Delphine breathed through clenched teeth. 'What do you want?'

'You have impressed me, young lady, with your insolence and enterprise. Therefore, I propose an experiment: I shall tell you the truth. Then, you must make a choice.'

The leather gauntlets rose behind Stokeham's head. Delphine heard the click of a buckle being unfastened. The great curved beak sagged. In one smart movement, the gloves gripped the sides of the mask and tossed it to the floor, where it lay, rocking.

'Hello,' said its owner.

She was beautiful.

CHAPTER 43.

OUR POISON'D CHALICE From behind one of the statues Mr Cox produced a satchel containing a gemmed flask and four ivory cups. The flask was a stylised turret constructed from hundreds of tiny silver bricks, its battlements lined with cannon. Cox unscrewed a crenelated lid studded with sapphires and poured a treacly, bruise-coloured substance into three of the cups. He grimaced as he handed a cup to the woman, and touched two fingers to his stomach. He offered a cup to Delphine.

She took it. Incised around the sides of the cup were hanging cadavers, all harka.

'Drink.'

The woman's voice was dry and quavering but her face was young and supple, her skin the soft pink of rose quartz. Her large eyes gleamed. She sat on the ridge surrounding the pool, lifting the skirts of her overcoat so they did not drag on the damp ground. She looked Delphine up and down. Her yellow-white hair was swept from left to right and fastened behind her ear with an ivory clasp. A sheen of perspiration stood out on her brow. She smiled.

Delphine looked at the cup uncertainly. The liquid had a heavy, nettley musk. She tilted the cup; its contents oozed towards the rim.

'I don't like speaking,' said the woman. 'Mr Cox helps me. He, uh . . . ' She screwed her eyes shut. 'Interprets.' Mr Cox bowed modestly. 'But he adds things. I want to speak to you. Just me. My name is Anwen.' She raised her cup.

'Where's Sir Peter?' Delphine said.

'Dead.'

Delphine stared down into her drink.

'Why did you pretend to be Lord Alderberen's father?'

'I didn't.'

'But you said he was your son.'

'He is.'

Delphine frowned. 'Then . . . you're Peter Stokeham's wife?'

'Widow.'

'You died in a fire. He went mad with grief.'

The corner's of Anwen's mouth creased. 'Not quite.'

Delphine could not tell if she was smiling.

Mr Cox stepped forward. Anwen held up a hand. 'No, thank you.' She waved him away. 'I would like to explain myself.'

Cox nodded, a taut smile on his face as he stepped back. Delphine heard the hiss of air leaving his nostrils. From his pocket he took a clay pipe and tobacco pouch.

'When I married Peter,' said Anwen, 'I didn't know about the family secret.' Her voice was almost inaudible. Between each sentence, she took a sharp breath. 'He told me on our wedding night. The Stokehams had found a way to live for ever.

'For generations, when people in his family got old, they did not die. Instead they travelled to the new world, where they could live, with their servants, and their servants' families, for all time.

'I thought he was mocking me. Then I thought he was mad. I asked for proof. So he brought me here.'

She lifted her arms and gestured at the chamber. 'He showed me the threshold. We couldn't use it ourselves, of course, but when the first visitor emerged I knew he had been telling me the truth.'

'What about the fire?' said Delphine.

'I was very young. I didn't realise at first that my husband was . . . misguided.'

'He was weak and nave,' said Mr Cox.

'Yes, thank you, Cox,' said Anwen, sharply.

'Apologies, Endlessness.' He returned to filling his pipe.

'He . . . ' Anwen sighed. She rubbed her eyes with thumb and forefinger. 'He wanted to break the covenant. He wanted to open up our paradise to everybody. He hadn't thought of how he would protect Avalonia from people who might destroy it. He was ready to expose the new world to all the villains and thieves who spoilt the old one. I thought he was wrong. But I was young and with child, and I said nothing.

'Conscience is not so easily denied. I was troubled. This did not go unnoticed.' With a slight inclination of her head, she indicated Mr Cox. 'I confided in him. He shared my concerns.'

'We were of a mind, Endlessness.'

Anwen rolled her eyes. 'He was only the first footman, but I was alone in the Hall. For the first time, I felt I had met someone who understands. Together, we came up with a plan to save the new world.'

Cox straightened up, wearing a broad smile. He produced a matchbook, lit his pipe, and performed a few leisurely puffs until the shag took. He slipped the matchbook back into the fob pocket of his waistcoat.

'One night,' Anwen said, 'the under-butler was off-duty, so Mr Cox took supper to his master. After this meal, my husband fell ill and died. He often stayed in his chambers for days. The servants knew never to disturb him. To hide his death for a short time was not so very hard. Two days later, an ambassador arrived from across the channel. I explained what I had done, and why. I explained my husband's plans to break the centuries-old covenant and reveal Avalonia's existence to the rest of the world.'

'But you killed him,' said Delphine. 'They ought to have hanged you.'

'The covenant was Avalonia's most sacred law,' said Cox. 'It kept the new world safe from plunderers. He would have blackened the Stokeham name. His ancestors would have been excommunicated. We spared him that.'

'The ambassador was impressed. I received the honours in my husband's place.'

'Her Ladyship and I,' said Mr Cox, almost sighing the honorific, 'embarked on a little folie deux, as I believe they call it these days.'

'I'm sure you can guess the rest,' said Anwen. 'We started a fire, then pretended I had died and grief had turned my husband into a recluse. I had builders construct tunnels and secret passages so I could come and go as I pleased. Whenever I left the house, my face was covered. Servants knew better than to speak to me. We let senior staff go, of course hired people who had not known the Earl before his, ah . . . hibernation. On the rare occasion someone absolutely had to talk to "Sir Peter", Mr Cox accepted the role with aplomb.' Cox acknowledged this with a nod. 'We would insist they spoke to him through a door, or, in the final years, over the telephone.'

'You're idiots,' said Delphine. 'You should have just said your husband died in the fire. Then you could have been yourself.'

'That would have been easier, certainly, but there were a number of political and legal obstacles that only the 3rd Earl of Alderberen could surmount. My husband's failure to enter the perpetuum would have caused . . . unrest. The ambassador proposed that, in the interests of stability, we delay news of Peter Stokeham's passing until we had cemented some alliances.

'I still remember the moment I announced the truth. Bechstein looked like he'd swallowed a cricket ball. But he couldn't stop me. None of them could. It was too late.' She let out a laugh that was more like a sneeze. 'Some of them still can't accept it. But that's the thing about, uh . . . ' She snapped her fingers.

'Vacillating, hidebound cowards, Endlessness?'

'Mmm. They'll do anything to avoid admitting that the worlds are changing. We can use that. To this day, some of them refuse to believe I'm not Peter. They think all this,' she indicated her face and torso, 'is just a product of my arising.'

'The honours manifest in different ways,' said Cox.

'What about your son?' said Delphine.

Anwen's smile withered. 'What about him?'

'Didn't he notice you weren't his father?'

'He was six weeks old. He didn't notice anything. I sent him off to India, out of the way. Later, after we had decided it was time for the Silent Earl to, ah . . . '

'To pass beyond the veil,' said Cox, with a sweep of his palm.

'To die,' said Anwen, 'and Lazarus inherited the Hall, we made contact, and revealed to him the truth.'

'The revelation is a test in itself,' said Cox. 'He did not pass.'

Delphine transferred the cup to her left hand. She looked up, squinting into the shadows behind the two human statues at the back of the chamber.

'Did you have these made?' she said, pointing.

Anwen and Cox turned to look.

'No,' said Anwen. 'Before my time.' She turned back to Delphine. 'Why are you interested in statues all of a sudden?'

Delphine shrugged.

'Well, then.' Anwen lifted her cup to her lips. 'Let us drink.'

'Wait,' said Delphine. 'How do I know it isn't poisoned?'

'Why use poison when I could have you bludgeoned to death?'

'Aesthetics?' said Cox.

'Enough,' said Anwen. She glanced at Delphine, who made a show of peering into her drink doubtfully. 'Oh, very well. Mr Cox, swap cups with her.'

'As you wish. In the interests of diplomacy.' He held his cup out for Delphine to take. Trying to hide her shaking hand, Delphine accepted it and gave him hers.

'Now,' said Anwen, 'this is nectar. Our national drink.' She raised her cup. 'To new alliances.'

'And the death of old ones,' said Cox.

Delphine drank. Nectar coated her tongue. She felt it filling the gaps between her teeth and cheeks, thick and cool and intensely bitter. It tasted like engine oil. Her jaw clenched. She swallowed.

When she opened her eyes, Anwen was wiping her lips with the back of her sleeve. Mr Cox dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a fresh handkerchief.

'I know you must think badly of me,' said Anwen. 'I did not want this violence. Ivan Propp kidnapped my daughter. She's just a baby. So you see, I had to act.'

'Why does everyone keep calling her that? Baby. Girl. "The child." She's an old lady.'

Anwen laughed and touched two fingers to her mouth. Her smile melted into a look of astonishment.

'You really don't know, do you? All this time and no one explained to you how it works.'

Delphine smeared a palm across her cheeks. The nectar had left a slimy film that she could not wipe away.

'Delphine, I want you to join me.'

Delphine's hand halted in its passage across her mouth.

'It's not without precedent. When I first met Mr Loosley he tried to rob me,' said Anwen, setting her cup down on the edge of the pool. 'He had a, uh . . . '

'A certain contempt for death,' said Cox.

'Exactly. He was brave. I could've had him tortured and executed. Instead, I recruited him.' She smiled at Delphine a hard smile, full of threat. 'I'm not intimidated by strength. If we punish rebellion and kill our most powerful, what are we left with?'

'An island of sheep,' said Cox.

'I no longer feel the weight of Mr Loosley. He may be unconscious, he may be dead. Either way, he has failed me.' Anwen stood. 'Of course, you are far too young to cross the channel as a human. I shall have to anoint you here.'

She reached up and peeled back her stiff high collar, exposing a fist-sized tumour.

'This is another reason why living unmasked after the fire would have been . . . problematic.' The tumour flexed as she spoke. 'You will live eternally. You will hear my thoughts. You will feel my pain as if it were your own.'

'Together,' said Mr Cox, 'we will unite continents: Mr Cox as the Tongue of God, you as Her Fist.' He spread his arms. 'This announces her Ladyship stirringly is your final test. Will you serve House Dellapeste, and bring civilisation to the worlds?'

Delphine took a step back. 'What if I say no?'

'Then you may go,' said Anwen. 'I make you the same offer I made Loosley. If you join me out of fear, your choice means nothing. Walk out, if that is your will.' She swung a palm towards the stairs. 'But know this. I will not fail in my quest to rescue this once great nation from the hands of scoundrels.'

'Great Britain?' said Mr Cox. 'Not any more her Ladyship exclaims ruefully my agents have brought me the papers. Soldiers begging on the streets. Spies in every hamlet.' His voice grew full and lusty. 'Honest farmers robbed by bailiffs. Knighthoods sold to the highest bidder. Politicians frittering away the Empire. Landless financiers fomenting war to line their pockets. Bolsheviks,' he spat the word, 'plotting high treason.'

'In Avalonia we have something better,' said Anwen.

'Something pure,' said Cox.

'What are you going to do?' said Delphine.

'What else? I will set Britain free.'

'But you said Avalonia had to be kept secret! You said it's your most sacred law.'