man, and glanced at the woman, who nodded.

“Good thought,” the woman said. “I’m Trevelyan, by the way.”

Lady Aranxta Trevelyan, the Minister for Science and Technology. Eluned could almost see Eleri prick up her ears at this news, for Lady Trevelyan was on Eleri’s very short list of people she might consider working for, before starting her own workshop. The Minister had a formidable reputation as a physicist, but also a passion for aeronautical mechanics, and her workshops were at the forefront of development in Prytennia. Eluned was glad for her calm authority, and the way that she blithely led them away from all the people who wanted to exclaim at and interrogate and perhaps yell at them, even if it was clear that she was doing so to ask questions herself. Most fortunately she started by taking them to her book-choked office, sitting them down, and pouring tea into them until they all—and Griff particularly—stopped looking quite so peaky.

And she had even known mother a little, and was made thoroughly indignant by the possibility that she had been murdered—for they ended up telling her what Aunt Arianne called ‘All The Truth But The Dangerous Bits’, where they left out the artificial fulgite and the adapted mannequin, and presented themselves as convinced there were strange going-ons afoot, but were most certainly not in active pursuit of them.

“What then, young man, did you see in your wanderings through Ficus Lapis?” Minister Trevelyan asked, when they had, via many tangents and asides, explained how their quest for cheap tools and fine automaton components had led them to the Roman workshop. “What was this secret that a reputable firm was so very keen to hide that it has left all of London pointing at the sky?”

“Chicken wire,” Griff said.

“Seriously?” Li Zhi, who had been following the story with avid interest, couldn’t hide his disbelief. “They sent something god-touched after you, brought down the Burning Circle, annoyed Sulis enough that she sent a greater—that was Ah-ah, you know—a greater triskelion that hasn’t shown itself since the end of the French Occupation. Over chicken wire?”

“I think maybe whatever they were hiding had been cleared out by then.” Griff was clearly enjoying their reaction. “It was one of those rooms with the really thick, well-fitted doors, and no windows—you know, designed so the Night Breezes can’t get in. They’d been carrying crates out, but when I looked there were only some empty tables, and a few rolls of chicken wire in a corner. A stack of newspaper, and nothing else. Then the lady with the sore feet grabbed me.”

“Indeed.” Lady Trevelyan ran a hand absently through her short-cropped dark hair. “I suppose they were worried you had seen something they had missed. And, of course, if this man Felix hadn’t warned you, you would have been walking along unsuspecting.”

“Waiting for a bus,” Eleri said, with a glance at Eluned that agreed not to mention god-bound certainties.

“In that area, there’s a good chance that no-one would even have noticed three children vanishing. Pulled underground with barely a chance to cry out.” Lady Trevelyan tsked. “They sent a large power to do something small. And now will pay a vast price for their over-caution.”

At this point the ‘representative’ of the palace arrived in the form of Princess Leodhild, along with Aunt Arianne—fetched by Li Sen and Li Zhi’s mother—and everything had to be explained all over again, while Eleri drew pictures of the people they had seen.

“Not without precedent,” Princess Leodhild said, after Eluned had rambled back to the same conclusion. “Triskelion have very occasionally responded without the direction of the Sulevia Leoth—usually when something has drawn the attention of Sulis herself. Not that it’s impossible that Dimity heard her own name called, but for Ah-Ah to appear….Sulis is very angry indeed.”

There was a wry twist to her mouth, perhaps because the last time Sulis had been stirred to anger had been during the Three Sisters’ War, the unprecedented dispute over Prytennia’s throne that had ended very abruptly with Sulis killing all three Suleviae, leaving Prytennia exposed to an invasion from France.

“Still, we seem to be making progress at last, and I thank you younglings for that, though share your aunt’s winces. I shall go see what our Romans have left behind, and will speak to you later, Dama Seaforth. You wanted, incidentally Aranxta, to get your hands on the person who ‘drew all over’ your flier plans. Here she is, most convenient.”

With an amused nod at Eleri, Princess Leodhild left.

“Oh indeed?” Lady Trevelyan studied a suddenly scarlet Eleri. “Quite a breach in etiquette, you know.”

“I—I beg your pardon, Lady Trevelyan,” Eleri said.

“The proper procedure, setting aside the error of examining unpublished plans in the first place, would be to open correspondence with the designer. At which point a response might have let you know that we had considered that option, and discarded it—for reasons that can be touched on when you are not recovering from distracting excitements. At a later date, perhaps you would enjoy a tour of the workshops here.”

“Very much, thank you.”

Leaving Li Sen and Li Zhi to discuss the coursers, they climbed thankfully into the tiger brought by the pair’s mother. This lady’s name was Lu Lan Ying, and she was Mama Lu’s middle daughter, and had taken up a managing role in Nathaner’s Workshop nearly ten years ago. She didn’t feel it would be a big problem that the coursers were currently being examined with great interest by people at the Ministry workshop, since Nathaner’s was already geared up to produce them. The whole drama of the day might even prove to be a useful advertisement, since the whole of London would most certainly be talking about dramatic dashes for safety before the day was out.

Sitting in the seat behind Aunt Arianne and Dama Lu, Eluned was impressed at how naturally Aunt Arianne could ask all these questions without sounding like she was rudely prying at all, and then manage to insist on a generous payment despite Dama Lu’s polite demurrals. Eluned knew she would never be able to make that conversation anything but graceless, just as sometimes only her eternally heavy glass shield allowed her to keep her composure, while Aunt Arianne floated through awkwardness so effortlessly.

Most particularly, Aunt Arianne so rarely let slip what she was really thinking and feeling. It wasn’t until they were inside that Eluned was even sure she wasn’t angry, when Aunt Arianne, resting the back of her hand on Griff’s forehead, said:

“I think your punishment will be a few days in bed.”

“I’m not tired,” he said immediately.

“Well, that will make it feel more like a punishment then,” Aunt Arianne said, looking amused. “Do we need to stop by Hurlstone before you drag your feet reluctantly upstairs?”

Griff pulled a face, but then dug in his pocket and produced a ball of chicken wire, which he silently held out to Aunt Arianne. Eyebrows lifting, she took it from him, examined the shape, and then picked it apart to reveal a crumpled but precisely moulded hand.

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