From the diary of Madame
Lillian de Vere:
He shot me!
I understand Elethea's grudge--and to be fair, no one can blame her for being so jealous of me--but Uncle Spencer!
He shot me!
Up to that point, the ball had been going so well. Everyone I expected was there. Elethea and her little friends were there, of course. There was a rather dreary ceremony handing out some sort of commemorative medallions to several nobodies, and then, finally, the Vicomte brought it out. The rumours were true! Rambaldi's Swan was locked away in the Embassy, and it functions still!
De Molineaus treated is as a crass party trick, which gave me ample opportunty to observe it function. Its mystical power is not great, but the blending of science and magic to produce startling effects was Rambaldi's specialty, not great power. Once the parlour tricks were finished, the Swan was taken back to it's storage space.
I followed along, of course. The guards were wonderfully accomodating.
I had just begun to exam the mechanism directly--the legendary Heart of the Swan is a crystal, not unlike the control crystals of the Atlantean devices. For a moment I thought that perhaps all Rambaldi had done was recover a crystal from a ruined Atlantean articfact and convert it to his purposes, but no, Rambaldi created the crystal himself. He discovered at least one of their secrets.
I had not gotten much further in my investigation when Elethea and the Cowperthwaite woman interrupted me. Elethea suggested I was stealing the Swan, which I had no intention of doing, of course. But once she gets a notion into her head it cannot be dislodged.
As it was clear they were not going to let me examine the device in peace, I decided to bring the nonsense to an end. I probably shouldn't have stunned them both, but Elethea has been interfering with my work since I came to London, and I had not yet repaid her for that trick she pulled on me in the marshes.
The thuggee was with them. I should have known. But he had been next to them and was taken by the spell. I could hear others approaching, and was certain that Elethea's other friends were among those coming, so I exited by another route. Once on the roof of the Embassy I proceeded to copy the impression of Princess Isabella's soul. It took several moments, but I was sure I had time.
I was just completing this when Montelimar had the nerve to try to take the crystal from me by force of magic. I should have realised that he had survived. He may be an adequate practicioner when one speaks of illusions and misdirection, but he should have known better than to try a parakinetic ritual on me.
While I was explaining his folly, the thuggee leapt from nowhere and tried to snatch the crystal from my hand. How rude! I knocked him aside rather easily. I was reasonably confident that a fall of six stories would not cause him any permanent harm.
I could detect the Darlston heir approaching. She was raising power, I presume she intended to attempt to challenge one or both of us. Before I could finish off Montelimar and make my exit, the Vicomte and the Inspector rushed onto the roof. Elethea, the Cowperthwaite woman, the prodigy, the swordmistress were right behind them.
Most of them were armed with firearms, and they all opened fire on Montelimar. The first wise decision I had seen out of any of them. It might not have ended as quickly had not the Darlston heir stolen all of Montelimar's gathered power. So she does know how to fight, after all. Who would have thought a wet hen capable of such?
She tried the same thing on me. She should have stopped when she was ahead. I was going to explain it to her when that common little husband of hers put his hand on me.
On me! I am sure I should not be surprised how a murderous thuggee behaves, but one had the impression they were reforming him. Making an imitation footman out of him. Clearly his lessons have been deficient. Of course, I shouldn't be surprised. Members of Sir Cosmo's household address him by his surname. A footman, addressed by his surname?
They may have their egalitarian ideas and ignore the niceties within their own homes if they wish, but I will not be manhandled by a footman! And I told him as such, and hurled the crystal with considerable force into his body.
He had a tighter grip on my ankle than I had calculated. Of course, I had been planning to fly off the ledge anyway, so it wasn't really a disruption in my plan. He lost consciousness. Perhaps I shouldn't have just let him fall, but a sorceress can only do so many things at a time. And dropping off the building once hadn't seemed to hurt. I transformed myself into an owl and took my leave of them all.
The junior thuggee had jumped off the roof and was trying to catch the other one. Clearly he had everything under control. I had what I had come for, and could go about my business.
Several of them shot at me, which I suppose was to be expected. From those people. But Uncle Spencer!
I choose to believe that he was only trying
to wound me, but still, shooting his own neice! Is that any way
for an Englishman to behave?
Proceed to Diverse dispatches
Contents this page copyright 2005 by Gene Breshears. All Rights Reserved.