Part 27 (1/2)

”There have been times when I almost did,” Lune said finally, not lifting her head. ”I held back because in the end, I believed my death-or even my abdication-would create more problems than it would solve. There are fae here who share my ideals, but none of them, I think, could manage this court. And those who could rule effectively would not do so in a manner I can accept.

”So when it was merely the arguments of the Sanists, it was easy to say no no. But now there is the Dragon. And now... I do not know.”

Irrith's hands curled into fists. She was vividly aware of her fingers, bones, joints-her body. Her self self. No separation between the two. ”Maybe you wouldn't die, though. I don't really understand what they've been talking about, but it sounds like what they're after is just you in a different form, your soul separated from the aether that makes you solid. So you wouldn't really be dead, would you? You'd just be... different.”

The two of them stared at each other, neither one moving, as if both were struck by the same thought. Lune said, ”The philosopher's stone-”

”Would it be a stone?” Irrith asked, still not blinking. ”Galen told me the alchemists thought it would be some kind of powder, red or s.h.i.+ning or whatever-but how would they know? None of them ever made it, not truly. And we aren't working with metals, are we?” They were working with spirits. The Dragon's, and Lune's. it be a stone?” Irrith asked, still not blinking. ”Galen told me the alchemists thought it would be some kind of powder, red or s.h.i.+ning or whatever-but how would they know? None of them ever made it, not truly. And we aren't working with metals, are we?” They were working with spirits. The Dragon's, and Lune's.

Wouldn't the result be a spirit, too?

The words seemed to float up out of Lune, without any effort on her part. ”I want to save the Onyx Hall.”

”And the Dragon wants to destroy it,” Irrith finished. ”Which one of you wins?”

Her answer was the fear in those silver eyes. Lune was strong and determined, yes. But strong enough to defeat the Dragon?

”We could be wrong,” Lune said carefully. ”This is mere speculation, and neither of us is a scholar. Nevertheless...” Her shoulders went back, and the elfin woman was gone; in her place stood the Queen. ”I hardly need tell you not to speak of this to anyone. I will consult with Galen-no, he is occupied. Another, then. I thank you, Irrith; you've given me much to think about.”

She swept out the door, leaving Irrith alone once more in the laboratory. Staring blindly at the far wall, she sank into a cross-legged position on the floor.

The philosopher's stone might not be their salvation after all. Which left them with what? Aspell's plan of sacrifice?

A chill sank into Irrith's bones. Until Lune brought it up, she hadn't given much thought to the question of what would happen to the Onyx Court if its Queen... went away. The Hall, yes; but not the court itself, the fae and mortals, with all their conflicting desires. Who would hold them together in Lune's absence? Who could could?

Aspell, maybe. But he showed no sign of wanting it; from what Irrith had seen, he was a Sanist only with reluctance, because the situation forced him to it. So who, then? One of the others in the coffeehouse that day?

She didn't even know who they were-much less what ambition hid beneath their masks. And the more she thought about it, the more fear tightened her muscles. The Lord Keeper might insist he would do nothing against the Queen's will, but those unknown others....

Irrith paced with small, tight strides, thinking. If she tried to ask Aspell for their names, he wouldn't tell her; he'd think she was preparing to betray them. And maybe she was. But there was someone else she could ask-someone who might know, who could be intimidated into telling, and who wouldn't much care what happened afterward.

Irrith went to hunt Carline.

Feidelm sat in perfect silence for a full minute after Lune shared what she and Irrith had discussed. The sidhe's vivid eyes grew distant; when they sharpened once more, frustrated regret filled them. ”Now of all times, I wish I still had my prophetic gift. I could look to the future and tell you if that danger is real.”

Such favors had been precisely what lost her that gift. Tensions between mortal England and Ireland rose and fell, but never subsided entirely, and that colored relations between their faerie courts, as well. The King and Queen of Connacht did not want one of their seers constantly lending aid to Lune, even if the Onyx Court no longer meddled in national politics as it once did.

Reminding Feidelm of that would do no good at all. ”You have more gifts than just foresight,” Lune said. ”What does your wisdom tell you?”

The Irish faerie bent her head, gripping her hands together. ”That you and Dame Irrith are right-and even if it's unsure, we cannot risk it.” She sighed, knuckles tensing. ”We struggled so hard with the question of how how to do this thing that we could not spare thought for what would happen afterward. But we should have done.” to do this thing that we could not spare thought for what would happen afterward. But we should have done.”

The brilliance of the idea had carried them all away. Not just to stop an evil, but to turn it to good. It meant more to Galen than it did to the fae, who were already immortal; and it meant the most of all to Dr. Andrews, whose life might be saved by this means.

Lune asked, ”Is Dr. Andrews at home now?”

Feidelm nodded. ”With Savennis, I think. The last I heard, he insisted he'd conceived of a way to extract sophic mercury, without harming the source; Savennis was trying to find a river nymph to a.s.sist them.” She exhaled, not quite a laugh. ”I don't know what they think they're doing. Nothing Andrews says about it makes the slightest bit of sense. He may have gone mad in truth.”

Staring at his own death so near-any man might lose his wits, even without the touch of faerie. And now Lune would have to crush his final hope.

It would be better if she waited for Galen, though. Not only did she wish to avoid undermining his authority as Prince, he was friendly with Dr. Andrews, more than any of the fae were; that might make this less cruel. In the meantime- Feidelm straightened her shoulders under Lune's gaze. ”I know. Wrain and I will go into the Calendar Room. We won't give up. If this can be made safe, we'll find a way; or we'll find something else.”

They still had the clouds. They still had time.

Sothings Park, Highgate: March 13, 1759 At the wedding breakfast after the ceremony, the loudest talk was of the St. Clair estate in Ess.e.x, and how it would be opened for the first time in years so that Galen and the new Mrs. St. Clair could reside there. His father and Mr. Northwood were already discussing investments, which would multiply Delphia's dowry for such renovations while still keeping portions safe for Galen's sisters, and Irene was telling anyone who would listen that her brother should breed horses once he had his own estate; but Aldgrange was the subject of immediate interest, for it was agreed upon by both families that the happy pair should remove from London at the first opportunity, and enjoy themselves in the countryside.

Fortunately, ”the first opportunity” was months off yet. Aldgrange needed a good deal of cleaning and repair before it would be suitable to inhabit. Galen and Delphia would be going nowhere before the end of the Season.

In the interim, they would reside at Sothings Park, with Mr. Northwood paying for their keep there. Galen had to admit it would be both easier and more pleasant than living under his father's eye. Strange as it sounded, he was master of his own household now; if he devoted his hours to the Onyx Hall, he need answer to no one other than Delphia. And she understood.

I made the right decision, telling her. Tension might grip his heart as they walked through the gardens after breakfast, but at least none of it arose from secrecy. Tension might grip his heart as they walked through the gardens after breakfast, but at least none of it arose from secrecy.

As if thinking of that tension, Delphia tilted her head back and shaded her eyes with one hand, searching the clouded heavens. ”Even if the skies were clear,” Galen said, ”you wouldn't be able to see it. It's too near the sun.”

She lowered her hand. ”Perihelion-am I right?”

”Yes.” Today, the comet stood at its closest approach to the sun. In the following days, it would draw toward the Earth. Pamphlet writers and half-literate preachers had been prophesying a resulting doom for years; Galen wondered sometimes whether they had somehow divined the faerie threat. Or perhaps some Sanist had told them, in order to undermine the Queen. A fiery conflagration, destroying all life upon the Earth... he prayed it would not come to that.

This was a miserable topic to consider on his wedding day. ”We're quite safe at the moment,” Galen said. ”Even telescopes cannot find the comet, even in clear skies. Let us turn to happier topics-ones, perhaps, that do not touch on the world below.”

They rounded a hedge, and found Lune waiting for them.

The faerie Queen stood unmasked in the center of the path, silver hair s.h.i.+ning despite the cloudy light. The sight of her sent a lance through Galen's heart: today of all days, to face the creature he adored, with his new wife upon his arm.

His pain was all the worse because Lune had obviously caused it unthinking. ”I came to deliver my good wishes to you both,” she said, inclining her head toward Galen and Delphia in turn.

If she was here, showing her true self, there must be half a dozen fae elsewhere in the gardens, keeping watch to ensure no one else wandered by. And more keeping her secret back in the Onyx Hall, so the Sanists would not know she'd gone. All that effort, just for good wishes. Lune truly considered it that important, to come and congratulate them on their wedding day?

Congratulations, and something more. ”I have gifts to bestow upon you,” Lune said. Her hands were empty; did some lady or hob lurk in the hedge, ready to hand her things as needed? No, her gifts were of an intangible sort. ”For the two of you together, a promise of blessing. You need not fear losing children to illness; they will never want for good health.”

Gertrude had once said the Queen did that for all her Princes' children. Fae almost never had any of their own, so the offspring of mortals were priceless wonders in their eyes. Galen bowed, murmuring thanks, and Delphia echoed him.

The Queen looked next to the new bride. ”For Mrs. St. Clair, a position in my household as lady of the bedchamber-the first mortal ever to be offered such a place.”

Delphia's eyes widened. Galen doubted she had expected anything at all, not for herself in particular; certainly she hadn't expected this. Ladies of the bedchamber were few in number, and close to the Queen. Even Irrith was not counted among them. Delphia sank into a belated curtsy, this one deeper than the last, and stammered new thanks.

Then it was Galen's turn. He knew Lune had promised a wedding gift, but what she might choose to give him, he could not begin to guess.

”I considered many things for you, Lord Galen,” she said softly. Sorrow touched the edges of her mouth, so faintly that one who had not studied her face for years would not have seen it. ”In the end, I could think of no thing better than this: to say that you may have one boon of me. Whatever you ask-whatever might please you on this day-I will grant it to you.”

His heart ached so fiercely he thought it might stop. Galen was perversely glad of the pain; it kept him from speaking the words that leapt into his mind.

Give me one more kiss from your lips, as I had when you made me Prince.

He would rather have died than said it, with Delphia standing at his side. By the time his throat had opened enough to speak, he'd conquered the impulse-but that left him with nothing to say. What could he ask of her, that he wanted badly enough to spend her boon upon it? Everything he could think of was too trivial, or else would cause Delphia grief. I want to choose something neither will despise me for. Something they can be proud of. I want to choose something neither will despise me for. Something they can be proud of.

Both of them, Delphia as well as Lune. While there was no romance between him and his new wife, there was was friends.h.i.+p, and he wanted to be worthy of it. friends.h.i.+p, and he wanted to be worthy of it.

Those thoughts, here in the garden of Sothings Park where he had made certain promises to Delphia, gave him the inspiration he needed. ”Your Grace,” Galen said formally, ”I would like to form an academy in the Onyx Hall.”

Now all three of them had been surprised this day. ”An academy?”