“We would like to activate it more frequently. Intermittently, the past few months, at least once a fortnight, often more like weekly.”
That wasn’t absolute, but it was suggestive, and especially if whatever they were doing had a lingering effect. Vitus nodded, then said, “I have the readings I need. I should be able to offer at least a partial proposal tomorrow, once the contract and oaths are done, for the work involved. Tomorrow afternoon?”
“One at the Scali Bank, then.” Lord Clovis nodded once more, as Sigbert emerged, with his cheeks flushed like he’d been exerting himself. “I’ll leave Sigbert to walk you back. The contract will allow for access through the path indicated, which skirts the estate, at any time, and the portal as well.”
“Much appreciated. We may want to do some nighttime alignments. The angle and strength of the sun can affect a number of factors,” Vitus said.
That seemed to settle the business. Lord Clovis shook their hands and disappeared. Five minutes later, when Florent and Vitus had confirmed they’d got all the same measurements written down, Sigbert walked them back to the portal.
Back in Trellech, once they’d stepped away to the edge of Portal Square, Florent turned. “Tomorrow, then. I am glad for your help with this. It eases my heart about— ah, well. Family. Never entirely simple, is it?”
There were many things Vitus would like to ask, and none of them were worth risking in this case. “Sir, no, I suppose not. I’ll be in my consulting rooms until evening, and back by nine in the morning, if you have any further questions. Otherwise, I’ll see you at the Scali.”
“Likely then. Do have a good evening.”
Vitus was seeing Thessaly, so that seemed plausible, though he had no idea what she’d make of what he’d been doing.
23
JANUARY 9TH AT BRYN GLAS
As soon as Vitus came through the portal, she could tell that he was upset. Or no, that wasn’t quite it. Agitated, or tangled up about something, possibly both. Thessaly had been waiting for him in the library, because it was rather chilly out, with the fireplace going. Collins showed him right inside, though he paused in the entry hall to take off his cloak and gloves and hat.
“Should I bring tea shortly, mistress, or wait?”
“Give us a few minutes, please? I’ll ring when we’re ready.” Thessaly said it without consulting Vitus. “Unless, hm. Could you bring some of the mulled wine out? A glass each?”
“Yes, of course.” Collins was back with the glasses before Vitus had finished removing all of his various outermost layers. She left the glasses ready on the table. She closed the door behind her as she went out, leaving them alone.
Thessaly held her hand out to him. “What’s the matter? Or what’s happened? I don’t quite know what the proper question is here.”
Vitus took it, turning her hand palm up and kissing it, which was also confusing. Pleasant, but decidedly uninformative.He sat, hesitantly. “Florent Montague asked me to help with a project today. He agreed to take it on only if I was brought in.”
She blinked. “A project? An interesting project, a beneficial project, a worrying project?” She was back to something of a game of parson’s cat in her head, her mind wanting to tidy the adjectives and put them in better order. That was also not getting her closer to answers of any kind.
“For the Fortiers.” Vitus swallowed hard, reached for the mulled wine with his free hand, and took a long sip. He closed his eyes, set the glass back down, and added, “That was the perfect thing. Perhaps some soup or something, if there’s any ready?”
“That was part of the plan for supper. We can, I suspect, have supper early, when you’re ready.” She glanced over at the clock. “Not actually very early, you were— were you busy the whole afternoon?”
Vitus nodded. “Florent came for his appointment, he explained the broad outline, and then we went out to the Arundel portal.” He stopped. “Didn’t you say there was something Childeric and Sigbert steered you away from? Near the Arun, maybe on it?”
“There was. I didn’t see much of it. A tithe barn. It looked like there had been a fire, maybe struck by lightning?” Her hand came up to her mouth. “Lightning.”
“Lightning.” Vitus echoed it carefully. “What are you thinking, then?”
“I suppose that’s the thing with lightning strikes, we think they’re all individual moments. But what if some of these are connected? You said a lot of people have had dreams of it, unusual fears. And then there’s Childeric, and I had that dream about Philip. And the barn. What if there’s some reason lightning is, what’s the word, prominent in the general psyche?”Thessaly took a deep breath, obviously aiming to keep calm. “Have you seen the tithe barn?”
“No, that wasn’t where I was. There’s a watermill, with a building attached along the Arun, the southwest corner of the estate but not within the estate wards. They were very careful about mentioning that.” Vitus let out another huff, his own mind swirling.
“What did they ask for? What did you do? Do you want soup before I ask you many more questions?” Thessaly felt everything was tumbling out, all sorts of chaos that wasn’t getting anywhere near an answer.
“Let me explain.” Vitus laid it out, remarkably smoothly, considering the number of twists and turns. She was struck by the scope of the question, as he got to the measurements and what they implied. It wasn’t one she felt she understood at all, even the size of the problem. He finished with, “I need someone who can help me make sense of it, and whether I should go ahead, and what on earth they want.”
Thessaly leaned forward to kiss him. “Let me see if Collins can bring us supper. This is the kind of thinking that goes badly on an empty stomach.” She rang for Collins, had a brief conversation with her at the door, and five minutes later, a simple supper was laid out. Thick soup, rather than stew, bread and cheese. Vitus waited for her to begin, and then tucked in, swallowing half of it almost before she could have a few bites. Then he looked up, embarrassed.
“Did you not eat lunch?” Thessaly wasn’t sure how to ask this. Vitus considered, then shook his head no. Thessaly swallowed. “Problem of time, money, or nerves?”
The way she put it worked well enough, though it made him almost inhale some of his soup. She waited, her hands folded in her lap, using all the signs of decorum to make her point. He then smiled. “Time and nerves. The money’s going well enough,and it’ll be a lot better when I can finish setting the last of the lightning talismans. If all goes well, I’ll have them ready for delivery by Monday or Tuesday.”
