The Geomancer (16 page)

“Thank you for putting me just before the cat at least.” Adele drew her brother and General Anhalt inside. “He's around somewhere. I brought him to the palace, but after that he's on his own.”

“Where's Greyfriar?”

“I don't know. I brought him to the palace too, but neither he nor the cat will abide a leash.”

Simon laughed and pulled at his stiff uniform collar. He passed to the open French windows and drew in a deep breath even with the tinge of chemical haze and coal smoke. His gaze tracked an airship that was beating against the wind above the harbor. “I really am glad you're back because now that you're here, I can go off. General Anhalt said I could go to Britain.”

“Did he indeed?” Adele looked sharply at Anhalt, who shook his head firmly.

“Yes.” The boy turned inside. He settled in a chair and took pleasure in waving at the piles of files and folders on the desk. He noted with a sour look the stacks of peculiar notebooks and occult tomes stacked on top of the official documents. “The empire of paper is all yours now. Along with the votes and factories and favors and money and poetry.”

Adele tapped one of the crystallography texts as she took a seat behind the desk. “Did you read the materials I suggested to you about geomancy?”

Simon's blank face showed that he had not. “Yes.”

“That's why I found them still dusty on the shelf in the library? And did you meet with Sanah and Sir Godfrey while I was gone?”

“Yes.” The prince bristled. “I have been pretty busy. Plus going to school. Plus training with the navy. Maybe you don't realize what responsibility means now. You're off with Greyfriar.”

Silence sat thick in the room. Simon sulked at Adele across the stacks of books. He wasn't sorry; he wasn't prepared to take anything back. Ever the peacemaker, General Anhalt surveyed the glum boy, then offered a silent plea for Adele's understanding.

She sat back in her chair. “Simon, this past year has been difficult for you. I do appreciate your efforts more than I can say. I am enormously proud of what you've accomplished.”

“Yeah?”

Adele felt her brother's frustration; she remembered the same emotions in herself. She worked her thumb anxiously across the blue crystal in her hand. “Yes. I'll tell you what, why don't we postpone our conference until tomorrow? We've obviously gotten off on the wrong foot today.”

“Tomorrow I'll be training on HMS
Nur Jahan.”

“All right.” She took a breath. “I'll have my staff contact your staff for your next available time before your departure for Europe.”

Simon gave a sullen sneer until he processed what she had just said. “Wait. You mean I can go to Britain?”

“Yes, you may.”

Simon's eruptive whoop of joy startled Adele. He rushed her and threw his arms around her in an exuberant display of delight. “I can't believe you said yes. I'm going to Britain.”

“With an armed escort,” she said. “A
large
armed escort.”

“I don't care. Just so long as I can go. Deus vult! I have packing to do!” He kissed her wetly on the cheek and ran from the room. A second later he darted back in and delivered a well-practiced formal bow. His wide boisterous grin made it far less formal than was intended, and it made Adele laugh. Then he was out the door and racing down the hall toward his quarters.

Adele regarded General Anhalt, waiting for him to chide her. He was moving a chair into place.

“Just say it. I placated him.” Adele sighed with self-criticism. “I've been looking forward to seeing Simon for months. I just didn't realize he resented me so much. I wish you had let me know.”

“He doesn't resent you. Prince Simon is under enormous stress. May I speak plainly?”

“Always.”

“He has worked very hard, very hard indeed, certainly since last summer when you sent me back from Britain to help him. He is energetic, but not well-focused.”

“Like me.”

“Like you were, but worse. Perhaps because he's unsure what his purpose is, short of pleasing you.”

“He feels that he's the one actually ruling the empire, but I'm still the empress. He's doing the work and I get the bouquets.”

“He doesn't begrudge you your position, but some discouragement is natural.”

Adele gestured. “General, please sit down. It hurts
my
hip to see you standing.”

Anhalt lowered himself into the padded chair. “Prince Simon doesn't want to be emperor. However, he doesn't want the work of one for no reason. He's young so he's easily bored and frequently annoyed.”

“Like me.”

“Like you were.” Anhalt smiled. “The fact is, in many ways, he is an effective leader. He is very well-liked by the Council and by Commons.”

“I'm not surprised. He's a likeable boy.” Adele paused with a sad smile. She thought back to the cherubic little tornado of a boy whom she had bundled off to Katanga after spreading the rumor he had been killed by vampires. It was all part of her war strategy, and all so long ago. “He's not my little brother any longer. He's a young man.”

Anhalt shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “He will always be your little brother. You are doing the right thing sending Prince Simon to Britain. He has earned it. And, quite frankly, it's not a bad idea to send him. It is an imperial province now. He handles himself quite well, and he is extremely affable with soldiers and politicians.”

“He's only
unaffable
with me then?”

“You're his sister. He loves you and he worries about you, but he is jealous of the freedoms you take. Prince Simon is a young man and he wants a bit of adventure.”

“That's entirely reasonable.” Adele looked pleadingly at Anhalt. “I do want him to experience more of the world. It's good for the empire, and it's his right. But the idea of him in danger chills me.”

“Time away from Alexandria would benefit His Highness. Here in the capital, he is naturally prone to fall in with the technocrats who surround him and who are not friends of the occult sciences. Prince Simon is torn between their views, views he was raised to believe, and his love for you.” Anhalt hesitated, eyeing the blue crystal that Adele worked unconsciously between her fingers. “There has been much . . . talk.”

“Then I was right to send you home to guide him.”

The general pushed himself to his feet. He gave her an understanding smile. “I will make the arrangements for his trip.”

Adele nervously shifted books into new piles. “If one of our ironclads is available, he may take that. And he must stay inside it at all times.”

“Majesty?”

Adele laughed quietly. “I'm only joking. Just keep him out of ­Scotland.”

Anhalt looked curious at the command.

Adele continued, “You know damn well he'll try to sneak up there to see the mysterious Prince Gareth.”

“Like you?”

“Don't be fresh. Just make sure the governor's staff in London keeps him away from anything to do with Gareth. He's not ready for every secret.”

“Yes, ma'am. And thank you.” Anhalt leaned on his walking stick. “And now that Your Majesty is officially in residence, I become your chief-of-staff. What are your plans?”

“This.” She laid a hand on one of the piles of reports. “I have to digest all this information before speaking to Commons in a few days. Oh, and I'll want to speak to Selkirk.”

General Anhalt reared back in surprise. “Selkirk? That would be most unwise. He attempted to murder you last year.”

Adele tapped her pen against a pile of folders. “Oh, who hasn't tried to murder me? We'll arrange for proper security, but I want to see him.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Anhalt stared with a glint of wise suspicion. “Don't take this as an expression of less than my sheer delight that you have come home, but why have you come home? Simply to have a chat with an assassin?”

“No. There were a few interesting events in Britain and Europe that sent me here. I'd be happy to tell you about them.” Adele smiled sheepishly. “But only if you promise not to be angry.”

“Dear Lord.” General Anhalt sank back into his seat with a deep breath. He took a firm grip on the arms of the chair. “In that case I may need a glass of brandy.”

Adele crossed to the sideboard and poured a hefty glass. She handed it to the general and settled herself again behind her desk as he downed it in a single swallow, then stared evenly at her.

“Very well,” Anhalt said. “You may carry on.”

C
HAPTER 15

Adele waited inside the Victoria Palace classroom where she had taken her lessons as a child, including many hours of instruction from Mamoru on geomancy and other forbidden, or at least frowned upon, subjects. She had prepared the room with books on geomancy and crystals scattered on tables, as well as recognizable paraphernalia for the testing of crystalline structures and the mapping of ley lines. Perhaps disguising the interrogation as something familiar would put Selkirk at ease and make him talkative. Four knocks on the door signaled that the time was here.

Adele made a quick adjustment to the equipment display and then went to sit in a hard chair in a bright corner, her usual spot for class. The door opened. General Anhalt glanced inside to make sure she was ready. Adele nodded.

The general entered along with Major Shirazi, followed by Selkirk. The geomancer had grown shockingly thin and pale. Adele remembered him as robust and tanned. His long flaxen hair was now unkempt and growing grey and wiry. His clothes were presentable but hardly palace style. He clutched his jacket together as he stared at Adele. Clearly he sensed his relative shabbiness, even though his eyes were hazy and unsure.

Greyfriar's commanding figure pressed in after Selkirk, and he had to nearly shove the hesitant prisoner deeper into the room. He closed the door as the Harmattan took up their places in the hall. With a hand on the pommel of his rapier, Greyfriar stood watch from the corner.

Anhalt gestured toward a padded chair opposite Adele. Selkirk shuffled across the floor. He glanced with confusion toward the crystals and books.

“Mr. Selkirk.” Adele stood and, out of habit, extended her hand. The man just stared at it, so she lowered it. “Won't you have a seat?”

The door opened again and servants carried in trays of fruit and cheese with pots of tea and bottles of wine. They laid the food on a table and silently filed out. Adele went to pour tea, but Anhalt hobbled over and assumed the serving duties.

She begrudgingly surrendered the teapot to the general. “Tea, Mr. Selkirk? Or a glass of wine perhaps?”

Selkirk was focused completely on a stray thread hanging off the cuff of his jacket. Anhalt poured a cup of tea anyway and set it near him. The general gave Adele a disgusted glance, indicating Selkirk. She nodded him away.

Adele drew a yellow crystal from her pocket. It was a stone she had brought from London, specifically from the area around Bedlam in the southern part of the city. She took Selkirk by the arm, creating a ripple of tension in Greyfriar and Anhalt. It was difficult to pull the man's fingers away from the loose thread. Finally, she wrenched his hand toward her and placed the crystal between his thumb and forefinger, hoping he would take to it. He froze, not looking up. And then slowly his fingers rolled the crystal. His brow furrowed with attention.

Adele sat back casually and sipped her tea. “Do you know me, sir?”

He lifted his head, staring into the distance. She reached over and took the crystal away from him. He jerked with surprise at his empty hand.

“Do you know me?” Adele repeated clearly.

“No.” Selkirk flexed his fingers. “But I met your daughter in London.”

“My daughter?”

“Yes, ma'am. She was very pleasant. Even though I imagine she was frightened, she didn't show it.” He bit his lip in concentration as he pulled at the thread on his cuff again. “My condolences.”

“Condolences for what, Mr. Selkirk?”

“Her death, ma'am. I'm very sorry I killed her.”

Adele glanced at Greyfriar, who rose slightly on the balls of his feet, ready to strike at the twitching man in the chair. She looked him back down and politely addressed Selkirk, “Why did you kill me . . . I mean, her?”

He breathed out through his nose. “Prince Cesare wanted her dead.”

Adele sat back. “Do you know Prince Cesare is dead?”

Selkirk rubbed his eye with a bemused huff. “Good.”

“Do you know that Mamoru is dead?”

“Good.”

“The Witchfinder is alive.”

Selkirk's eyes flicked to Adele, but he quickly recovered his bland demeanor. “Good.”

Adele reached over to a small table and retrieved the copy of the al-Khuri book she had brought from Versailles. She held it out to Selkirk. He took it and read the spine. Then he set the book in his lap with a hand resting on the leather cover.

Adele pointed at the book. “Would you turn to page three hundred and twenty-four, please?”

Selkirk immediately opened the tome with mild interest and flipped the thick pages. He finally found the right place and lifted it toward Adele.

“Oh no,” she said. “You look at it.”

He glanced down at the section about energy conservation and crystalline geometry. The margins and blank spaces were filled with ragged scrawls.

“You'll note,” Adele said, “several comments written there about
Doctor
Selkirk. Is that you?”

He smiled wistfully. “Yes. He always referred to me as
doctor
.”

“The Witchfinder, you mean?”

“That was his favorite title. Silly.” Selkirk pursed his lips and studied the notes with greater interest. “Although he found me out right enough.”

“What was his real name?”

“Goronwy. Doctor or Professor or Reverend Goronwy, depending on his mood.”