Who: Mac and Una What: Things That Need Discussed Where: The Osiris Club When: Early March, sometime after Una rescued Arabella (backdated alas) Ratings/warnings: PG
Mac arrived early enough ahead of his planned meeting with Una to have a meal and a drink before settling comfortably in one of the well upholstered chairs in the drawing room, newspaper in hand to await her arrival. He wasn’t about to set foot in Cassius’s home if he didn’t have to, and it would have been poor form for her to meet him at the Lionhart, so a neutral site was needed. They could have met at Stonehenge or any of the ancient sites, but he enjoyed his creature comforts these days and while it was late in the season it was still winter. So the Osiris Club won out.
As a married woman, Una's reputation was bound to her husband's and vice versa, so there was no question of appearing as herself in man's clothing. In the days when the club had been less staid, she had done so many times. In fact she had even appeared at court in man's dress more than once, especially in the reign of--what had his name been? Charles? Dear Rochester's king, and how she missed Rochester these days. Victoria's court lacked in poets by comparison.
Anyhow, she couldn't wear man's clothing, so Una let herself be put in one of the fancy dresses that Victorian ladies so loved. She had to keep up with fashion these days, though she generally let the couturier at the House of Worth make the actual choices for her. It was in one of her new frocks that she presented herself at the Osiris Club.
These sorts of places rarely admitted women, at least in the mortal sphere. Una sometimes enjoyed being the only woman in the room and seeing the shocked and disgruntled faces of men at her arrival. Here, at least they knew better than that. Instead she was given directions to find Mac and a glass of whisky of her own.
She settled into the chair opposite his own and enjoyed the interplay of the warm fire and the cool chill of the room in not-yet-spring. The year was turning toward Summer but even so, it was not yet so warm as to stifle Una. She greeted Mac with a smile. "Good evening, old friend."
Mac folded his newspaper and put it aside as Una entered the room. He was tempted to toss it in the fire, it would suit the contents well enough, but thought better of it as his fellow Sidhe settled into her chair.
An eyebrow raised as he took in her frock. How women could stand being encased in such contraptions was beyond him, he could barely stand the collar and tie around his throat. But they all had the parts they had to play and so he left the thought unspoken and smiled at her greeting.
“Good evening. I trust you are well?” She looked healthy enough to him even in that ridiculous dress. He didn't bother asking about Cassius.
"Well enough, and returned safely to London, as you can see. With a little duckling following behind, as it were," Una added. "I found her on the stair. I have no idea how long she'd been there, as I'd count time or as you would." Even her annoyance sounded fond.
In Mac's company, she did not speak of her husband either.
“Tsk.” Mac shook his head, familiar with the location though he’d only been there once or twice. “If the poor lass had just been a little less suspicious she might not have gotten herself in such a state. All but accused me of meaning to do her harm after I’d offered her and young Parkinson food and drink in my own offices.” He was still a little upset about that, even knowing her background.
"With some of us it is our nature," Una reminded Mac, not belabouring the point that Arabella could hardly be said to know Mac as well as she did. "But I am sorry that she gave offence. She has been poorly educated, and that is now being remedied. Though I will have words with whoever left her in that state when I find them." Changing the subject, though not too far, she added, "The Veils grow thicker, it seems. I brought her through at Tyburn and it was like dragging her through the mud. She couldn't bring herself, poor thing, but it was like dragging a dead weight."
“I'm not holding it against her, or young Parkinson for waiting so long to bring the matter formally to my attention.” He waved off the semi-apology. Frankly he suspected Mab herself of being the culprit behind Arabella’s situation, though for what purpose he had no idea. Maybe he was getting too set in his ways.
He frowned at the description of the veil and drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. The difficulty passing between the realms was inching higher on his priority list, along with another item he'd recently been made aware of. “Combined with the thefts I've finally been made aware of it paints a disturbing picture.”
Una smiled, all pointy teeth. "You have spoken with my kinswoman? Then I suspect my oaths are released." She hadn't liked not being able to talk to Mac about the thefts, but Velathra's oaths and Mab's commands had bound her. At least she'd been able to tell Mac to talk to Velathra and get some answers. "Especially when they're connected with the matter of American rogues. If they are--and I am not convinced they are unconnected. There are too many neat coincidences here.
"I'm not sure that what has been lost could be used to cause the troubles we see; but I am not sure that it couldn't either, and that disturbs me greatly. Add in the problem of feeding on life force, however you want to express that, and we have the potential for a very ugly mess. I have no desire to see London burnt to the ground in a fire no mortal can quench."
Her last comment caused Mac to flinch ever so slightly, dredging up old memories more than two centuries past. That fight had nearly taken his life and he had no desire whatsoever to repeat it.
“It took longer than I expected but I did, yes.” Mac grumbled. “Why your lady insists on playing these games I doubt I’ll ever understand.” The eternal differences between the winter and summer courts had always slightly baffled him, but it was simply the way of things. “But it’s done and I’ve my retainers on the hunt.”
He took a sip of his drink and rolled the various troubles around in his head as he savored the taste of the alcohol. Humans came up with so many wonderful and terrible inventions, the pace seemed to only accelerate as the centuries passed. After a moment he swallowed and nodded his agreement. “It does seem too neat, doesn’t it? And all happening at once. They may not all be connected, but if none of them were I’d be very surprised indeed.”
"If any of it's not connected, the rest of it using that as a diversion. There are only so many coincidences I can believe and we're well beyond that. It's as if we've been besieged in this city by someone with forces at all the gates." Mac was one of the few living who remembered those days and that way of fighting. Things were beginning to feel as if there were a directed malice against all the supernaturals: the use of iron to harm her and Mac and block some of the mortal magics, the theft of the artifacts, the system of damming up the waters against the Merfolk, the wars of the vampires and the weres, and enough trouble that had manifest for the dragons that one of their number had come from China. "And besieging suggests either a single intelligence, or a group of allies against us."
He could see where her mind was going after knowing her so many centuries. “Don't go imagining conspiracy at every turn where simple human nature and ingenuity will suffice.” His admonishment was a gentle one, meant as a reminder more than anything else. They'd had more than one conversation on the accelerating pace of change in human technology in the past. As he'd once told Cassius, to turn back the tide of human advancement one would require a culling on such a level as to make the black death appear small by comparison. Short of a direct order by the Queens he had no desire to attempt such a thing.
“That said, the immediate issues are problem enough. If there's a group pulling the strings behind the recent events they need to be identified and dealt with, for everyone's sake.”
"There are too many weapons loose not to be somewhat suspicious, Conall," Una reminded him equally gently. It was her role, to see what lay in the shadows. "And here's a thought for you: we have a caitiff from the Court whence such things come, unknown and unacknowledged. We are meant to see a child, innocent and pure, as much as any of us are. But think again: what if she, all unknowing, is a weapon herself?"
“It wouldn't surprise me: one of our kind ignorant of her nature, her powers seemingly bound. And trained in the human sciences.” Mac nodded in reluctant agreement. “It's unlikely, but if correct then this has been in the planning for quite some time indeed.”
"She's not so old. Younger than the war," Una reminded Mac. She considered the amber liquid in the crystal she was holding. "Quite possibly younger than these spirits when they were still growing in the field. If one of our kin is involved, it's plenty of time. We must find where she came from. Which means me. He won't like it, but it's mine to do."
“Plenty of time yes, but if she's somehow involved then you’re likely right about some of these being connected.” He stared into his drink unhappy at the direction of his thoughts. “Which would mean there's been plans in the works for decades. A generation by human reckoning, and they wouldn't be connected without human involvement.”
He didn't want to admit it but the more he thought about it the more he had to consider Una could be right.
A sip of the whisky bought Una a little time to consider that. "Mortals can think in the long term. The cathedrals come to my mind as the sort of thing they do. But kidnapping a child and making her a changeling could not have been done without the hand of someone from the Courts, or who otherwise had access to an infant from the Court. So my thought ties it back to the task laid on my kinswoman, and I should, I think, ask her if she knows anything that could answer our questions."
“Agreed. It isn’t something mortals could do on their own.” He’d never intended to suggest otherwise. “Your kinswoman can be difficult to locate when she doesn’t want to be found, but I have faith you’ll bring her to heel.” Mac sipped his drink and readied himself to broach a topic he didn’t particularly want to discuss but felt he must.
“Have there been any rumblings in the Covens about their next course of action since Frances’ death?” He hadn’t liked the vampire much, but he didn’t care for vampires much in general. But he’d respected the head of the Steele Coven, and had worked with him on a number of issues. To see a leader of such a prominent family brought down like that was...unsettling.
Una was much better placed than he to know the internal workings of the covens and it might be helpful if she had information she could share. Information could help him plan his next move, and continue to represent the interests of the Courts as best he could.
"The news is not good. The Stahls have made their demand," and here her voice dropped and she lapsed into an older language than the one they'd been speaking. "They seek a seat in the House of Shadows, and there's a threat to back it. One of equality for all--" Una rolled her eyes because there were many things she believed in but equality was never one of them "--and I think they mean none are bound to their sires and childer, which is a terrible thing to say. And they have said they don't fear their own deaths. This is a new and terrible thing: unnatural beyond unnature."
Mac took a healthy swig of his drink at the news. Even he could appreciate the bond between sire and childe when it came to vampires. It was fundamental to their society, and the death of the head of a family in such a way caused shockwaves that were still being felt months later. For a group to be prepared to destroy that foundation and potentially themselves to achieve their goals was beyond unnatural, Una was quite correct in that.
“Then they’ve gone quite mad.” He replied in the same language. “I wouldn’t have thought even the most insane vampire to think of either action. What do we know about these Stahls, aside of their origin?” He’d thought it something for the Night Watch and the American Pinkertons to handle and he’d been content to leave it to them. Perhaps that had been a mistake.
"They left for America a few centuries ago and now have come back. They were on the losing side in the recent war there, and they favour chattel ownership of mortals." Una wrinkled her nose at that; she didn't mind strong vassalage oaths, even binding ones, by any means, but she did think they should be mutual. Chattel ownership of sentients wasn't the same thing at all. "They have returned to make trouble for the covens; they are, I think, responsible for the recent assassination. There are mortal agents looking for the Stahls and they have alerted the Night Watch. They were also spying on me for a while, but I have come to an understanding with them." Una smiled, all sharp teeth and pleasantry. "I should look in on them, and see if they have learned anything useful."
“Then I'm sure the coves will deal with them, and the sooner the better.” He didn't need the instability when someone was already trying to restart the war. The thought led to another and his frown deepened. “You don't suppose they're in league with whoever is behind the plot to break the truce between the wolves and vampires?” It fit too neatly with her earlier suspicions.
"It does seem like a giant conspiracy, doesn't it?" Una finished her own drink and set it aside, rim down, in a manner that most mortals would have considered decidedly mannish. "My sense is that they're all connected somehow, even if it's only that once certain factions become aware of what others do, they use it to hide their own despicable deeds. There have always been mortals who fear and hate us, both in our own persons--" she gestured between Mac and herself "--and any of the supernatural. We are creatures of a different order, we are in general their superiors in matters of mind, body, and magic, and there are those who will resent that.
"And," she added, "those among our community who will use them for their own agenda. If those who act against the queen, and by extension, our entire existing order--" and again she indicated herself and Mac, and by extension the Courts at large "--can disrupt both our worlds, who knows what may come of it, Connall? What if the weapons are given to the upstarts of Stahl? What if the killed who thins the veils of Death uses that power? There are no answers I like here."