Chapter Seventeen

Queen of the Æther

 

Knocking on the headmistress’ door in the dead of night was a different sort of terrifying for Verity. It was a combination of pure fear tinged with disappointment and overwhelming embarrassment. Henry cradled Emma, and insisted with a jerk of his head she be the one to put knuckles to oak.

“You strike me as a strong girl, and I should nurture such strength,” Miss Delancy said of her. “A talented girl such as yourself? Why would I turn you away?”

Perhaps putting a student’s life in jeopardy coupled with dabbling in æthersciences without proper supervision would be enough reason, Verity thought bitterly.

Her knocking did not bring Miss Delancy to the door, and Verity would have given up if not for Emma’s pale face lolling against Henry’s chest. Pressing her lips together, Verity tightened her fist and pounded more violently on the wood. That assault earned her the sound of movement behind it. Yet still the door did not open.

Now she didn’t care who heard her. “Miss Delancy! Miss Delancy, please answer the door!”

More movement, cabinets being opened and closed, and then finally she opened the door. The headmistress was not entirely how Verity figured she would appear in the dead of night, roused unexpectedly from her sleep. In her mind’s eye she imagined a tousled head and a dowdy cotton nightgown. Instead, Miss Lobelia Delancy wore a thin white, short satin robe over a black lace bodysuit that defined what a woman of her class certainly did not want defined. Verity knew, despite her age, the headmistress had a very fine figure.

Henry’s eyes widened, and a faint smile crept over his lips.

With the gaslight behind her, the headmistress’ eyes were pools of shadow. “What on earth is going on?” she asked, and there was a definite snap in her voice. Her outrage melted once her eyes fell on the comatose Emma in Henry’s grasp. “Come in. Quickly.”

“There has been an accident,” Verity ventured, hoping the headmistress heard her running to the hearth where the fire was alight just as it had been when she had met with her. “Something to do with an ætheroscillator. Since Mrs Pyke is dead, we don’t know where to take...”

“Just tell us what happened.” That voice made Verity stand a little straighter. Professor Vidmar stepped out of the shadows and took Emma out of Henry’s grasp. “From the beginning. Miss McTighe, and turn up the lights.”

Julia stumbled to the wall sconces, cradling the scorched oscillator in one arm while she turned the dial on the gaslight with the other.

“We were performing an experiment,” Verity said as Vidmar and Henry gently laid Emma in the space Miss Delancy cleared in front of the hearth. She focused her words to her headmistress, doing all she could to ignore her automaton professor. “We were attempting to reach…” It sounded so ridiculous, but she could not deny her own experience or the tragic physical evidence. “…to reach the other side. We were holding a séance using an æthercommunicator…”

“Wouldn’t you need an ætheroscillator for that?” Vidmar asked.

“Yes, ya’ would,” Julia said, then handed him the useless component. “My sympathies, Professah.”

“I was intending this,” he said, turning the device in his hands, “to assist Miss Simmons here with the stealth capabilities of her class project.”

“Aye, well, if’n it weren’t fah Verity here, we would have nevah gotten our hands on it.”

Verity could have slapped the back of her head. Julia was terribly bright, but not very smart sometimes. “Our intention was to contact Mrs Pyke and ask who killed her. Julia constructed the communicator and our séance was a success. We made contact.”

Miss Delancy’s eyes shot up from the prone form of Emma to Verity. “You made contact with the other side?”

“Yes.”

“With Mrs Pyke?”

“No.” Verity bit her bottom lip, and said, “It was something else. Something…evil.”

“Aye, an’old!” Julia added. “We heard Verity call it the Silver Pharaoh.”

Vidmar and Delancy shared a momentary look. Verity stepped between them. “You know about the Silver Pharaoh?”

“Just legend,” Vidmar said dismissively, joining Delancy by Emma’s side. “Isn’t that right, Lobelia?”

“My interest in the æthersciences stem from my family’s connection with archaeology.” She took in a deep breath and went to the bookcase. “It was the Delancys who funded the original expedition to find the Silver Pharaoh.” Julia let out a gasp as Delancy’s fingers glided along the spines. “Since its discovery, my family has been plagued with tragedy and disgrace. The only reason my reputation remains immune is that I was the one who orchestrated the deception at the British Museum.”

“At the British Museum?” Henry asked. “What do you mean?”

Verity looked to Henry. He shot her a wink. Well played, Henry.

“Without delving into details, the Silver Pharaoh has been a thorn in my family’s side,” Delancy said, pulling a single volume free of the bookcase. “I have used much of my family’s resources to not only keep my family name intact, but to keep this school running.” She frantically flipped through pages. “I know I have seen this before.”

“Lobelia?” Vidmar asked, his face tense. A muscle twitched in his jaw.

“You can help her, can’t you?” Verity asked, feeling once more the strangeness of the little tableaux. Naturally there would have to be plenty of reasons for Professor Vidmar to be in their headmistress’ rooms in the middle of the night, and whatever the teachers did among themselves was of no concern to her. However, Miss Delancy’s curiously odd attire and Vidmar’s presence set Verity’s teeth on edge.

“Professor Vidmar, return the students to their rooms,” Miss Delancy said, waving her arms in their general direction as if they were chickens. “Assure their safety, if you please.”

Henry shot Verity a look that the Seven often shared. He didn’t want to leave Emma behind. Do we dare to reveal our hand?

Verity gave a tiny shake of her head, while her fingers flat against her dress signed, I’m in charge.

Hopefully he wouldn’t fight her tonight.

Vidmar gestured to the door, his face blank. Henry and Julia obeyed but Verity remained next to Delancy. She was not going to concede to the headmistress just yet.

Taking hold of Emma’s hand, she tilted her chin up. “I’m staying, Miss. I’m the closest thing she has to family with her parents dead and all. I should be with her.”

Something about the way Miss Delancy adjusted her posture gave Verity chills; it reminded her of one particularly nasty guard dog chained up down by the docks. That beast didn’t bark. It just bit.

As quickly as the threatening glimmer appeared, it was gone. “Very well,” she replied warmly.

The door closing behind the other three sounded like a tomb being sealed, but the headmistress paid it little mind as she began reading the passage from her book. With a curt nod, she went to a cupboard suspended over a tea setting and began laying out items from within it.

“Quite stubborn aren’t you, Miss Simmons.” It was a compliment, even though her interruption of amorous adventures between the two adults should have warranted more scorn than anything.

“I have my moments, Miss,” she replied, pushing Emma’s hair out of her face and hoping she wouldn’t notice the new grey lock. “Just please make her well again.” It was time to bring out the full arsenal. Provide just a hint of truth, keep her sympathetic. “We were together in the orphanage see.”

With most adults, at least the middle or upper class ones, the orphan stories tended to do well—all thanks to Mr Dickens. The crooked eyebrow and slight twist of Miss Delancy’s lips suggested Verity might be laying it on a bit thick. “Enough of that now. Let us concentrate on the matter at hand, shall we?” Miss Delancy laid out a strange series of objects in front of Emma: a black feather, a pyramid-shaped pink gemstone, and a small brass dial. None of these made any sense, but Verity kept her face as still as a china mask. “Now, hold your friend still...”

Resting her hands against Emma’s shoulders, Verity felt the cold coming off the younger girl, the muttering under her breath just discernible over the crackle from the fireplace.

“Not a language I am familiar with,” Delancy admitted, returning her attention to her book.

Verity leaned into Emma and listened intently. A tightness formed in her throat. That was the voice I heard. That is the voice the Silver Pharaoh.

After a moment of listening to Emma’s faint murmurings, the headmistress picked up the feather in one hand and the crystal and dial together in the other. Verity watched her carefully. Miss Delancy began waving the feather over Emma’s prone form, scooping the air as if she was guiding unseen smoke towards the contents of her other hand. Æther was a strange substance to be sure, but Delancy’s rituals had no relation to any sort of science. It was more like the parlour tricks she saw confidence people play on widows and grieving mothers. At least Julia’s device had some scientific basis.

Delancy paused and looked back at the open book before her. Shaking her head slightly, she began the ritual once more, but this time the emphasis of her words changed.

“You said you have seen this before, yes?” Verity snapped.

“Young lady, I would suggest you choose a more delicate tone. Now, silence please.”

When Miss Delancy finally put down the three odd objects, she took Verity’s hand and placed it against Emma’s heart. She could feel the poor girl’s heart threatening to pound through her rib cage, but the Egyptian the headmistress whispered seemed to have some sort of effect on her. The longer Miss Delancy spoke the incantation, the more Emma’s heartbeat calmed.

Verity was about to open her mouth and ask “What now?” when Emma lurched upright, her deep, desperate gasp for air causing her entire body to shudder. Both Verity and Miss Delancy jumped back a little, uncertain if the young girl would collapse back like some dreadful marionette with its strings cut.

But then Emma coughed, leaning over in a painful spasm, and the gaslight dimly illuminated green vapour expelling from her mouth. Verity put her arm around her while Miss Delancy closed the book that had been her guide and released a breath that, from the sounds of it, she had been holding for quite some time. When Emma’s fit finally calmed, her eyes were watering and her skin was as pale as parchment.

She looked at Verity, rather than through her. “Where am I?” she whispered and her throat sounded raw.

“Miss Delancy’s rooms,” Verity said in a mad scramble, lest her friend—not quite in her senses yet—reveal something she shouldn’t.

Emma glanced around and spotted the headmistress. “Miss Delancy?”

“You gave us quite a fright, dear. Perhaps a spot of tea would be in order, now wouldn’t it?” Miss Delancy asked gently. Her magnificent dark eyebrows drew together as she studied the two of them. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

“That’s quite alright, Miss Delancy.” Emma fought to keep her balance, but Verity still urged her towards the door. She glanced at the headmistress out of the corner of her eye. “Perhaps it would be best if I get Emma back to her room?”

“Of course, girls.”

“And Miss…”

“No need, my dear. No need whatsoever.” The milk of human kindness served by the headmistress stunned her to the core. What followed she had expected much sooner. “Tomorrow, though, I will want some answers on exactly what you lot were up to in the wee hours of the morning.” With a final stroke of Emma’s hair, her fingertips lingering in the lock of shock white, she gave a nod and opened the door for the girls. “Get some rest.”

The corridor was thankfully clear of automatons. Perhaps that was another grace bestowed from Miss Delancy. The halls were quiet, save for the occasional rapid scratching of feline claws against the floor. Some of the academy’s residents were in need of a grooming. Verity and Emma had just reached the girls’ dormitory, without incident, when Professor Vidmar emerged from the darkness. She almost dropped her friend in trying to reach reflexively for a non-existent weapon.

He raised his hands as if in surrender. “I’m sorry, Verity, I didn’t mean to frighten you. Miss Delancy wanted to make sure you both got back here alright.”

“We did, thank you. No Guardsmen about.” she said quickly. “Was that you?”

“Yes, as I said, Miss Delancy wanted you to get back to your rooms safely. Quite a miracle you lot slipped by them. I deactivated the automatons for the night.”

“Much appreciated,” Verity said with a slight curtsy. While that did explain the absence of hallway monitors, what she could not explain was the leap in the pit of her stomach when he said her name. She assured herself it was the product of a very distressing night.

Glancing across at Emma, she gave him what she hoped was a curt nod. “I’m just going to put her to bed, sir.” Trying her very best to be subtle, even with the exhausted Emma leaning against her, Verity forced a tight smile. She wanted to ask the professor so many questions, but Verity knew if even one of them got past her lips there would be all sorts of probing questions for her in return. “Then I’m going to get to sleep myself.”

As she walked Emma past him Vidmar touched Verity’s shoulder, and when she looked up to him he smiled warmly. “Try not to be too hard on Miss Delancy. She’s under incredible strain protecting this school and its students.”

With Vidmar standing there, her mind conjured his dark, brooding face mere inches from the headmistress’ face, her bosom heaving as he drew closer. The scent of his skin. The beauty of his smile. This smile. The one he currently wore with her. Was this what she had interrupted?

“I’m certain,” Verity began, her restraint very poor indeed, but she didn’t care, “Miss Delancy has plenty of outlets for her unwanted tension.”

“She said you were clever,” Vidmar said, his smile widening. “Lobelia was right.”

Clenching her jaw tight, Verity nodded at Vidmar, pushed open the door to the dormitory, and half-carried Emma in. The relief of the door shutting behind them was surprisingly satisfying.

“Wha—?” came a groggy voice from the other bed. “Emma?”

“Yes, Rose,” Verity said to Emma’s roommate, “it’s Emma and Verity. Just come back from the Infirmary.”

“S’alright?”

“A touch of a tummy ache, never you mind,” Verity said, gradually guiding her friend to her bed. “Goodnight, Rose.”

Rose mumbled something Verity could only assume to be “Good night” before she rolled over in her bed, giving her back to them.

The night’s revelations unveiled far more important things to think about than the professor who made her stomach leap about. Just his good looks and skill with automatons that held my attention, she assured herself. She was not likely to die of her odd fascination, unlike whatever evil lurked within the academy.

“I think I am going to chuck,” Emma whispered, clutching at her stomach as she came to a complete stop in the centre of the room. Verity guided her to the vanity and Emma leant against the drawers, her face hovering over basin. She couldn’t remember when she took a deep breath, but Verity felt a bit of relief. A little vomit on the posh interior was small price to pay for Emma to come back to herself.

After a few moments, Emma pulled herself erect and grinned. “No, I’m alright.” Even in the faint moonlight coming in through her room’s far window, Verity could make out that Emma looked awfully pale.

Also a faint gleam of green remained in her eyes.

Verity’s knees suddenly gave out from under her, and she managed to grab hold of a chair. The séance, what they had seen in the library, and what only she heard all came flooding back to her. It had been a real ghost. A real, true Egyptian ghost. It was the Silver Pharaoh, and something told her—without question—that it was here. She saw it, and almost touched the other side. Quite an adjustment for Verity to make in her world view.

Would there be any lingering effects? “Are you really?”

Emma furrowed her brow. “Am I what?”

“Are you alright?” Verity asked, sliding her arm under Emma’s as she helped her to bed. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

A shudder ran through her friend, and she hung her head. “I... I don’t know, Verity.”

The urge to shake Emma was strong, but Verity was fairly certain that would frighten the younger girl for little reward. “Try hard, Emma.” She glanced over to Rose and whispered, “You know who that was we saw tonight.”

Emma took a deep breath, and closed her eyes as she settled back into her pillow. “Psusennes,” she whispered. “The Silver Pharaoh, it was.”

“Yes, and you may be the only one who might have an idea where to find him.”

“What d’ya mean, Verity?”

“Emma, he touched you,” Verity said, touching the streak of white in her hair. “That sort of contact, so I’ve heard, sometimes establishes a connection. Did you feel anything like that?”

“I heard a whispering in my head, but I couldn’t understand him. Well, one word. Empire.”

“Empire? Do you think he was asking you about the British Empire?”

“Damfino. The rest that Pharaoh was spouting was all in some foreign language.”

“Did he show you anything? Maybe a pyramid, or his sarcophagus?”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “No, nothing like that. I remember…” She opened her eyes and sat up in the bed. “Anger. Oh, Verity, he was so angry. I’m sorry I can’t remember any more than that. It’s sort of like one of those muddled dreams without words to explain it.”

Verity hugged her tight before easing her back into bed. “Well, you know...sometimes dreams come back to us.” She pulled the sheets up around her neck. “Maybe you just need some real sleep and your brain will figure it out.”

“Do you have to go?” Emma asked in a small voice Verity had never heard from her before. It was not the sound of a survivor from the slums of London, but a child who had seen far too much of the inexplicable in one evening.

“No, not at all,” she said, sitting on the floor and taking Emma’s hand. “I’m going to stay right here while you sleep.”

The younger girl squeezed her hand, and seeming comforted, closed her eyes. “Good,” she whispered over a yawn. “I know you will keep me safe.”

Verity felt her smile tighten ever so slightly. After what she witnessed tonight, she could no longer be certain of anything.