Labyrinth Gate

by Kate Elliott

  “Maybe they don’t speak English,” said Sanjay as he dressed. “Maybe we just perceive whatever they speak as English. Maybe they’re really speaking Hindi.”

  “Or Urdu?”

  “In any case, you know this is all your fault.”

  Chryse laughed. “I didn’t until you reminded me. Why?”

  “You’re the one who said you wanted our honeymoon to be an adventure.”

  “But you’re the one who said we should go somewhere completely different.”

  They both grinned.

  “I feel so guilty,” said Chryse finally.

  “Guilty?”

  She shrugged. “Last night I was too stunned to think. But now it’s morning and we’re safe—I’m excited, Sanjay. We haven’t the faintest idea where we are, and I’m not sure I care. It really is an adventure.”

  “But why guilty?”

  “What about Anna? She has all the presents, and she’ll expect us to pick them up.”

  “Not for two weeks. No one will expect to hear from us for two weeks.”

  “And when the two weeks are up? Anna will call your parents, they’ll call mine, and mine will call the police.”

  He sighed and sank down on the bed. “You’re right. We’ll just have to find out where we are, how we got here, and how to get back.”

  Chryse sighed, an echo, and sat down beside him. “Maybe finding out how to get home means we can get back here again.” With one foot she traced the bright geometric pattern of the carpet morosely. “It seems a pity to have to leave before we have a chance to explore.”

  “We’ll have to do what we can in the time we’re here,” said Sanjay, working one hand up the sleeve of her gown. “For instance, they should have put the lace—” He shifted it on her so that a different patch of skin showed through. “—there.”

  She pulled him down on the bed.

  This time, when a knock interrupted them, Chryse hid behind the bed curtains and Sanjay stood. The door opened to reveal a young man in clothes that resembled a uniform.

  “Begging pardon, Monsieur,” he said. “When you and Madame are ready, I’m to show you to the breakfast room.”

  “Certainly,” said Sanjay. “We’ll be out in a moment.”

  “Is he gone?” asked Chryse as the door shut.

  “Coward,” said Sanjay.

  “I take back everything I said about having servants. You never get any privacy.”

  “What did you say about having servants?” he asked as she went into her dressing room.

  “I don’t remember,” she called. “But I’m sure I said something.”

  After a few minutes Chryse reappeared in a calf-length skirt and a sweater and boots. “Not very nineteenth-century.” She regarded Sanjay’s jeans and shirt. “But we’re neat and clean. Good thing I brought a skirt.”

  “Kate—Miss Cathcart—was wearing trousers.”

  “I’ll take bets that isn’t usual. I’m starving.”

  “Madame.” With an elaborate gesture he offered her his arm. “Shall we go down?”

  Aunt Laetitia and Kate were already in the breakfast room, arguing good-naturedly over something to do with a regent, a succession, and a possible royal marriage for an heir.

  “Ah,” said Aunt Laetitia as the butler showed Chryse and Sanjay in. “I hope you rested well.” She lifted a monocle to her eye and examined their clothing, but mercifully said nothing.

  “Very well, thank you,” said Chryse. “Good morning, Miss Cathcart.”

  “Hell in a basket,” exclaimed that woman. “Call me Kate, please. I only endure the other title from Lady Trent because I daren’t offend her by demanding she call me anything else.”

  “I am relieved,” said Aunt Laetitia, “that your education at least included the basic respect for one’s elders that was expected in my youth and is sadly lacking in young people today.”

  Kate merely grinned. She still wore men’s clothing, but her suit was less formal than the unrelieved black and white of the night before.

  “We can’t thank you enough for helping us last night,” began Sanjay.

  “Good gracious,” said Aunt Laetitia. “Please eat your breakfast first. I never advise serious talk on an empty stomach. It only leads to hasty decisions.”

  Chryse and Sanjay acquiesced gratefully. The sidetable was lined with an abundance of food: meats, breads, fruits, and sauces. They had almost finished when Lord Vole entered. He looked distinctly under the weather.

  “Ah, Julian,” said his aunt. “Tell me if I’m speaking too loudly. Mistress Cook has prepared your favorite meat sausages.”

  Had he been able to turn green, he would have. “Perhaps a thin slice of bread and some tea, Aunt,” he said in a strained voice as he sank into a chair.

  “Never could hold his liquor,” said Kate to the room at large.

  “Good morning,” he continued weakly, inclining his head as slightly as possible towards Chryse and Sanjay.

  “Sorry to see you’re not feeling well,” said Sanjay. “My mother has a recipe that she often gives to people suffering the after-effects of drink. If I could—”

  “Is she a healer?” asked Aunt Laetitia. “Let me call Master Butler and he can convey your recipe to Mistress Cook.”

  Sanjay hesitated. “I could just as well—” faltered, and finished. “—of course.”

  When the butler returned some minutes later, glass in hand, both Kate and Lady Trent examined the contents of the glass with interest.

  “That looks utterly disgusting,” said Kate with satisfaction. “Drink it up, Julian.”

  By the time Aunt Laetitia ushered them into the parlour next door, Julian had recovered most of his usual complexion, and Chryse remembered that she had thought him very attractive on their first meeting.

  “Now,” said Aunt Laetitia as they disposed themselves on the sofas and chairs that ringed a small table in the center of the room. “That you are foreigners I can certainly believe. Monsieur Mukerji’s coloring is obviously that of a native of the East Seas, and most likely Indhya. Madame Lissagaray I cannot place so easily, although her height and the extreme lightness of her hair—I have heard that across the Western Ocean in the Vesputian colonies the women grow as tall as the men, and the men as tall as giants. An unlikely tale, but in any case.” She paused to clear her throat. “Perhaps we should start by asking what brought you to Heffield.”

  “Heffield?”

  Even Julian, still recovering, regarded Sanjay in some astonishment. “You’re in Heffield.”

  “I see,” said Sanjay slowly. “This city.”

  “Evidently we shall have to start at a more basic level.” Aunt Laetitia’s tone was amused.

  “Of course,” said Chryse suddenly. “Sanjay! What brought us here?” He looked at her and nodded abruptly. “Excuse me a moment.” She rose. “I must get something that I can only hope will explain what we cannot.”

  She returned, carrying the velvet pouch. “I believe these brought us.” She removed the cards from the pouch and spread them out on the low table.

  “Did you get the—” Sanjay began.

  “Yes.” She lay the Gate down on top.

  “May the Son bless us.” Aunt Laetitia put a hand to her bosom.

  Kate stood up and bent over the table. “That’s a remarkably fine set,” she breathed, overcome with an emotion Chryse could not identify. “May I touch them?”

  “Of course.”

  Kate knelt before the table and with an obviously experienced hand collected them together and dealt them out on the table so that the cards fell into a pattern. “Bloody hell,” she murmured under her breath as she examined each card, both sides, before placing it.

  “That’s the finest deck of Gates I’ve ever seen,” said Julian, leaning forward to watch Kate’s movements.

  “SACU, or UCAS,” said Aunt Laetitia in a low voice. “It is double-sided, Julian.” She examined Chryse and Sanjay with a new light in her eye. “I have heard of double-sid
ed Gates, but never seen one. It is said to contain so much power that even unused it is dangerous.”

  “What does sacu mean?” asked Chryse. “And what ‘gates’ do you mean?”

  This question brought her the immediate attention of all three.

  “Oh dear,” said Aunt Laetitia.

  Julian merely looked startled.

  “I think,” said Kate, laying the last card, the Gate, out between two others, “that we will have to start from the beginning.” She looked at Aunt Laetitia, who nodded.

  “This deck is called the Gates,” said Kate. “Or, academically, the SACU. I’ve also heard of the UCAS, the other side, but never known anyone who has seen a set.” She swept her hand, palm open, over the cards. “It starts here, with the Gate set between the cards of Dawn and Dusk, beginning and ending, youth and age. These three cards are the centerpiece, the hinge, of the deck.”

  “Out from the hinge is the round, the wheel of the year, known to most of us as the eight holidays. These eight cards are set in a circle, so. They begin and end with the Festival of Lights, the Winter Solstice—”

  “Yesterday!” said Chryse.

  “Exactly. And progress through the year: The Festival of Lights, Twin’s Faire, Sower’s Day, the Feast of Somorhas, High Summer’s Eve, Hunter’s Run, the Harvest Faire, Lord Death’s Progress, and back to the Festival of Lights.

  “Below the circle of the year lies the journey, the thirteen months. These thirteen cards form a progressive line: the Hut, the Village, the Road, the Town Square, the Temple, the Tower, the Harbour, the City, the Great Hall, the Garden, the Barrow, the Labyrinth—” Here she paused, staring for a moment at the card, a maze of walls in which a tiny figure, perhaps a child, was about to lose its way. “—and the Castle.”

  “And the face cards,” said Chryse, “they’re above the circle.”

  “The days of the month,” said Kate. “But you’re missing one, the Sinner, the fifth day of the first week.”

  “Ah, I see,” said Aunt Laetitia. “The card properly called the Queen, or Mistress, of the Underworld. This must be a very old deck. I see cards here that are archaic, medieval. Your archer is naked, while we always see her clothed. And this card of a child in rags, the Beggar, is certainly medieval, or older.”

  “Yes,” said Kate. “That should be the Monk.”

  “Not ‘should be’,” said Aunt Laetitia. “‘Is now,’ but was not years ago. I have seen a medieval deck. You see, the days of the month are most changeable. The four weeks: the Queens, the Kings, the Knights, and the Magi, combine with the seven directions to identify the twenty-eight days of the month.”

  “Seven directions?” asked Sanjay.

  “Of course,” said Kate. “East, South, Heaven, the Wheel, Underworld, North, and West. So you have, for instance, the King of the West who is the Hunter, the Knight of the South who is the Crusader, and the Queen of Heaven.”

  “What direction is the wheel?”

  “The center. The most powerful card of each week, each suit. Here is the Empress of Bounty, ruling over the Queens, and the Emperor of Reason over the Kings. The Master of Waters over the Knights, and last, the Angel of War.”

  “Ruling over the Magi,” said Sanjay as Kate touched a card with an armored woman advancing, sword out, light radiating around her.

  “And so on for the other days,” said Kate.

  “I know which one is missing,” said Chryse suddenly. “I showed it to you, Sanjay. The blindfolded woman running through that grim forest.”

  Kate and Julian merely stared at her, uncomprehending. But Aunt Laetitia crossed herself. It was a movement so instinctive and quick, but so identifiable, that all the others recognized it.

  “Aunt?” said Julian. “I’d never taken you for a devout churchwoman before.”

  “I’ve never heard of a blindfolded woman,” said Kate. “The card you’re missing is the one called the Sinner. The repentant knight kneeling before an image of Our Lady, pledging her service for her sins. I always thought it was based on those old medieval stained-glass windows of Saint Maretha’s legend.”

  “Some things it is as well not to know,” said Aunt Laetitia. “But when I was a girl the cult of the Daughter was stronger than it is now. The young bloods who were rich and bored took to her worship, as a kind of game, instead of to drink. Had they truly understood what they were doing, that it was no game, they would have taken to drink. The woman in the forest is Her card, the Dreamer, the true Queen of the Underworld, Mistress of the Labyrinth. The Sinner came much later.”

  “Bloody hell,” breathed Kate.

  “Well, Aunt,” said Julian expressively. “I see there is a great deal more to your past than even Grandmama told me.”

  “Your sainted grandmother,” said Aunt Laetitia severely, “was well able to keep a closed book, thank the Lady. In any case, that card is just as well lost, to my mind.”

  “Except that it leaves the deck incomplete,” said Kate. “And therefore lessens its power.”

  “We’re just looking at one side,” said Chryse. “You said a double-sided deck of Gates is more powerful, both—what was it?—SACU and UCAS. What is the difference?” She picked up the last of the face cards, a woman burning at the stake, and turned it over to reveal a bird rising from the flames.

  Kate shrugged and looked at Aunt Laetitia. “I’m out of my depth. I’ve only learned the minor arts of the Gates.”

  Aunt Laetitia extended her hand, a patrician gesture, and Chryse gave her the card she was holding. “The UCAS is the wild magic, the ancient seed, all of nature. It is forgotten now, and best left so, except by the northerners, whose name we do not speak and whose lands remain wild and untamed. I do not know how the UCAS is used, but I do know that unlike the SACU it is impossible to control. It is said that centuries ago, before the coming of the Mother of All Peace and Her Son, an old and terrible civilization ruled on this island, and the SACU were formed to control magic. But that control also limited the amount of power any one mage could use.”

  “Do you really believe that old legend of Pariam’s fall?” asked Kate. “The destruction of the city by famine and plague and of the princess who killed herself to save a man who didn’t even love her?”

  “I do,” said Julian unexpectedly. “Perhaps not all of it, or even all the destruction and sickness part, but there was a civilization here, before ours. I’ve introduced you to Professor Farr, haven’t I?”

  “That old cracked pot?”

  “He’s a scientist, Kate.”

  “Who digs in the ground?”

  “Yes. He’s found fragments of old writing and pieces of ancient paintings, and dug up part of an old city in the Midlands that he claims is part of that old civilization. He even claims to know where the original city of the labyrinth is.”

  “And the treasure of the labyrinth, too, the one she supposedly hid?” retorted Kate, openly skeptical now. “Why doesn’t he just go dig it up and bring it back? He’d be rich.”

  “An expedition of that kind can be very expensive, and prolonged,” said Sanjay.

  “You know of his work?” asked Julian. “I find it fascinating.”

  “Not of Professor Farr, but I know of the kind of work he does—exploring for ancient cities and artifacts. Digging up the past, really.”

  “Exactly!” said Julian. “And Farr has proof that a civilization we no longer know of once flourished here—farther north really, but on this island.”

  “Smoke leads to fire,” said Aunt Laetitia. “Really, Julian, I hadn’t realized that you extended yourself to such strenuous intellectual activities. I am pleased.”

  “Thank you, Aunt,” he murmured.

  “Of course he hasn’t mentioned the niece and the daughter of Professor Farr, has he?” said Kate. “I met them as well. The daughter is a trifle serious and scholarly to be of that sort of interest, but the niece—quite a beauty.”

  “Quite indigent,” interposed Julian. “As is Farr. Had I less mone
y entangled in my estates after the fiasco of Father’s debts, I would fund his work gladly. As it is, I help him with his papers.”

  “What?” cried Kate. “Did that handsome young fellow who was his secretary leave, then?”

  “He got a very good position with Lord Felton’s ministry.”

  “Ah,” said Aunt Laetitia, seemingly at random. “A good choice.”

  Julian chuckled. “That’s right,” he said. “Wasn’t Lord Felton one of your suitors, after Uncle Trent died?”

  “Your sainted great-uncle was not a man who could be replaced,” said Aunt Laetitia repressively.

  “Of course,” said Julian. “I beg your pardon, Aunt. It must have been my imagination that you prefer widowhood to the constrictions of marriage.” He grinned, and coughed discreetly as his great-aunt raised her monocle to examine him with a frown. “As I was saying. For that reason, I’ve been assisting Miss Farr with the secretarial duties. As a favor.”

  “Assisting Miss Farr?” Aunt Laetitia gained a sudden gleam in her eyes.

  Julian chuckled. “Don’t try to marry me off, Aunt. She’s a perfectly respectable female, not unattractive, but Kate summed her up: serious and scholarly, and quite devoted to her father. I thought you wanted me to marry Lady Wentwith’s daughter.”

  “I will settle for any respectable young woman at this point, Julian.”

  Kate laughed. “I’ll sing at your wedding, Julian. Very sweetly.”

  “You would,” said Julian.

  “Which leaves us,” said Aunt Laetitia, “with Monsieur et Madame still without help. You say the cards brought you. Is there someone here that you wish to see this deck?”

  “I meant it literally,” said Chryse. “They brought us. We were in another country entirely, our home, and I dropped the cards and then we were here.”

  A short silence followed this statement. Kate’s movement broke it finally as she leaned forward to pick up the central card, the Gate. “You’re quite serious, aren’t you?” she said slowly. “You didn’t mean to come here. Do you have any idea where you are? Besides being in Heffield, of course.”

  “No.” Sanjay shook his head. “And we don’t know how to get back, either.”