If I had been a common man I would have lived in terror of her, for I would have understood that this witch had the power to destroy my life.
I also knew precisely who she was.
“Ariadne,” I said, in as calm a voice as I could manage. “Well met, at last.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but just then Jane let out a shriek and darted for her foremother. Her arms were extended, her hands clenched into claws, and I have no doubt that she meant to murder Ariadne as soon as she reached her.
It was a sentiment I could understand, even as I winced. It was Ariadne, after all, who had cursed Genvissa-Swanne-Jane with her promise to Asterion that should she or any of her daughter-heirs ever try to resurrect the Game, then she (or whichever of her daughter-heirs bore her blood) would become Asterion’s slave.
Ariadne calmly held out a hand, turning it heel down, palm outwards, and said one single commanding word that emerged not as sound so much as a ripple of powerful emotion.
Jane stopped, so abruptly she collapsed into a heap two paces short of Ariadne. I stepped forward and aided her to rise. “Be still, Jane,” I whispered. “This is not the time.”
Then to Ariadne, who continued to regard us with a supreme equanimity that I envied, I said, “Are we here in reality, Ariadne, or in spirit?”
“In spirit only,” she said. “Your bodies still writhe about that dreadful kitchen floor. This was all I could do for you.”
“Why?” I said.
“You were in pain, and I did what I could to save you.” She gave a half shrug, the movement one of exquisite grace. “I can do nothing to the injuries perpetrated upon your physical bodies—by now, surely, you shall be virtually lifeless—but I could save your sanity.”
Now she looked at Jane. “I am sorry for what has happened, Jane. If not for my promise…”
“You have no idea of what I have suffered,” Jane hissed.
“Yes, you are right. I can have no idea. And so I shall do my best to set things to right.”
She paused, regarding us intently, then she smiled at me. The expression was cold, and predatory. “And well met to you as well…Eaving.”
I could not forget that Ariadne had once been the MagaLlan of Llangarlia as well as the Mistress of the Labyrinth, but I was put out by her knowledge of my goddess name. The surprise must have shown on my face, for her smile became genuinely amused.
“I have power, Eaving. I am not disinclined to use it to discover what I need.”
“What are you doing here?” I said, gesturing about at Tower Fields and the built-up areas to the east and west of us. “And like this.” Now I gestured at her clothes.
She laughed. “Oh, this is not the manner of dress I normally affect, Eaving. Generally I ensure I’m much less noticeable.”
“You mean you’re living here?” Jane said. “In London?”
“I drift in and out, from time to time,” Ariadne said. “I have an arrangement with the Gentleman of the Ordnance of the Tower.”
I could well imagine what kind of arrangement she might have, but I wondered if the Gentleman of the Ordnance of the Tower knew quite what he had invited into his bed. And why should Ariadne want to be there? I opened my mouth to ask, but Jane got the question out first.
“Why are you back? For what purpose?”
Poor Jane. I imagine she was somewhat disturbed to discover that great-great-great-granny Ariadne had been flitting around not ten minutes walk from Idol Lane.
Again that fearsome, predatory smile. “For my place in the Game, of course, what else?”
I went cold. She couldn’t possibly think that she…
“You have no right—” Jane began.
“I have every right,” Ariadne said. “If not for me then neither of you would be toying with such greatness! If not for me, then neither of you would be—”
“Writhing about on a kitchen floor having our flesh torn apart,” I said.
“Well, well, minx,” said Ariadne, stepping closer to me and grasping my chin with one of her hands.
I could feel her fingernails digging into my flesh.
“Such spirit,” she said. “What is your heritage then, to spark so brightly? What was your name and heritage in your first life, before the Troy Game caught you in its web?”
Ah, if Ariadne could know my goddess name then surely she would know this. But for the moment I played along with her game.
“My name was Cornelia, and I lived in the city of Mesopotama, on the eastern side of—”
“I know where it was,” she said. Her hand fell away from my chin. “An insignificant city. Dull. Who were you, Cornelia of Mesopotama? A servant’s brat? A baker’s bastard? A—”
She was needling me, and most successfully. “I was the daughter of the king, Pandrasus, and heir to the throne itself.”
“Ah,” Ariadne said on a long breath, although it was obvious none of this came as any surprise to her. Then, “Mesopotama was spared the Catastrophe. Tell me, Cornelia-reborn, princess and heir to that long-lost throne, did you ever wonder why?”
Jane spoke then, and I was glad, for I had no answer to Ariadne.
“Aren’t you afraid that Asterion, Weyland Orr now, might find you wandering about the Tower, Ariadne?”
“The Liberty protects me,” she said.
“The Liberty?” I said.
“The Tower of London exists under its own jurisdiction,” said Jane. “It is free from the laws of London. This Liberty came into being after your last life, Noah. You would not have known of it as Caela.” Yet still Jane looked puzzled, for that alone could not explain how Ariadne managed to hide from Weyland’s sight.
“Indeed,” said Ariadne, “the fields and streets surrounding the Tower of London form their own jurisdiction. The Gentlemen of the Tower have even managed to claim all rights to the cattle and horses that fall off London Bridge, and the swans that wander into the Tower moat.” She laughed prettily.
“But none of this explains why Weyland can’t—” I began.
“Think, Eaving! What lies beneath the Tower?”
I frowned, then suddenly remembered. “The God Well!” It was where Brutus and I had been buried in our first lives, and where, as Caela, I had met William the night he had killed me.
“Aye,” said Ariadne. “It took some skill, of which I have a small measure, to manage to entwine the power of the God Well with the legal entity of the Tower Liberty to form a protective ward. So long as I don’t leave the Liberty, Weyland can’t detect me.”
I felt uncomfortable. As Eaving I should have sensed this, for Ariadne would have used her ancient knowledge of the land in this enterprise, and yet even I hadn’t felt a thing. For the first time I had a true understanding of Ariadne’s power.
“You will come back to me here,” said Ariadne, “once your bodies have healed.”
“Why?” said Jane.
“You know why,” said Ariadne. Then suddenly she paled, and wavered on her feet. “I cannot hold you any longer,” she said. “You must return now…but come back, come back in the flesh, come back to Tower Liberty…”
Her voice faded, and I saw the fields about the Tower waver and then vanish, and the next moment the terrible bloody stink of the kitchen of Idol Lane assailed my nostrils.
Eleven
Whitehall Palace and Idol Lane, London
Charles’ journey from London Bridge to his palace at Whitehall was a living nightmare. The procession took several hours to reach the palace precinct and, once there, Charles endured two further hours of speeches in both the House of Commons and the House of Lords.
Through it all he smiled and waved, and spoke pretty and gracious words. It had been the most difficult thing he had ever done in…well, in all three of his lives thus far. Noah’s pain had abruptly ceased when he was but a third of the way down Cheapside. Charles hoped it was because she had mercifully fainted.
Now, finally, at ten at night, he and Louis and Catharine had managed seclusion within the royal apartments. The instant the door closed behind the last servant Charles sank down into a chair, dropped his wearied face into his hands, and muttered, “Gods…”
Louis was standing on the far side of the sumptuous chamber. He watched Charles for a moment, then turned to a table, meaning to pour himself a glass of wine. His hands were shaking so badly he dropped the decanter, sending red wine spilling over the beautiful parquet floor.
He swore, the obscenity rolling across the room, and Catharine gave a single sob and sank to the floor by Charles’ chair.
“Is she dead?” she said.
“Is she dead?” Charles said. “I do not know. Louis?”