Fire & Water

by Alexis Hall

  “Advise your sister to speak when spoken to.” The elder Ms. Vane-Tempest’s eyebrow arched.

  “I shall not.” I hoped that I did not sound too petulant. “And she is correct; no matter how upset you are about the manner in which events transpired, it would be irrational to limit your future actions on that basis.”

  She rose, slow and majestic like a tall ship. Then she growled. It was a little incongruous to hear a sound I would normally associate with a quadruped from a biped, but I believe that she expected me to experience a more primal reaction than I in fact did.

  “Are you quite well?” asked Lisbeth.

  “I don’t think they’re afraid of wolves, grandmama.” I turned to see the younger Miss Vane-Tempest standing in the doorway. She wore a well-tailored red dress that co-ordinated well with the upholstery. It was pleasing to observe such attention to detail.

  The older woman did not seem pleased to be interrupted. “You were not summoned.”

  Miss Vane-Tempest prowled into the room. The movements of werewolves were different from the movements either of humans or of vampires. A vampire’s body was subservient to its will, a human’s in conflict with it, but the werewolves moved as if their spirits and their flesh were in perfect unison. “I do not need to be summoned. This is my house. Or have you forgotten.”

  They squared off. It is my understanding that such dominance struggles are common amongst biological beings across many species. I have always felt it must be very tiring.

  The elder Miss Vane-Tempest bared her teeth. “You have shown repeatedly that you are unfit to lead.”

  “Is that a challenge?” Another growl.

  “You know full well that I can’t fight you, and so I can’t make you listen to reason. But unless you wish to preside over the slow death of this pack, you will mark me.”

  The younger Miss Vane-Tempest turned momentarily to face us. “Sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll be with you in one moment.” She returned her attention to her grandmother. “Leave. I will seek you out when your advice is required, and not before.”

  Her head bowed, the older woman left the room. Although I do my best to think well of everybody unless presented with strong reasons to the contrary, I confess that I was glad to see her go. The moment her grandmother had gone, Miss Vane-Tempest rounded on me.

  “Kate knows how badly she’s screwed me, yah?”

  “I am not certain what Miss Kane knows at this time. She is presently in the custody of the Prince of Wands.”

  Miss Vane-Tempest turned away, stalking the length of the room. Her dress swirled like leaves in the wind. “I really don’t need this today. I stand by my decision to hand over the Tears to their proper owner—it stopped my pack being drawn into a conflict we could ill afford—but her letting the damned things get stolen out from under her has made things very awkward.”

  “I am not certain that awkward is the word I would use.”

  “She lost a weapon of incalculable power, a megalomaniac vampire took it, and ran off to another pack’s territory. It makes me look weak.” She stopped and swept towards me again. “I can’t look weak.”

  Lisbeth brightened. “Then perhaps it is fortuitous that we have come. Our goal is to avert whatever disaster may now occur, and it seems that this would align with your own goals, which are also to avert whichever disaster may now occur. It would appear that we have an unrivalled opportunity to be of assistance to one another.”

  Despite my companion’s interjection, Miss Vane-Tempest continued to address me directly. “Is she for real?”

  “She is new,” I explained. “But she is also correct. Both of our problems have a common solution.”

  Miss Vane-Tempest’s eyes narrowed. “This is where you put together an unlikely team of misfits to pull off a daring rescue, isn’t it?”

  “Something very much along those lines. I have already recruited two vampires and Miss Locke, who may come with the backing of a shadowy governmental organisation—I am afraid matters were not entirely clear on that front. And I will shortly be attempting to attract the assistance of the Prince of Cups and her entourage. I may also attempt to enlist the further assistance of the young girl Miss Kane rescued last year, who I believe to have a deeper tie to this entire situation.”

  “And you want us for backup?”

  “You have a stake in events. It seemed polite to invite you. I also understand that you have a strong desire to engage in sexual congress with Miss Kane, and this will be a very different experience if she is dead.”

  That may, perhaps, have been the wrong thing to say. Miss Vane-Tempest noticeably bristled, her eyes bleeding amber and her posture shifting in a manner that rang distinctly non-human. “Whatever people may think”—her voice was low and I believe menacing, although such nuances still sometimes cause me difficulty—“I do not make important decisions based on who I want to fuck.”

  “I am sure that is very admirable,” observed Lisbeth, “but my sister was merely pointing out an additional axis along which your self-interest aligned with ours.”

  With a strangely humanising sigh, Miss Vane-Tempest lowered herself onto a smug-looking chaise longue. “If it was up to me—” she began.

  I have been practicing an expression of polite and only partly sincere confusion for just such occasions. I deployed it now. “Perhaps I have misunderstood; I was under the impression that it is up to you.”

  “I have duties.”

  “Which, by my understanding, include preventing exactly the kind of catastrophe that will inevitably unfold in the event that the Prince of Wands succeeds in his endeavour—even if he takes no malevolent action after achieving godhood, the process of transformation will destroy quite a large part of Scotland. It feels to me as if in this situation your desires and your duties are congruent with one another.”

  Softly, Miss Vane-Tempest lay herself down, propped on one elbow. Her smile was curious, perhaps a little flirtatious. “How does Kate inspire such loyalty? But you have a point. I shall need to take the pack north to deal with the situation, and it would be best if we were to coordinate our efforts. Whatever little alliance you bring together, we will meet you there.”

  I bowed. I was not certain that it was the appropriate gesture, but the entire structure of this place created the expectation of formality. “Where shall we find you?”

  Miss Vane-Tempest smiled. It was a wolf’s smile. “You won’t. You’ll be found.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I Am Still Doing My Best to Resolve Things

  The next individual I believe could be prevailed upon to come to the rescue of Miss Kane was the young lady she had herself rescued from a similar situation six months earlier. It is possible that my employer may have had misgivings about my recruiting Miss Kyprianides for this adventure, citing her relative youth and the high probability that a vagary of circumstance or error in judgement could lead to the premature cessation of her biological function. My perspective, however, was that the lady in question appeared to have an intimate connection to the power that Mr. Douglas presently sought to usurp, and that she might, therefore, not only prove useful but also feel that she had a right to at least be invited to participate.

  Initially I attempted to locate Miss Kyprianides at her father’s house, although I neglected to inform him of the precise details of the situation. I never had a father but I am given to understand they look somewhat dimly on the idea of their daughters embarking upon missions of certain death. To my dismay, he informed me that she could presently be found at the Royal Free Hospital but, to my relief, clarified that she was a visitor rather than a patient.

  The Royal Free, as it described itself, was an amiable and trustworthy building of quite a modern disposition. Its work was complex and, no doubt, demanding but it did not like to complain. We located Miss Kyprianides by the bedside of a young man who shone both outw
ardly and inwardly. She herself possessed a similar light, although more concealed and at odds with an externality that was still in the process of shaping itself.

  “Ah,” I said. “Miss Kyprianides. I have to come ask if you’d like to accompany me on a short journey to Scotland in order to confront an ancient vampire who seeks to claim the throne of Apollo by murdering Miss Kane.”

  She gave me what I believe I correctly interpreted as a look of perplexity. It had, I suppose, been rather a lot of information to encompass in a short space of time, a task that, in retrospect, could not have been made easier by my delivering it while standing beside my exact duplicate. “I’m sorry... I’m not sure I understand.”

  “There is no need to apologise. The error was mine. I should have explicated the matter more thoroughly.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just”—she looked at the boy in the bed—“I’m not sure I can leave Samuel right now. It’s my fault he’s in here.”

  This revelation was startling to me. “I had not realised you possessed such capacity for physical violence.”

  “She doesn’t mean she attacked me,” said Mr. Samuel, opening his eyes and pushing himself up on his elbows. “She means she blames herself because I got in a fight with her boyfriend and lost.”

  I blinked. I was endeavouring to do this more often. “It appears we are both dealing with very complicated situations.”

  “Will Kate be okay?” asked Miss Kyprianides.

  “I am not certain. I am attempting to build an alliance of sorts and have thus far managed to secure the assistance of two vampires, a pack of werewolves, Miss Locke, and a shadowy government conspiracy. But I believe your unique connection to the situation will prove invaluable.”

  At this juncture, Miss Kyprianides looked forlornly from me to Mr. Samuel and back again.

  Mr. Samuel reached out and took her hand. “Go. This is important.”

  “But what about you?”

  They gazed at each other for a long while. My experience in parsing nonverbal communication between other parties is even less than my experience of interpreting such nuances when they are directed towards me personally. Thus, I was not at all certain that my perception of unresolved tension and unspoken connection between the two young people was at all correct. Something golden and luminescent passed between them, but my perspective is limited and such exchanges may, for all I know, be commonplace.

  “I’ll come with you,” said Mr. Samuel at last.

  That, I thought, constituted an extremely satisfactory conclusion to the matter. Or it would have, had the wholly blameless door not, at that moment, been thrown inconsiderately inwards by Mr. Knight.

  “Sofia,” he cried. My feelings for Mr. Knight have always oscillated between frustration and pity. He appears to my eyes a being of broken glass, beautiful in the right light, but liable to cut. “I came to ask what choice you had made, but now I see for myself.”

  Miss Kyprianides and Mr. Samuel unclasped their hands with a quite startling rapidity and the young lady flew across the room to Mr. Knight. “It’s not like that! I just came to tell him that we’d always be friends but I love you, and always you, and only you.”

  “I want to believe you, Sofia. You are my world. You are my everything.”

  “I know, and I swear I’ll never hurt you again.”

  “I can’t bear it.” Mr. Knight whirled away and once again assaulted the still blameless door by casting himself against it. “If I lost you, it would destroy me.”

  “Ahem ahem,” I said, feeling that this was the appropriate juncture for a polite interjection. “May I clarify that everybody present has resolved to co-operate in the matter of rescuing Miss Kane from the Prince of Wands and preventing him from ascending to godhood, achieving near limitless power and potentially destroying a sizeable fraction of Selkirk.”

  Mr. Knight stared at me blankly. “What?”

  During the romantic altercation, Mr. Samuel had eased himself out of bed and replaced his shirt. “We’re going to Scotland to stop one of your people murdering an innocent woman and stealing a power that doesn’t belong to him.”

  I was glad of the unexpected support, but considered Mr. Samuel’s conduct something of an outlier with respect to my understanding of the behaviour patterns of injured biological entities.

  “You can’t do this.” Mr. Knight liberated the door and seized Miss Kyprianides instead. “He’s too powerful. It’s too dangerous.”

  Far from subduing her, this action seemed only to strengthen her resolve. “We’re going, Patrick. Kate saved me. I need to try to save her.”

  “Then I’m coming with you.”

  “That would be most helpful,” I said. “Especially if you were able to drive, since we will not all fit into my car.” I turned to my sister. “I believe we are done here.”

  She smiled. “I feel that went terribly well. Do you?”

  I did.

  My final destination in the attempt to assemble a team of powerful supernatural beings who might effect a rescue of Miss Kane or, as I was privately referring to it, Operation Secret Flamingo, was Miss Saint-Germain’s Soho nightspot the Velvet. I did not find it as trustworthy a building as I had the Royal Free. It concealed dark secrets behind coloured lights, a practice I considered most inappropriate. Given the hour, the establishment was not open, but I found my way inside through a negligent fire door that had allowed itself to be propped open.

  Within, I discovered Mr. Ashriel reclining in one of the booths and apparently absorbed in a novel. I took a moment to observe him. I had met Mr. Ashriel only infrequently, but I had found the experience pleasant on each occasion. His form was well configured having been, like mine, constructed primarily for the gratification of the observer. Beneath there roiled a chaos of fire and darkness that he continuously endeavoured to shape into a form of his own creation. It was a struggle I understood and considered admirable.

  “Do you enjoy reading?” I asked.

  He looked up, wide-eyed. “Why are there two of you?”

  “My apologies. Mr. Ashriel, this is Lisbeth. She is my sister. Lisbeth, this is Mr. Ashriel. He works for Miss Saint-Germain.”

  She dropped into another curtsey, a behaviour I had not taught and which, therefore, must have been part of her essential design. “Delighted to meet you.”

  “Um...so...” Unfortunately, Mr. Ashriel does not always seem as comfortable in my presence as I feel in his. I hope I am doing nothing wrong. “Is this...have you...are you here to see me or...?”

  “It had not occurred to me that such a thing was possible. Now that I know it is, I shall make certain to do so in future if I am not destroyed as a consequence of our present undertaking.”

  “Why would you think you couldn’t—never mind. What undertaking?”

  I explained the situation and asked that he either permit us access to Miss Saint-Germain or convey to her the urgency of the matter.

  Mr. Ashriel’s brows drew down, displaying a fascinating mixture of concern and resignation. “Is this for real? Actually, who am I kidding. This is the kind of thing that happens to Kate all the time. Julian’s upstairs.”

  I thanked him and turned to leave. But he stopped me.

  “Did you mean it?” he asked.

  “Mean what?”

  “That you’d come to see me.”

  The question was surprising but not, it turned out, unwelcome. “If it would be agreeable.”

  “I...yes.” He seemed momentarily at a loss. “I would like that very much.”

  “I believe it is customary, in these circumstances, to ‘go for coffee,’ but as I am incapable of drinking, I feel I would miss out on an essential element of the experience.”

  “Is there something else you’d enjoy?”

  I thought about this. “I have seen some very interesting car parks. Perhaps I could
introduce you to them?”

  “Yeah. That sounds...yeah.” He gave me a practised and perfectly sculpted smile that I was pleased to see fully reflected in the sudden brightening of his essential patterns. “Let’s do that.”

  Unexpectedly cheered, I said goodbye again and made my way up a somewhat devious concrete staircase. On entering Miss Saint-Germain’s office, I found her engaged in an animated telephonic discussion on the subject of a venue she had recently purchased. Waiting is normally one of my most inherent skills but, in this case, I felt that time was of the essence.

  “Ahem, ahem,” I said.

  She abruptly ceased her conversation. “What is it, Elise?”

  “Miss Kane has been abducted by the Prince of Wands, who also seeks to become a god.”

  I had expected a somewhat more significant reaction to this news, particularly given Miss Kane and Miss Saint-Germain’s personal relationship. Instead, she walked rather solemnly to the throne that dominated the northern wall of the room and sat down. “I’m aware.”

  “Then you will be pleased to learn that I am in the process of organising a rescue mission and that I have already enlisted the assistance of Halfdan the Shaper, Mr. Henry Percy, Miss Vane-Tempest and her werewolf pack, Miss Locke, a sinister government conspiracy, Miss Kyprianides, Mr. Knight and an enthusiastic young man called Samuel. I believe our chances could even be considered favourable.”

  She made no reply.

  “You are not pleased?” I asked.

  She propped her chin on her hand. “Pleasure doesn’t really come into this one.”

  There was another silence. This was not developing as I had assumed it would. “I am confused. Of everybody I have approached, I had thought you would be the one most eager to assist us.”

  “You’d need to have an actual death wish to be eager to go up against Sebastian Douglas.”

  “I understand that he is powerful, but there are many of us and one of him.”