A Matter of Circumstance and Celludrones (24 page)

The sudden pitch of chatter from the main chamber drew him back.
Everyone, including Neco, crowded around Armand and Ana. When he joined them,
he immediately saw the problem. Ana’s chest was open and her life cell had
almost run dry. As they watched, pale silver droplets fell from the splintered
cracks in the glass.

“Ana,” Lily whispered hoarsely.

“There are spare life cells in the stock closet,” Armand said, “but
they need at least sixteen hours to charge.”

Kelan rubbed his brow. “She’ll be dead by then.”

“Dead?” Lily shrieked.

Greyston hurried to her side. “Celludrones don’t die,” he said firmly.

Armand pointed a slender finger at the mass of entwined steel micro
tubing. “The memory sap circulates in these fibrous tubules, pumped very much
like the blood from our heart. All memory will be wiped clean if the sap
stagnates.” He looked up at Greyston. “We can restart her when the spare life
cell is charged. We’ll reload her with the initial data they were all created
with, but everything she’s learnt, everything she’s become in the intervening
years, will be lost. Celludrones do die.”

Greyston’s arm swooped around Lily’s waist as he felt her slacken
beside him. The strain on her face hollowed her cheeks and made her eyes appear
sunken. She looked as if she’d lost twenty pounds in the space of a heartbeat.

He gave Armand a growling look of disapproval. And to think Lily had
once accused
him
of having no tact. “Find something in this warren of
tricks and make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Could we connect her directly to the polarising station used to charge
the life cells?” asked Kelan.

“Not without adapter connectors.” Armand stepped back from the
workbench. “We should search the stock cabinets. Duncan must have made
provision for something like this.” His gaze landed on Puppy, tucked into
Evelyn’s side. “The automaton. The life cell doesn’t have the capacity for
regular function, but it will keep Ana’s memory sap pumping. Automatons don’t
retain memories that can be lost,” he quickly added at the worry creasing
Evelyn’s brow. “We’ll replace the life cell when we’re done and it will be
exactly the same.”

“Yes, of course.” Evelyn held the puppy to her face, burying her nose
in the squirming fur. She looked up at Greyston as she handed Puppy over. “Who
would ever have thought Puppy would be our hero?”

Chapter Fifteen

L
ily
observed her appearance in the full-length cheval mirror. The plain grey dress
provided last night by Cragloden’s housekeeper—she couldn’t recall the woman’s
name— didn’t quite reach her ankles and hung limply without the support of petticoats.
She’d washed her undergarments and dried them overnight on the heating pipes,
and somehow managed to ruin her silk stockings in the process.

The image staring back at her was rather sad. The inches of bare white
skin between the top of her short walking boots and the hem of the dress was
shocking. Her hair, twisted into a single braid and secured at the back, had
already fallen loose in places. The pitiful state of her person was
insignificant in the face of everything else, but it was a symptom of the rot
eating at the roots of her world.

What had Greyston said?
You have a remarkable inner strength.

The man was deluded. She wanted nothing more than to slide into bed,
hide beneath the covers and stay there until it was safe to emerge. Until the
dull, thudding ache she’d awoken with quietened inside her chest. Until the
demon had been evaded, trapped and banished. But never dead, according to
Kelan.
It’s not possible to kill a demon.
The demons, unfortunately,
didn’t appear to have the same problem with humans.

She spun away from the mirror and made her way out the bedroom. They’d
been put in the east wing, four bedrooms opening onto a shared drawing room.
The walls were hung with scenic watercolours and the furnishing was deep sofas
and ottomans in soft creams and warm browns. Lily thought to stop by Evelyn’s
room, but looking at the three other doors now, she couldn’t be sure she
wouldn’t be knocking on Greyston’s door instead.

The wall curved with the staircase into a marble foyer on the ground
floor. A housemaid, wearing an identical grey dress to Lily, looked up from her
dusting with a curious frown. The housekeeper must have informed the staff of
the situation, because she bobbed a curtsey as Lily passed. After two wrong
turns, she found a footman who kindly showed her to the breakfast room.

Greyston and Kelan were already there and both stood as she entered.
Greyston had exchanged his riding breeches for a pair of black leather trousers
that were, if not tight, certainly snug. His white linen shirt was buttoned up
to his throat with no neck cloth in sight. The rest of him, his hair, the
shadows beneath his eyes, the taut line of his jaw, made his clothes look
entirely civilised by comparison.

“Forgive the service,” Kelan said, coming around to pull a chair out
for her. His attire was impeccable, a dark suit with a pristine cotton shirt,
the jacket tailored to his wide shoulders and left unbuttoned for casual
elegance. “My staff are specifically trained to not hover unless I’m
entertaining.”

“Dressed like this, I feel a little as if I am the entertainment,” she
said with a small smile.

Kelan studied her. “Make a list for Mrs. Locke. She goes into town
every afternoon.”

“Thank you.” She glanced down at the chair, then back up into Kelan’s
eyes. They really were a proper navy. Cool and dark, so dark, she had to draw
herself away from gazing deep into them.

Kelan waved a hand over the spread of cold meats, rolls, cheeses and
fruit on the sideboard. “Please feel free to serve yourself, unless you’d
prefer a hot meal?”

Lily shook her head. “I was hoping to check on Ana before taking
breakfast.”

“Armand disconnected all her functions except for the memory sap.
There’s not much to see.”

“Ana’s fine,” Greyston said. “I was with her most of the night.”

Lily gave him a smile as she sank into her seat. Greyston was the last
person she’d have imagined keeping vigil at Ana’s bedside.

“Stop that,” he muttered, dropping into his own chair. “I didn’t stay
up to take care of her.”

“He spent the night flipping through scientific journals and poking
his way through every nook and cranny in the laboratory,” Kelan supplied as he
made his way to his seat. He turned to Greyston with a grin. “Armand was not
amused.”

“Then perhaps he should have gone to bed.”

“We never leave the tunnel unlocked.” Kelan leaned in slightly and
lowered his voice. “The code for the deadbolts is
BREAD FEEDS CRABS
,
replacing the missing letters with
F
. You’re welcome to come and go as
you please from now on.”

Lily reached for the pot of tea and poured herself a cup.
Bread
feeds crabs.
She sipped on her tea, was about to ask what letters were
missing, when Evelyn burst into the room, cinnamon curls plastered to her head
on the one side and springing wild on the other. She wore the ruby velvet habit
Lily had returned to her last night, scuffed and crumpled, but at least it fit
her.

Her wide eyes took in each person in the room. “I need to send an
Aether message immediately.”

 
“There’s a post office in the
town,” Lily recalled.

Kelan shook his head. “Monifeith is a small port town. The post office
doesn’t have an Aether Signaller.”

“If the hospital gets word to Devon,” groaned Evelyn, “he’ll never
forgive me.”

Lily cradled the warm cup close to her lips. “Why would the hospital
contact Devon?”

“They think Jean is the Duchess of Harchings,” Greyston supplied.

“I knew they’d call out the royal surgeons if they thought Jean was a
duchess and I just went right ahead—” Evelyn’s hand shot out “—doing the first
thing that came to mind. I even gave Jean my wedding ring. I’m such a silly
idiot.”

“Not silly at all,” Lily told her. “Remarkable and thoughtful. Devon
will understand once he learns the reason why.”

“No, he won’t.” Evelyn’s shoulders sagged.

“We have an Aether Signaller here.” Kelan stood and walked to Evelyn.
“It’s not on the government frequencies, but we are connected to a residence in
East Hampstead.” He offered his arm to her on the way out. “We’ll get your
message passed on, one way or another.”

“Thank goodness,” Lily declared. Despite her reassurances, she
happened to agree with Evelyn’s assessment of her husband.

“Yes, that does appear to be a McAllister speciality, solving the
world’s problems, big and small.”

“If you knew Lord Harchings, you’d appreciate this is one of the
bigger problems.”

“Aether messaging was originally implemented as an emergency
communication. The hospitals were amongst the first establishments fitted with
Aether Signallers.” Greyston slid lower in his chair. “Sending a message now
will do as much good as mending the fence after the last cow has escaped.”

He sounded more tired than cynical. And he was right, of course, now
that she thought about it. Still, it was better than doing nothing at all. She
gave him a sharp look. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

“You should eat something,” was his response.

Lily wasn’t the least bit hungry, but she drained the tea from her cup
and selected a warm roll from the sideboard. Who knew when she’d be needing her
strength? And what for? They’d discussed Lady Ostrich at the supper table last
night and Kelan had confirmed, somewhat enthusiastically, that they were
dealing with a demon.

Once she’d finished her meal, Greyston agreed to take her to the
laboratory to look in on Ana. “Did Kelan find out anything more about Lady
Ostrich?” she asked as they walked. He’d mentioned looking into the demon’s
genealogy, although she had no idea what that might entail.

“We’d probably be the last to know if he did.”

“He did give us unsupervised access to the laboratory,” she pointed
out.

“Opening one hand so that nobody notices what they’re hiding in the
fist behind their back is a McAllister trait,” Greyston said. “When Duncan
wanted to keep our celludrones secret, he sold an inferior patent for public
manufacture.”

He doesn’t trust Kelan at all, she realised. She wasn’t sure she did
either, and that bothered her. Accepting hospitality from a gentleman, placing
your safety into his keeping, hoping to high Heaven he’ll have a magic plan to
fight your demons for you, and all without the bond of absolute trust. It seemed
like a recipe for doom.

When she said as much to Greyston, he stopped walking and turned to
her.

 
“Kelan won’t share anything
with us that doesn’t serve his own interests and I’m doubtful of his motives,”
he said. “But he does think we’re instrumental in his demon war and we damned
sure need his help with Lady Ostrich. That puts us on the same side.”

“And all in the same place together again,” she murmured, thinking on
what Kelan had said about coincidences and the Cragloden gas explosion.

The image of Forleough, caught in a web of white fire, flashed inside
her head and her throat went dry. Kelan’s knowledge of demons, his training,
skills and relaxed confidence, his promise of a safe haven, all suddenly meant
a whole lot less than it had a second ago. None of that had helped Duncan
McAllister the last time a demon had descended on Cragloden. “There was no gas
explosion. Cragloden was destroyed by a demon, maybe even by Lady Ostrich
herself.”

“That does seem most likely,” Greyston said smoothly, giving the
impression he’d mulled this over thoroughly and reached the same conclusion
long before she’d arrived at it. “Considering the nature of Duncan’s army, of
his work, who else would gain from wiping it out with one clean swoop?”

“History’s repeating itself and what has really changed? You saw what
Lady Ostrich did to Forleough. She’ll come for Cragloden.” Lily felt it in her
bones. They hadn’t escaped the demon witch. They’d simply delayed the
inevitable. “We know how this ends.”

“I’ve changed.” His jaw tensed. “At the age of fifteen, I couldn’t
time-run, so there’s a new advantage. Every time we escape a demon, earns us
another chance to learn from our mistakes.” He brought his hand to her face, as
if to stroke her cheek, or perhaps brush away some of the many curls that had
escaped her inadequate braid.

She looked into his eyes and saw concern there, the intent to offer
her a little comfort or reassurance with his touch.

But he swung his arm back to his side without so much as a fleeting
stroke. “Cragloden has changed, too, learnt from the past. The protection
shield covers Cragloden like a bubble and that’s more than science.”

“Whatever it is, didn’t keep us out.”

“Kelan said something about weaving protection from the ruins of the
old castle.” He started moving again, taking them down the steps to the tunnel.

Lily’s nose crinkled. “A spell?”

“The McAllisters are scientists, not witches.” He glanced at her.
“Maybe he found a way to harness residual demon energy from the ruins and turn
their own power against them.”

“That’s the worst case of wishful thinking I’ve ever heard,” she said,
smiling at the ridiculousness of it.

“It would be prophetic justice, wouldn’t it?” Greyston’s grin echoed
her amusement for a moment, then, as his grin faded, she saw the weariness
sculptured into his face, clouding his eyes and burning deep. “The shield isn’t
meant to keep humans out, only demons. Cragloden was the safest place I could
think of to bring you and I still think it was the right decision.”

“You’re not responsible for me,” she said softly, not sure why, but
feeling a desperate urgency for him to know that, to believe it. “You didn’t
involve me in this danger and if anything happens to me, it’s not your fault.”