supersensible creature and there were many things she wished to know.”
Cezar’s faint amusement faded. “Has it occurred to you that you may be mistaken in Miss Dinwiddie?”
“Constantly. To what do you refer?”
“Professor Dinwiddie not only invented an amphibious horse-drawn vehicle and an automaton that could play a flute, he duplicated the Everlasting Light of Trithemius, and had remarkable success in extracting metals from fruit. Lead from bladderwrack, as I recall. Mercury from Irish moss. Folly, to underestimate his daughter. She may be playing a deep game.”
As might Cezar himself. Val glanced at the anatomical table. “Miss Dinwiddie is more interested in natural marvels than in alchemy. She hopes to meet a water kelpie while she’s here in Edinburgh.” He paused before he added, “There are other items missing from the Society’s vaults.”
“Miss Dinwiddie confided in you freely, knowing what you are.”
“Emily is a very practical young woman. She needs my help.”
The violet eyes narrowed. “Miss Dinwiddie claimed you are an old friend of the family. Does she know how truly she spoke?”
“No. And I don’t intend to explain.”
“What are you doing, Val?”
“Protecting our interests.” Val met his Stapan’s gaze. “There isa possibility that she may be influencing my mind.”
Cezar raised an eyebrow. “You are vampir. You should be influencing hers.”
Val snorted. “Emily is not easily influenced. She can close her mind to me. If we’re touching, unless I deliberately block her, she can read my memories. I should be able to hear her thoughts. She should not be able to hear mine.”
“You like her,” Andrei observed.
Val shrugged off the suggestion. “It is of little consequence whether I like her or no. Miss Dinwiddie is prone to rush in where angels dare not tread. Too, there is the matter of St. Cuthbert’s knucklebone.” He gestured toward the shrouded body. “What is to be done with this one? Who was she, do you know?”
Cezar approached the table. “I do. She is one Madame Fanchon, whom you had recently at your house. I believe I will invest in one of those patented spring-closure coffins outfitted with cast-iron straps. I would not care for the anatomists to get hold of this particular corpse.”
Such an event was all-too-likely, in the normal course of things. Resurrectionists haunted the city’s cemeteries, bent on providing surgeons and medical students fresh corpses to study and dissect by fair means and foul, thereby giving rise to public outrage, the Scots preferring their dear departed to arrive in heaven in an unkenand condition, as opposed to missing one or several body parts. Grieving families sometimes went so far as to pour vitriol and quicklime into the coffins of their loved ones to render the corpses unfit, which rather begged the question of arriving in heaven in one piece.
But, Franny? Why Franny? Had he brought her into this?
Whatever ‘this’ was?
Cezar interrupted Val’s reflections. “One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“If Miss Dinwiddie has the d’Auvergne athame in her possession, she can do a great deal more than push you from her mind. ”
Chapter Thirteen
A woman, a dog, and a walnut tree,
the more you beat them the better they be.
(Romanian proverb)
As structures in Edinburgh’s Old Town climbed higher, their foundations sank deeper into the soft sandstone. The steep slopes on either side of the High Street had enabled builders to dig sideways into the ridge, building underground levels at depths not possible elsewhere. The foundations of the tenements resembled rabbit warrens, levels of cellars built one above the other, a cold, damp maze of tunnels and underground chambers teeming with beggars and criminals and other societal outcasts. Not to mention rats. Water for cooking and washing was carried by hand down the same winding tunnels into which the residents threw their household
Cezar’s faint amusement faded. “Has it occurred to you that you may be mistaken in Miss Dinwiddie?”
“Constantly. To what do you refer?”
“Professor Dinwiddie not only invented an amphibious horse-drawn vehicle and an automaton that could play a flute, he duplicated the Everlasting Light of Trithemius, and had remarkable success in extracting metals from fruit. Lead from bladderwrack, as I recall. Mercury from Irish moss. Folly, to underestimate his daughter. She may be playing a deep game.”
As might Cezar himself. Val glanced at the anatomical table. “Miss Dinwiddie is more interested in natural marvels than in alchemy. She hopes to meet a water kelpie while she’s here in Edinburgh.” He paused before he added, “There are other items missing from the Society’s vaults.”
“Miss Dinwiddie confided in you freely, knowing what you are.”
“Emily is a very practical young woman. She needs my help.”
The violet eyes narrowed. “Miss Dinwiddie claimed you are an old friend of the family. Does she know how truly she spoke?”
“No. And I don’t intend to explain.”
“What are you doing, Val?”
“Protecting our interests.” Val met his Stapan’s gaze. “There isa possibility that she may be influencing my mind.”
Cezar raised an eyebrow. “You are vampir. You should be influencing hers.”
Val snorted. “Emily is not easily influenced. She can close her mind to me. If we’re touching, unless I deliberately block her, she can read my memories. I should be able to hear her thoughts. She should not be able to hear mine.”
“You like her,” Andrei observed.
Val shrugged off the suggestion. “It is of little consequence whether I like her or no. Miss Dinwiddie is prone to rush in where angels dare not tread. Too, there is the matter of St. Cuthbert’s knucklebone.” He gestured toward the shrouded body. “What is to be done with this one? Who was she, do you know?”
Cezar approached the table. “I do. She is one Madame Fanchon, whom you had recently at your house. I believe I will invest in one of those patented spring-closure coffins outfitted with cast-iron straps. I would not care for the anatomists to get hold of this particular corpse.”
Such an event was all-too-likely, in the normal course of things. Resurrectionists haunted the city’s cemeteries, bent on providing surgeons and medical students fresh corpses to study and dissect by fair means and foul, thereby giving rise to public outrage, the Scots preferring their dear departed to arrive in heaven in an unkenand condition, as opposed to missing one or several body parts. Grieving families sometimes went so far as to pour vitriol and quicklime into the coffins of their loved ones to render the corpses unfit, which rather begged the question of arriving in heaven in one piece.
But, Franny? Why Franny? Had he brought her into this?
Whatever ‘this’ was?
Cezar interrupted Val’s reflections. “One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“If Miss Dinwiddie has the d’Auvergne athame in her possession, she can do a great deal more than push you from her mind. ”
Chapter Thirteen
A woman, a dog, and a walnut tree,
the more you beat them the better they be.
(Romanian proverb)
As structures in Edinburgh’s Old Town climbed higher, their foundations sank deeper into the soft sandstone. The steep slopes on either side of the High Street had enabled builders to dig sideways into the ridge, building underground levels at depths not possible elsewhere. The foundations of the tenements resembled rabbit warrens, levels of cellars built one above the other, a cold, damp maze of tunnels and underground chambers teeming with beggars and criminals and other societal outcasts. Not to mention rats. Water for cooking and washing was carried by hand down the same winding tunnels into which the residents threw their household
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