Five

Nine hours. A thousand stations. A window that opened a bare few inches, and only let in Saharan gusts and an excess of smuts. Long before the final approach to Sheerside Station, Eluned, Eleri and Griff Tenning had been reduced to puddles on the seats.

"Nothing Aunt Arianne can do to us will match the trip here," Eluned said, easing a finger beneath the sweaty itch of straps holding on her right arm.

"Could stand us in the sun another hour," Eleri replied, tilting her head back as she considered the possibilities. "Give us more liver paste sandwiches."

"Don't talk about those sandwiches." Eluned swallowed a bubble of oily gas, and checked on Griff, lying on the opposite seat. He never travelled well.

"She should be glad," Griff said. "And she doesn't get to punish us."

He'd said the same thing, hours earlier, but the defiance had been worn down by the long day, and he sounded half his thirteen years.

Aunt Arianne didn't seem the type to hand out strict punishments, but it was hard to be sure. They knew so little about her, and Eluned hadn't been in a state to pay much attention in the first days after their Aunt had brought the news, or during the funeral. Since then, one of the few things Eluned had been able to remember from before had been her mother's reaction to one of Aunt Arianne's rare letters: pure exasperation. "Your sister flits around the Continent as if the world was arranged for her entertainment. Never doing anything of value, or caring to take a true interest."

And Aunt Arianne hadn't seemed to care, not deeply and properly. She hadn't cried at all, or even hugged them more than once—not that they would have welcomed it if she'd pretended they were close, like real family.

Her endless calm was infuriating, but finding the truth too important for Eluned to jeopardise by giving in to anger. And at least Aunt Arianne had believed them when they'd insisted it couldn't be an accident, had become an ally, and not drawn back on finding a way to get into Sheerside.

"Suppose they have monster attacks very often?" Eleri asked, fanning Griff with the newspaper they'd spent their last hoarded coin on that morning. "Only make a fuss about them if Princess Leodhild is involved?"

Griff didn't even respond.

"I can see the Nomal House pyramid." Eluned pressed her face to the compartment window to improve the angle of her view. Vampires used pyramids to intensify their powers, and since Shu vampires controlled the weather, the home of the Southern Nomarch was sure to need one as large as this.

Eleri paused in fanning. "The Aquae Sulis one in the distance again?"

"The capping stone is a different colour. It's very close. We must be right on the station."

As if in response, the train commenced the series of clanks that signalled a halt, and Eleri joined Eluned at the window. Griff put his arms over his face and breathed deeply. Not a good sign. Griff, for all the enormous energy he could expend, was not robust or resilient, and the past few months had strained his nerves to a high pitch. Too much upset produced fevers, and Eluned couldn't guess how the hot day and uncertainty would mix with the more ordinary travel sickness.

"It will be something to stay at a house that has its own station," she said, dividing her attention between her brother and the first glimpse of platform. "I wonder how far it is from the station to the main building?"

"A mile and a quarter," Griff said immediately. "There's a service village around the station. Twenty-two structures. The village is on a hill, and there's a view of Sheerside House from the station."

He'd told them so at the beginning of the journey, and the reminder of the architectural treat waiting for him was enough to make him sit up and study again the rough map he'd already drawn up of the locale.

"Look at that peculiar woman with the umbrella and veil," Eluned said. "In this heat! She...oh."

"It's the Aunt. Recognise the dress."

Eleri's flat pronouncement brought Griff to the window, but the slowing train had already juddered past.

"Check you haven't left anything under the seats," Eluned said, moving briskly on from this oddity. "And straighten your shendy, Griff."

Griff tugged his knee-length red and blue skirt so the blue panels once again faced front and back, then swiped a foot under the seats in search of dropped valuables, collecting the pencil and rubber band the action produced. There was little else—they'd been ready since Aquae Sulis, failing to anticipate how long the last few stations would take in an unexpectedly strong afternoon wind storm. At least the final leg had lacked the couple who had shared their compartment most of the way from Caerlleon, all surreptitious stares and whispers.

"Tennings Together," Eluned muttered, and unlatched the compartment door as the train jerked to a halt. The remaining traces of the afternoon's hot wind whisked around them, not exactly pleasant, but an improvement by several degrees on the heat of the compartment.

A rambling pink-and-white rose smothered the stone fence immediately in front of them, most of the petals missing or scorched brown by the winds. Eluned contemplated it for a moment of disappointment and fellow feeling, then turned to face the aunt who—for the next few years at least—had far too much say in their choices. Shaded by a sturdy black umbrella, a wide-brimmed summer hat, and a draping of opaque veil that hung past her shoulders, she presented a bizarre picture, especially compared to the tall, beautifully dressed man leading her toward them.

"I see," Eleri said. "Newly bound. Sensitive to light."

"This is certainly not a fashion statement," their aunt said. "You three look thoroughly cooked, and well past done. We'd best fix that first. Evelyn will make sure your luggage has arrived. Anything other than the three school trunks?"

The lightly amused, untroubled voice bothered Eluned enormously. Impossible not to think of all the times they'd arrived home from school before, to be enveloped in warm hugs and excited chatter from people who loved them, instead of this vaguely entertained stranger.

At their nods, their aunt continued. "Past the end of the platform there's a picnic set out beneath a very large tree. Go wait there. Hold off eating."

The last thing Eluned thought she wanted to do was eat, but the shade cast by the towering beech had a revivifying effect, enough for her to at least cast a speculative eye over a positively sumptuous collection of dishes.

"I could be sick all over her," Griff began appreciatively, but then his attention was caught by the view. The station stood at the lip of a small valley, and across a vividly green gap an enormous building crowned the horizon. It was too distant to make out details, but more than enough to distract.

Eluned ran fingers through her short blond hair, then glanced up as her twin reached out to shift the right sleeve of Eluned's tunic, exposing her upper arm. The skin around the liner and padded socket was red and chafed.

"Should have had the new arm by now," Eleri said.

"It's the heat, not the fit." Eluned pulled her tunic's neck to one side, and craned to see the harness straps without triggering any of the arm's functions. They weren't so tight as to cut into her, but they'd definitely rubbed.

The question of strapping was postponed by their aunt's return, lugging a full bucket and accompanied by a uniformed man carrying another two.

"Griff, do you have anything in your pockets you'd rather not get wet?"

"No," Griff said, eyeing the buckets with interest as he patted the sides of his shendy to make sure.

"Excellent. Stand over here, where the water will drain."

After a nod of thanks to the station master, Aunt Arianne upended her entire bucket over Griff, who gasped and then wriggled all over, sending water droplets in every direction. Not reacting to the secondary shower, Aunt Arianne picked up another bucket.

"Eleri next. Eluned, there's a convenience in the station if you would prefer not to wet your arm."

Eluned hesitated only a moment, then headed into the billow of steam from the departing train, seeking out the room. She had long carried a glass shield of pride to help her to never flinch from stares, but after a hot and weary day that shield's weight was almost beyond bearing. Still she unfastened her dress, removed the dark wood and pale metal arm, and did not let herself think of the station master, and the rather handsome man called Evelyn, and a house full of strangers.

When Eluned returned, and had handed the arm to Eleri, their aunt hoisted the third bucket. The water felt icy, shocking away any lingering queasiness, and then there were enamel mugs full of the same cool water, and stone bottles of ginger beer to pour.

"We have an hour before we're due to leave," Aunt Arianne said. "Plenty of time to dry off and recover. We'll be on our way before it starts to rain."

Griff looked up at the unspoiled blue of the sky, and then at their veiled aunt. "You can tell? That it's going to rain?"

"According to Evelyn, Lord Msrah has decided it will rain, since the large holes in Sheerside House have been sufficiently patched. Evelyn—Dem Carstairs—is one of Lord Msrah's Bound, and will be taking a tactfully long time over your luggage, to allow us a chance to talk."

Griff scowled and grabbed a sticky bun before turning to face across the valley. "The whole thing was silly. All that fuss about a window."

"It's complicated—" Eluned began. She did not want to talk about the false sympathy, the way certain people had acted as if Eluned particularly was a danger to herself: someone whose parents were so inept they'd dropped an automaton on their own heads.

"Looking for an excuse to get rid of us," Eleri said. "Decided we lowered the tone. Doesn't matter. Important thing is here."

"Our goal is our first concern, that's true enough," Aunt Arianne said, to Eluned's surprise.

"You're not mad?"

Eluned could read nothing from the slight sway of the veil, and wished their aunt would take it off. She had trouble enough reading this near-stranger as it was.

"If you make a habit of throwing away your tuition, I'll respond by sending you to cheaper schools, but in the short term there are other matters to focus on. To which point, I may have made some progress, but have also suffered a significant set-back. I am Bound, but not to Lord Msrah."

Eleri dropped her mug, and Griff choked on the remains of his bun.

"How?" Eluned managed, and listened to a story about a monster falling through the ceiling, and a vampire so badly injured he had turned on the nearest source of blood and ka and taken without limit. The law called attacks like that exsanguincies and—unless someone truly important had been killed—only fined the vampire. But it would still mean an awkward fuss, and so Aunt Arianne's vampire had used a bonding to try to keep her alive.

"Messy," Eleri commented, managing in her usual abbreviated way to encompass all and nothing of what Eluned burned to say. "What's the progress?"

"A Lyndsey. Or a Lynsey, rather. The connection is tenuous—Lynsey is the sister of a friend of Dem Carstairs—but a few pointed questions have produced no others. She is going to call on us in London."

"We're going to London? Now?"

Eluned struggled to keep her dismay out of her voice, while Griff said: "There was something worse," and glared openly.

"When the Express arrives," their aunt replied, her cool voice never wavering, even though the swaying veil suggested she'd turned to look directly at Griff. "To a mystery destination, which we will track down tomorrow morning. The vampire involved, who is known as Comfrey Makepeace, has connections that may be useful to us, if he can be brought to exercise them. But before we reach that point, I wanted to ask you about Monsieur Doré, Eleri."

"You found it then." Eleri glanced at Eluned, then back at their aunt. "Thought it better not to show you that until you'd stopped selling everything."

The sale of the house and workshop had been a sore point with Eleri in particular, and one reason for not telling Aunt Arianne the whole story.

"That huge chunk of fulgite was related to the automaton that's missing?"

"Commission came with two pieces of fulgite the same size and shape, possibly artificial. Seemed to take charge, but wouldn't release it consistently, and said to be haunted. Mother was asked to investigate normalising the release, design automaton that self-activates."

"So the second piece—?"

"Gone like the Commissions Book and the automaton."

This was the test moment, far more than any reaction their aunt might have to their expulsion. All along they'd kept the existence of the fulgite from her, telling her only about a mysterious commission for an automaton. Not truly because they were worried she'd sell the fulgite, but because she was a stranger, and their mother had thought her unreliable.

All Aunt Arianne said was: "Why did you send Monsieur Doré with me, Eleri?"

"Ran out of ideas to make it release the charge. And problems at school. No place to keep it safe."

Their aunt's response was cut short by Griff, twisting sharply away from his contemplation of Sheerside House to blurt in a spray of crumbs: "Do we really have to go to London? Now?"

The veil swayed again. "Your father was a bad traveller as well. Yes, we have to go to London. Dem Makepeace...Dem Makepeace was not able to see me through this bonding, and I need to make contact with him before it takes me rather further than I care for." She fished in a pocket of her dress and tossed a labelled key to Griff. "Think of it as a treasure hunt, with that our only clue. The reward for success is not having a vampire for an aunt."

The man who was Lord Msrah's Bound came back before they could properly react to this calm announcement, and Aunt Arianne introduced each of them in turn.

"A pleasure," Dem Carstairs said, drawing his sandal-shod feet together and bowing. In his calf-length pleated shendy and light tunic he looked like he was never anything but completely unruffled, and his gaze didn't linger any longer on Eluned than it did on Eleri and Griff. Of course, Aunt Arianne had probably warned him.

"Would Lord Msrah allow me to return with Griff?" Aunt Arianne asked. "He has a particular interest in architecture, and was looking forward to Sheerside House enormously."

Dem Carstairs immediately volunteered to give Griff a personal tour, and entertained them with problems caused by the Nomal House's convoluted structure, and how often guests 'looking for the bathroom' ended up in Lord Msrah's private office in the Underhouse. He completely diverted Griff, and Eluned was glad to sit in the shade and try not think about sweltering carriages.

"Is that the storm or the train?"

Aunt Arianne's question broke Eluned out of a threatened doze, and she looked over the vivid green valley to discover a bank of black clouds crashing across the sky. But it wasn't distant thunder they could hear.

"It's a Dragon!"

Bad humour entirely forgotten, Griff surged to his feet and raced back to the platform, pelting at full speed to keep pace with the ornate engine steaming to a halt.

There were only three dragon engines in Prytennia—the newest and the best, and beautifully constructed in honour of the three dragons who slept beneath the land. Eluned and Eleri couldn't resist chasing Griff down and joining him in admiring the beautiful flowing lines of the engine, all black and silver in honour of the Sulevia Seolfor, who tended the dragons and could draw on their pale fire.

"Why is it Nimelleth?" Griff shouted, over the hiss of venting steam. "Shouldn't it be the Dragon of the South?"

Despite the heat of the day, they crowded around the heavy engine and Eleri, as usual, somehow communicated a technical interest to the driver and won them a brief invitation into the dragon's head to admire the boiler: fulquus-powered rather than using coal.

"...swapped stokers for a guard," the driver was saying, when Eluned followed Griff and their sister, and the man who had lent a hand to haul them up patted the twin guns at his belt.

"Is it true the new engines won't use steam at all?" Eleri asked. "Or fulgite?"

"The short-haul ones servicing London won't," the driver agreed, swiping a handkerchief across her ruddy face. "The ones they're digging tunnels for will run on special charged tracks. Though if you followed the line back, you'd still find steam and coal behind the power. It's simply the delivery that will be different."

"Less easily stolen," said the guard, with a glance toward the heavily-reinforced hatch that shielded the train's fulgite.

"Have you been raided?" Eluned asked, eyeing the man's weaponry with interest.

"Not yet the Dragons. But the exchange stations where we swap out our spent fulgite are having some fine and exciting nights."

"Best get to your compartment," the driver advised. "This is only a short stop. You'll see London as the sun sets."

Reluctantly they clambered down and peered along the length of the train for any glimpse of Aunt Arianne. No sign.

"Through-way carriages," Eleri said, pleased. "We won't be stuck in the one compartment."

Before they could clamber into the nearest carriage, the tall Dem Carstairs emerged from the farthest and beckoned, and they raced all the way down again. He laughed as they panted up.

"The cooling-down exercise seems to have been wasted. Though the rain should make up the difference. Pile on, pile on, before you're left behind. I shall hope to see you again, for a tour in more pleasant weather."

As Griff and Eleri obeyed, Eluned paused to hold out her hand, because she would not let herself be rude, no matter how daunted she happened to be. "Thank you for the lunch."

"My pleasure." He took her hand and bowed over it, even though it was her left and that usually caused at least a moment's hesitation. Then, lowering his voice, he added: "Your Aunt appears determined not to show it, but she suffered a very violent and painful attack, one that nearly took her life. Look after her."

He handed Eluned up before she could properly react, as the guard came along to close the door.

"Step to your right, dama," the guard said, as Eluned caught an echo of Griff's voice, and headed along the narrow corridor to their compartment.

"First class, Ned!" Griff cried, from his position perched on the curving back of one of the benches lining the walls, so sumptuous they looked like rows of winged-back chairs. "And see this?"

He reached up to not quite touch the waving woven triangle in the upper corner of the wide compartment.

"Simple automation," Eleri commented, pointing out another in the opposite corner. "Electric lighting, too. Whole train's been designed to take advantage of the fulgite."

A shudder and a jolt warned of departure and their Aunt, standing at the window, lifted a hand in farewell. A roll of thunder accompanied the response from Dem Carstairs, and heavy drops struck the glass as the train pulled away.

"That should cool matters down considerably," Aunt Arianne said, not sounding as if she'd been recently attacked by anything more than mild curiosity.

Their mother had once said their aunt lacked any form of sensibility, so perhaps nearly dying was the kind of thing she could simply take in her stride. But whatever the case, Eluned doubted she was immune to heat.

"You must be boiling under all that, Aunt Arianne. If we pull the blinds and turn out the lights, will it be dark enough for you?"

The veil swayed ambiguously, and the subsequent: "It's worth a try," came in the same tone, but even so Eluned was suddenly certain that she'd surprised their aunt. And that was not a nice realisation.

Resolving to do better, she jabbed Griff to get him to come down, and double-checked their belongings were sufficiently stable as the train picked up speed. The guard passed, but merely tipped his hat rather than asking for tickets, and then showed Eluned the trick to blocking the windows and damping the lights. The result was so effective it was clear the compartment had been modified with vampires in mind.

"The Nomarch must use it," Eluned said, finishing her thought aloud as she plumped into one of the seats and contemplated in the half-light the basket containing the remains of their picnic, ensconced on the seat opposite. A carpet bag was tucked beside it, and she could make out the shape of her own wooden fingers curling shyly over the top.

"Griff, please check the compartments to either side of us," Aunt Arianne said, stripping off her gloves, then lifting hat and veil together.

"Right."

Griff banged the door open carelessly, and even though it wasn't bright out in the storm-gloomed corridor, their aunt still flinched and threw up a hand. But then dropped it as the door bounced shut once again, remarking: "Not as bad as before."

"You—" Eluned reached out and pushed the corridor door wider again, so the light fell across their aunt's face.

"This Makepeace person a Thoth-den?" Eleri asked.

"No, one of the rarer lines, but all vampires and Bound enjoy some level of preservation." Aunt Arianne touched her cheek, then her fingers strayed down to her throat before dropping. "I foresee some highly entertaining conversations thanks to this, but probably a few annoying misunderstandings as well."

Aunt Arianne was four years younger than Father, which made her quite old, almost thirty-seven. She shared Griff and Father's honey-brown hair, and wore a certain air of authority and sophistication, but now lacked the faint imperfections of skin, and minute sagging that came along with years. It was already difficult to call this woman 'Aunt', but it would be doubly so now.

"Barely look seventeen," Eleri said.

"Oh, it's not that bad, surely? I was thinking twenty, or at least nineteen. Seventeen, and I'll get lectures when I go out dancing." Aunt Arianne touched her throat again, then shook her head. "Not a development I can justly complain about. What's the situation, Griff?"

Griff, ducking under Eluned's arm, said: "There's a lady in the very end compartment. The other two are empty."

"Good. The noise of the rain should mean even a Bound would have trouble from that distance. Close the door. I want to get back to the subject at hand."

"This Lynsey person?" Eluned asked, sitting down.

"No, Monsieur Doré. You fitted him out to test the haunted automaton stories?"

"Yes. No set routines, merely as wide a range of possible movement as I could manage." Eleri bounced her heel absently. "No response. In other devices, the fulgite releases a charge, but often stops unexpectedly."

"How long did you test the automaton's response?"

"Finished the modifications ten days ago."

"It never did anything." The motion of the train was having its usual effect on Griff's mood.

"Null result, not proof of the negative."

"Not entirely null, either," Aunt Arianne said. "He didn't move a great deal, but Monsieur Doré most certainly gave me a passing acquaintance with a 'haunted' automaton. My response was to remove the fulgite, and now that I've had time to think it over, it brings with it a possible reason for why a large and very dangerous living statue would come bounding through a ceiling into my room."

Eluned had wondered about that, ever since Aunt Arianne had told them she'd been attacked. "That thing was after the fulgite?"

"Perhaps. And if that proves to be the case, then what did the other one want..."

Eluned and Eleri finished her sentence in chorus: "...with Princess Leodhild?"