The Pool of Mnemosyne, page 14
“Yes, I have,” I told her.
“You said to begin with,” she reminded me. “What else do you need Mariette to do?”
“She doesn’t know it,” I said, “but she’s a medium, perhaps more powerful than Vashti Savage. That doesn’t mean that she can summon the spirits of the dead, but it does mean that she can draw things from the depths of her unconscious mind, when the occasion demands. If the occasion does demand it, I’ll need her support as well as yours. We form what Madame calls a nexus.”
Or the victims of a folie à trois, I didn’t add.
She nodded her head. “Thanks for treating me as an adult, Axel,” she said—and for trusting me.”
I could have said the same to her, and might have, if I hadn’t thought that she would think it a flippant absurdity.
I went back to see Mariette again. This time, I didn’t have to make small talk, or ask her any questions. It would have been nice, though, if her bunk hadn’t been so narrow and so hard. Life on the Great Ocean isn’t comfortable, even after you stop being seasick.
IX. Return to Mnemosyne
The steamer would have been too large and heavy to attempt entry to Mnemosyne’s harbor, even at high tide, but Tommaso had never had any intention of doing so. The vessel didn’t even drop anchor before releasing a launch, which ferried Helen, Mariette, Elise and me to shore. It was the middle of the night, and there were no laborers on the wharf. The Sprite was dark and silent, the Augers presumably being safe in bed, and the intermittent beam of Lucifer’s Light seemed unusually bright by contrast. The quays were not entirely deserted, however. The advent of the steamer had not been announced by any kind of signal, but its approach had not been unperceived. Constable Clovis was waiting on the dock, in person, in order to cast an inquisitive eye over whoever might disembark.
There was no lantern on the boat, and although the sky was clear and starlit, the moon was a mere sliver. He couldn’t possibly see who was aboard the launch while it made it patient way through the choppy waters, roped with mechanical efficiency by two skilled oarsmen, making excellent progress in spite of the rough water. I was profoundly glad when it passed the harbor entrance and stopped lurching violently, but I didn’t throw up.
Helen went up the stairs first, followed by Elise, and then Mariette. Clovis didn’t appear recognize Helen or Elise immediately, so it wasn’t until the light of the nearest lantern on the quayside illuminated Mariette’s face that the expression of suspicious puzzlement on his face began to change. At that point, he must have guessed who the fourth passenger was going to be.
To say that he welcomed me with open arms would be an understatement. For such a taciturn and self-controlled man, he demonstrated an amazing extravagance.
“Master Rathenius!” he gasped. “Thank the gods! I feared that you were dead, or at least gone forever! You have no idea how many rumors have been flying round.”
I grabbed his right hand before he could actually fling his arms around me, and shook it heartily.
“It’s good to see you, Clovis,” I said. “Now I know that I’m home. Have you been looking after my island for me?”
It didn’t occur to him for an instant to challenge my reference to Mnemosyne as my island.
“I have, sir,” he said, “as best I could. I hope I’ve kept good order. There’s a great many people who’ll be very glad to know that you’re alive and well…are you well, sir?”
“Never better,” I assured him, “now that I’m back home.”
“For good, sir?”
“I don’t know about that, Clovis, but at least for now. You remember Helen, of course, and Mariette and Elise. You remember Constable Clovis, Mariette? I’ve talked about him often: the best man on the island, and the most trustworthy.”
Mariette favored the constable with a warm smile, while he blushed. His gaze flickered from her to Helen, doubtless a trifle surprised to find them together in my company, even though the four of us had all disappeared simultaneously from the island.
“I need a coach to take us all home, Clovis,” I said. “I want to reassure Jean-Jacques and Luzon as soon as possible that I’m well, and to ask them to prepare the house for my guests. If you could send a man in search of one, I’d be very grateful. I’d also like you to do me another favor, if you will.”
“Of course, sir,” Clovis said. “But....”
I cut him off. “I’d like you to send one of your men to Hecate Rain’s house, to inform her of my return. I’d also like you to refrain from informing anyone else, for the moment. The news will spread, obviously, but I’d rather not accelerate that spread unnecessarily.”
“Of course, sir,” he said. “I ought to inform Doctor Commonal too, sir, as president of the Town Council...” He hesitated, evidently aware of the possibility that that I knew that Fion Commonal was a member of the Cult of Orpheus, and not at all sure how that positioned him in my regard.
“Of course you must inform him, Clovis,” I said, “but he’s a busy msn, and a physician needs his sleep. There’s no need to wake him; tomorrow morning will be soon enough, don’t you think?”
“Yes, sir,” he agreed, with alacrity, and was quick to add: “There’s news, and a great deal of it, that it would be as well for you to know. If you’d care to step into the station, I’ll give you the gist of it while my men fetch the coach and deliver your message.”
“That’s very kind,” I said, and did as I was asked.
The first thing I noticed once we were inside the center of his operations was the thing that hadn’t been installed the last time I was there: the telegraphic receiver and transmitter, connected by a new underwater cable to the mainland, and to several other points in the island, perhaps including the Mesmay manse, although that had had a covert connection for some considerable time.
The constable ran his eyes over my retinue with a certain unease, and even when I signaled to him that he could speak freely, he still seemed uncertain, but he immediately began to bring me up to date.
“First of all, sir,” he said, “I wasn’t able to apprehend the second of the two men who attacked you, but I have information from a usually-reliable source that he’s now dead. The island was exceptionally busy, given the time of year, for some time after you…left, and there were a number of murders, for which I wasn’t able to arrest anyone, but things have been much calmer these last few weeks, including the weather. The ash from the volcano is no longer falling, any more than the snow that came with it.”
While he was speaking, he was gradually but insistently moving me away from my companions. They made no attempt to follow me, but cooperated with his intention by moving away themselves.
“The blonde lady’s husband is living at the Mesmay house at present,” he whispered. “He’s said to be working on a painting there, but you know the sort of gossip that kind of situation generates. The house has been transformed into a virtual fortress, and there’s a small army in the Duc d’Alectryon’s livery camped on the hillside between the house and the West Bay. There are watchmen in the same uniform posted on Snowspur and the headlands, and the keeper of Lucifer’s Light has been replaced yet again, much to old Nicodemus’ disgust. Two negro women have also moved into the Mesmay house—identical twins, it’s said. Sorceresses too, it’s said, although you know I don’t put much stock in that kind of thing. Vashti Savage is holding séances there regularly, supposedly conjuring all manner of spirits, real or imaginary. Niklaus Hylne attends them, and so does Fion Commonal. Davida Amalek did at first, but she and the Marquise seem to have fallen out. Your friend Miss Rain can doubtless tell you more.
“The summer season should be getting under way within the next couple of weeks, as you know, and I honestly don’t know whether to hope that the visitors come or to hope that they stay away. Something’s in the air, sir, and it’s not just the smell of sulfur drifting from Hekla on the prevailing wind. I don’t like it at all. I wish I could tell you that you’ll be safe now from further attacks of the kind that drove you away, but I can’t. Jean-Jacques has kept your house in good order, but it’s no fortress, sir, and you might want to give some thought to precautions, especially with so many ladies in the house. I know twenty men who’d gladly serve as watchmen in shifts of three or four, for little more than the price of food and a tent, and it pains me to say it, Sir, but I think you might need them. The town is far from what it was this time last year, alas—it hasn’t been right since that damned black snow fell. I know it was just ash from the volcano, but I have some sympathy with all those who still believe that it was an omen and a curse, and that the present calm is just an interval before the real storm bursts. The whole town is on edge.”
“Thank you, Clovis,” I said. “That’s very useful to know. For what it may be worth, I have a strong suspicion that the summer visitors won’t arrive this year, at least in any substantial numbers, but I have reason to hope that that things will return to normal eventually. As you say, there’s still something in the air, even though the skies are clear for the moment and there’s no longer any threat of snow—but I believe that matters can be settled, with the help of the gods. Mnemosyne might well have a hard time ahead, but she’ll recover; trust me on that. And there’s one more thing you need to know, which you needn’t keep secret, although again, I’d appreciate it if the rumor spread slowly.”
“What’s that, sir?” asked Clovis, a trifle uneasily.
“Among the rumors you mentioned, it has probably been alleged that I’m more than a hundred and twenty years old, and that I’m a sorcerer. It’s true. I’m also the Hierophant of the Cult of Dionysus.”
He looked at me for a full five seconds as if I were insane. Then his face cleared. “I understand, sir,” he said. “Fighting fire with fire, isn’t it? You can count on me, Sir. I’ll spread the word discreetly, as if it were a secret. I’ll have half the island believing it within forty-eight hours, and the other half protesting its impossibility. If anyone asks me, I’ll swear that I’ve heard it myself from a usually-reliable source, and that I have no reason to believe that it’s not the honest truth.”
He winked, in his most conspiratorial fashion. He was probably too simple-minded to be a good detective, but he was, as I’d ostentatiously told Mariette, the best man on the island, and the most trustworthy.
The carriage that the policeman had found for us wasn’t a four-seater, so it was a trifle cramped even for the three women, and there was no possibility of taking all the luggage that the oarsmen had brought up on to the quay before setting off to return to the waiting steamer. I had to take the seat beside the coachman, but I didn’t mind that in the least. The night wasn’t cold, and the wind of our progress was pleasantly bracing.
“I’m sorry to have got you out of bed,” I said to my companion.
“No trouble, sir,” said the coachman, flicking his whip at the two horses, which were hauling the vehicle with difficulty. The nags seemed far more resentful than their conductor at being disturbed in their repose. “Work’s direly thin at present; any fare is more than welcome, believe me. Going to be a bad summer, they say.”
“Perhaps,” I agreed, with a sigh.
“Just as bad for you and the other painters, I suppose, sir,” he observed. “We’re all in it together. We won’t starve, I dare say. There are always plenty of fish in the sea.”
I hoped that he was right—but the island had had bad years before, and suffered numerous petty disasters. Its people had always pulled through. There were indeed, as all the native islanders were fond of remarking, always plenty of fish in the sea.
Jean-Jacques was twice as glad to see me as Clovis, but better able to control his enthusiasm. Luzon wasn’t. She flung her arms around my neck in a manner quite unbecoming a woman of her age, let alone a servant, wept copiously and then told me, tearfully, that it did her the world of good to see me, but that I shouldn’t have come back, because it wasn’t safe, the island being full of murderers.
Jean-Jacques, in his quieter fashion, was not free from similar anxieties. “All the guns in the house are loaded, sir,” he assured me. “If you wish, I can have a picket of riflemen around the house before dawn, working in relays, day and night.”
“That’s not necessary,” I assured him. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to inconvenience you and Luzon, though. I don’t want to put anyone to sleep in the studio or the reception room, and I need all the bedrooms for my guests; I’m expecting Hecate Rain to be staying here as well, with her chambermaid.”
“That’s no trouble, sir,” he said, heroically. “I can sleep in the stable and Luzon will be fine curled up in the larder. I’ll go into town at daybreak and fetch back supplies as soon as the market opens, if you can let me have a little cash. Do you have cash, sir?” He was worried, lest my sojourn in mid-Ocean had impoverished me.
“In abundance,” I told him. “We’ll all be able to eat like princes all summer long, even if the visitors don’t come.”
That eased his mind. “Will Miss Elise be sharing her mother’s room?” he asked, warily.
“No,” I said. “Elise will have her own room. Mariette will be sharing my bed.”
“Very good, sir,” he said.
“The luggage will be arriving when the coachman can cajole his horses into making the trip again. I’ve given him a good tip. The books are valuable and need careful handling. ”
“Yes, sir.”
Like Clovis, he took the first opportunity to detach me from listeners that he considered importunate, and accompanied me into the studio while Luzon showed Helen, Mariette and Elise to their bedrooms.
“You know about Parenot and the Marquise?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Miss Rain will doubtless be comfortable here, sir, but I have to admit that I’ve been anxious for her safety of late. Clovis has had men keeping an eye on her house, but she’s keeping dangerous company, and although she wouldn’t forgive me for saying so, she doesn’t look well at all.”
“As you say, she’ll be comfortable here,” I told him.
“One of the Dellacrusca twins has been on the island, sniffing round. I didn’t rat him out to Alectryon’s men, obviously, but I didn’t tell him anything either.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “If either of them turns up again, you can let him in. They’re not our enemies.”
“That’s what I suspected, sir,” he said, sounding relieved. “The enemy of my enemy, and all that. The Marquise is our enemy, I take it?”
“She’s not our friend yet,” I confirmed, “but things change, and I haven’t given up hope of changing that. She’s moved in two Nubian sorceresses, I hear—identical twins?”
“That’s right, sir, except that they’re not, strictly speaking, Nubians, having come from even further away. Definitely twins, though. As for their being sorceresses, I have my doubts.”
“Very wise.” I cast a long glance around the studio, where, as Clovis had promised, perfect order seemed to have been maintained in my absence. “Is everything ready for me to start work in the morning?” I asked, in order to make sure.
“Absolutely, sir. If any of the paints have deteriorated, just say the word and I’ll bring back colors for mixing in no time. Can I take it that you won’t want to be disturbed?”
“You can, but Mariette can receive any visitors—she’s to be treated as the mistress of the house. Follow her instructions as you’d follow mine.”
“Yes, sir.” His expression suggested that he wasn’t looking forward to giving Luzon that particular item of news, but they were both well aware of the protocols to be observed in such circumstances.
“There’s something I else need you to do,” I told him. “I don’t need armed guards, but I do need to hire capable men to rig a telegraph cable from the Constable’s station to the house. Can you arrange that?”
“Yes, sir. There are crews working on that all over the island. I’ll hire the best of them. They’ll have the cable in place in within three days—but it might not be easy to buy the clicker thing that you need to send and receive messages. You might have to send to the mainland for one of those—and a new generator, if the one we have isn’t reliable enough to run permanently.”
“The necessary apparatus is in the luggage,” I told him. “The generator we have should be adequate, but it might be a good idea to obtain an extra one anyway, so do that. Helen’s an expert operator, so as soon as the cable is in place and the apparatus is set up, we’ll be able to receive and transmit messages, even in cipher.”
“That’s what Clovis thought,” he said, “but he’s been having trouble with the apparatus. I gather that it’s not as simple as he imagined.”
“Nothing ever is,” I told him, “but the equipment and its users will improve, with time. It’s a facility of which we need to make as much use as we can.”
“Perhaps so, sir,” he agreed, politely but dubiously.
Mariette and Elise were very tired, and only come back downstairs again to announce that they were retiring again. Helen’s room wasn’t ready yet, because Luzon had been sleeping in it during my absence, but she retired discreetly to the reception room to wait, after saying that she would help with the luggage when it arrived, and supervise the unpacking of the telegraph apparatus.
Before the coachman with the slow horses returned, however, a different carriage pulled up outside, carrying Hecate Rain and her chambermaid. I went out to meet it.
Hecate threw her arms around me, and I made no move to interrupt her intention or pull away. As Jean-Jacques had said, she wasn’t her normal ebullient self; she gave the impression of someone who hadn’t been sleeping well for some considerable time, and was definitely in one of her darker moods, in need of consolation..
