Chapter 39
THAT AFTERNOON AT THEBES
Vega was not, initially, sure how to time their afternoon. They had lunch, of course, moving into chatting about lighter topics. She finished her tea. But Vega did not wish to be rude - not to Cadmus, not to Vivian, not to Lena. She was not sure when she and Farran might reasonably excuse themselves.
But Farran seemed to have that in hand as well. About the point at which everyone had finished their current cup of tea, he pushed his chair back slightly. It wasn’t so much a movement as an inclination of his body, a change in state. “Supper at seven?” he asked, signing it to Lena, who nodded and added something as a question.
Farran signed something back, grinning, before he said added, “Come on, Vega, I’d like to show you the grounds.” She nodded, making her own quiet farewell, and then found herself promptly shown outside, around the curve of the house.
The house was smaller than Astralis, but the grounds were more extensive than she’d realised at first glance. Farran took her hand comfortably, not dragging her along anywhere, butwanting the closeness, and showed her around. This was his uncle’s blacksmithing forge, a mix of decorative items and practical ones. He had nails in progress, apparently. Farran glanced at what was out, and added, “Also, working on the repair for one of the gates at the back. That’s the hinge.”
“Do you keep track of the things that need doing in your head, then?”
“Oh. Yes. I have for ages.” Farran turned to look at her, now a little shy. “Someone told me I’d make an excellent stage manager in a theatre, because of it. It’s not just where things are, it’s the sequencing, isn’t it?”
“It is. Few people understand that. Cooks and chefs,” Vega said. “Stage managers. Some performers, not remotely all of them.” She considered the list she’d just said. “Did you learn some of that from Lena?”
“I think so.” They walked along a little, towards another outbuilding, before Farran went on. “I’ve always known Lena. The way she thinks about things. Signing. I don’t remember not knowing.”
“She’s been here a long time, then.” It wasn’t a question.
“With my parents.” He glanced away. “Uncle Cadmus has been a rock. I’m sure he hasn’t known what to do with me, rather a lot. And he doesn’t like fuss and bother, and there’s been more of that than we like.”
“Not you?” Then she remembered. “Your first apprenticeship.” It wasn’t really a question.
“That, mostly. And dealing with the residents. Mostly, Uncle Cadmus likes that? It’s a big place, better to have people in it. And mostly, they’ve been academics who don’t mind a modest walk to the portal or train. They like quiet for their evenings and days off. Some people stay a long while, some for a year. There’s always interesting conversation at supper. Oh, you should think what you do and don’t want to say. We’ve a folklorist at themoment, so decide if you want half an hour of theory about this ballad or that poem or not.”
It made Vega laugh. “You think ahead, as I was saying. The structure of it. Most people wouldn’t warn me like that.” She hesitated. “Haven’t warned me like that.”
“Ah, well.” They went past a long building. Farran identified it as being used for metalwork, the sort that could leave shavings and other bits that had more risk to the casual bystander. “I like to think I can offer you something specific.”
Vega let the quiet continue as they curved along the side of the house, past a rose garden and greenhouse, then took a path toward the trees behind. “We should talk about what’s on offer, then.”
“I don’t want to pin you down into anything. Your singing, you won’t be in London all the time. Not forever. Besides the schedule.”
“No.” Vega agreed. “I should at least go do a few months somewhere else.” She tilted her head, though she kept walking. “Would Ormulu find it useful for you to spend a few months in, oh, Paris or Berlin, or any other European city you’d like to name? I’d suggest to America, but I don’t particularly want to make it easier for Vandermeer or whoever is behind him to notice me.”
Farran turned to her. “I could ask. Especially if it’s three months or so, and a particular collection or style of art or something. I haven’t taken that kind of work; I’m only recently at the level where they’d suggest it? But I could.”
“Well. That’s one solution, then. You figure out a place you want to be that has work for you. I get myself hired at a club there. Easier that way round, I expect, especially if there’s a bit of lead time. And then we come back, and with any luck Madam Helena will have me back. Good for her, too, a little variety without quite so much stress about whether every person willbe easy to deal with. On my singing nights, you can do whatever amuses you. On my days off, we can explore whatever city we’re in, around whatever you’re doing.” Vega rather liked the idea of diving into a new city in his company.
Farran took a breath. “We’re doing this, then. Together. Whatever that looks like. I mean, I’m…” He gestured. “I’m committed here.”
“And I have plenty of aunts, uncles, and cousins who can tend to things at Astralis. For a long time to come. Maybe in sixty years we’ll have to do some more negotiation, but probably not. Not as long as I can get there when needed. The portal makes that easy enough.”
Farran swallowed. “And your family won’t mind me?”
“Oh, no. You made quite a good impression. Come on, show me the rest of the grounds? I should probably change before supper. Make a good impression on your residents.” Vega had the sense that if she let him, Farran would dither about that piece until firmly stopped. Best not to do that now.
Supper was excellent, as a meal, but also as an occasion. Vega could certainly make pleasant conversation with strangers. She was even better at making conversation with people who were strangers to her, but whose opinions mattered in a particular setting.
She chatted with one of them about London, another about a bit of poetry, navigated the complex channels of folklore, inquired about a piece of Cadmus’s translation. That last she was rather proud of. She’d remembered something about how the Greek looked at colour-words, the quality of colour rather than the shade sometimes. That got the folklorist off onto a delightful tangent about lucky and unlucky shades.
After supper, Cadmus firmly invited just the two of them up for drinks with Vivian, and none of the residents argued. Vegagot the impression that he rarely exerted himself like that, but that when he did, it was usually about Farran.
Vivian began, in private, with only the brief comment that she gathered Mister Vandermeer had been released to one of the Guard, and that he was being told to go home to America once they were sure he was all right the next day. “None of it was against the Pact, which made it easy, but making that sort of public fuss isn’t exactly a help. My contact thinks he’ll go without a fuss. It was clear to her that as he’d come back to himself, he’d realised whatever he’d been chasing was out of his reach.”
Vega would be thinking about that for a bit, honestly. And how, if the artefact was that powerful, why her family had thought she was the one to take it on. There had been the public reasons, her familiarity with London. But she rather thought it might be a larger test of her skill and what she was good for. It was another reason she wanted to be out of Albion for a few months, the better to figure out how to talk about it when she returned.
