The Pyramids of London

THIRTY-TWO

“Nearly dawn,” Eleri said.

The thin line of light on the horizon made this undeniable, although it had been well before midnight when they’d left.

“Hopefully the same night,” Eluned said, licking a cut on her palm.

Lila twined up Eluned’s right arm, and her head swung to point directly toward the end of the line of buildings, where the Burning Circle had once stood.

“Don’t see how automaton could reach here in one night. Not likely could catch taxi.”

“At this stage, I wouldn’t be surprised if the thing drove one here,” Eluned said. “So, now what?”

“Over fence? Out of field, anyway.”

They trudged, mostly avoiding cowpats, found a convenient stile, then crossed the road. The fence around the vast airfield would not be nearly so easy. A ditch, six feet of chain-link, plus two lines of barbed wire.

“Your next arm, going to build at least a knife in,” Eleri said, considering the fence unenthusiastically.

“Wire snips might be more helpful right now. We’re really going to have to keep some of the tools on the ground floor—running up to the attic for all the useful things takes too much time.”

Lila bobbed impatiently, then changed the direction she was pointing, sending them walking along the fence away from the distant guard gate, and near to the corner of the boundary. The ditch was full of bushes at this end, and when Lila pointed them into it, they found that it featured quite a bit of water at the bottom. But it also had a carefully cut hole in the fence on the far side, the wire pulled back into place but easily moved.

“How did you know, Lila?” Eluned asked, impressed. “There’s no way you could have seen that.”

Lila, of course, could do no more than bob her head, and then point once again toward the cluster of buildings at this end of the airfield: the compression dome and Workshop Two.

“There’ll be some kind of guard patrol for sure,” Eluned said, as they walked rapidly. “And people getting ready for the early airship flights, before the morning windstorm starts up.”

“Try to look like we belong, then,” Eleri said. “Say we’re looking for Lady Trevelyan. Could even look for Lady Trevelyan, ask for help.”

“Let’s hurry,” Eluned said, breaking into a trot as Lila’s head bobbed and wavered impatiently.

As they neared the ruined circle, Lila changed direction, sending them past the fallen stones out onto the airfield. This section of the vast, flat space was reserved for the smaller airships and offered more cover, but meant they couldn’t tell if there was anyone ahead.

“It must be on one of the ships,” Eluned said. “Come on!”

They picked up their pace, the pre-dawn haze allowing them to shift from trot to jog to an all-out run toward the back of the rows. Then Lila’s graceful head swung left, and they spotted a small form in the half-light. A cat—no, too large—a caracal, and on its back the automaton.

It sped past them, and they raced in its wake, quickly spotting that it was heading for one particular airship, where a woman was busily releasing tethers, even though the running lights were not lit.

Most of the smaller airships were dynastats, and prepared for flight by achieving ‘equilibrium’, which meant they carried just enough trilesium to offset the weight of ship, cargo and passengers, and relied on forward momentum and adjustable wings to achieve lift and descent. The woman’s airship had obviously not been balanced for its cargo, and so tilted drastically as the ropes were released, and then shot directly upward as the last one loosened, the woman only barely making her leap for the gondola door. The wings weren’t even extended.

The caracal leapt, but could not possibly reach the gondola. Instead, as it dropped back toward the grass, the automaton snatched at the trailing tether rope, and was hauled into the pink-touched sky.

Two girls and one caracal came to a panting halt, but then the caracal was gone, and a tall woman in a halter-top shift stood in its place. Her red-brown skin was beaded with sweat, and while she spoke she opened and closed her hands several times, as if they hurt her.

“I’m sorry, dama,” Eluned said, between pants. “I don’t understand Egyptian.”

The woman pointed at the airship as it extended its wings, then to the nearest airship on the ground, and then at Eluned and Eleri.

“Locking seals on airship engines,” Eleri said. “People kept stealing them.”

“Let’s try Workshop Two,” Eluned said. “Someone there might remember us, and have a seal key.”

The Huntress at least understood that they wanted to help, and followed without protest as they sprinted back toward the Burning Circle. The workshop on the far side of the compression dome was encouragingly well-lit, and the entrance wide open, but no-one answered their calls.

“Ransack office?” Eleri said, not very eagerly. She was not going to be quick to forget the rap on the knuckles she’d received during their last visit.

“Maybe someone already has.” Eluned pointed a neat sign that said: In case of emergency, pull handle. The handle, and part of the wall behind it, had been ripped away.

The Egyptian woman strode abruptly off to the right, in among bays of tools and parts. She returned carrying Lady Trevelyan.

“Is she—?” Eluned began, horrified, but though there was a large welt on Lady Trevelyan’s temple, she was definitely breathing, and responded sluggishly when set down on a worktable.

The Huntress flicked the top of the semi-conscious woman’s ear, so hard it left a vivid red mark, and Lady Trevelyan flinched, and sat up.

“Eidola?” she said, then stared from the Huntress to Eluned and Eleri. “You two again?”

“What happened?” Eluned asked.

“Eidola—one of my supplies crew. I confronted her about the fulgite she’d been sourcing, and she…is that an amasen?”

The Huntress spoke: a quick, commanding statement, and the Minister looked doubly dismayed.

“No time for explanations, need to chase airship,” Eleri said. “Do you have one?”

The Minister touched her hand to her throat, searching, and they saw a line of red where a chain had been pulled away.

The Huntress spoke again, and at least Lady Trevelyan looked able to understand the clipped, urgent words, and replied briefly in the same language before switching to Prytennian.

“I fear that it may well be my airship you want to chase.” She looked at them doubtfully, then seemed to come to some resolution. “Use the swallow.”

The swallow, whose plans Eleri had ‘scribbled all over’, was in the very centre of the workshop, hooked to the floor. They had to hold it very firmly after untethering it, though the assistance of the Huntress meant there was no chance of it escaping them to drift to the ceiling. It resembled a tandem velocipede with a winged canopy and an engine to drive a rear propeller.

“Hollow frame filled with trilesium,” Eleri said. “Not enough for equilibrium with riders and cargo, but off-sets most of the weight.” She glanced at Lady Trevelyan. “Central panniers can be used as extra trilesium cells?”

“No time for that. You two are light enough.” Lady Trevelyan looked at the Huntress’ lithe and muscular form and added something diffidently in Egyptian.

The Huntress gestured for Eluned and Eleri to climb onto the narrow saddles, and waited until the swallow’s wheels had touched the ground before releasing her hold on it. Then she flipped open the top of one of the panniers, resumed her caracal form, and looked thoroughly ridiculous trying to squeeze herself into the container. Still, she managed it, tufted ears poking above the rim.

“You’ll need a counterbalance,” Lady Trevelyan said, and pulled a large rock from the path border to place in the other pannier. “Good. I will send support after you as soon as I can find anyone to send.”

They started off simply by peddling, Eluned keeping them in a straight line until their bumpy progress became a smooth glide a few feet above the ground.

“Keep peddling, Ned,” Eleri said, and experimented with the wing controls, briefly gaining and then losing height. “Steering’s up to you. Try it out before I turn the engine on.”

This proved a fortunate recommendation, as Eluned immediately oversteered them into a flat spiral. But the natural buoyancy of the swallow’s frame meant the move was merely nerve-wracking, not deadly, and she could use careful touches to correct, grateful that the morning was very still. Then Eleri brought the engine to humming life, and they surged forward and up.

A warm blanket of night lay over most of the landscape, but the glow on the horizon was now touched with hints of gold, and the sky was paling above, enough that she could search the near distance for the airship. Then searched in the opposite direction when guided by Lila.

“What do we do if it’s faster than us?” she asked, as she gingerly swung the swallow into pursuit. The stolen airship was already a long way ahead.

“Go to France, by the looks.”

But they were gaining. Not as quickly as Eluned would like but steadily, so that the question became what would they do when they caught up. The automaton clearly no longer clung to the end of the rope, but there was no way to tell if it had managed to get into the gondola, or had fallen.

“Steer directly over it, Ned,” Eleri said, adjusting their height. “And…” She paused, then added: “Do it quick.”

It was only when the necessary adjustments had been made, and Eleri was preparing to cut the engine, that Eluned realised where the need for haste had come from. There was a rising wind. A familiar breath of heat, tickling at their heels. The morning windstorm, come hours too soon.

“Peddle to keep pace once we come overhead,” Eleri said, as their surging forward drive fell to a less relentless glide.

A violent wriggle nearly upset Eluned’s attempt, as the caracal surged out of the pannier and dropped without hesitation onto the ballonet of the airship. The swallow immediately began to bear to the right, and Eluned could not work out what she needed to do to break out of the spiral.

“Can you reach the counterbalance, Eleri?” she asked, trying to steer and still keep an eye on the gold and black caracal. Had it slid right off the top?

“Ned.”

Eleri’s attempts to fish the stone out of the pannier were doing odd things to their flight path, but after she succeeded in tossing it to the trees below, she pointed toward the increasingly bright horizon. Something was following them.

“It can’t be the Night Breezes.” Eleri squinted into the light, then turned her attention back to their target as the semi-rigid ballonet dimpled, and the airship began to rapidly descend.