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Authors: Gail Carriger
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preternaturals have this kind
of effect on supernaturals. It is a logical causal leap to take.”
“Except that we both know it was not you.”
“Exactly! So who was it? Or what was it? What really did happen? I am certain you have some theory or other.”
At that her husband chuckled. He had, after all, attached himself to a woman without a soul. He should not be surprised by
her consistent pragmatism. Amazed by how quickly his wife could improve his mood by simply being herself, he said, “You first,
woman.”
Alexia tugged him down to lie next to her and pillowed her head in the crook between his chest and shoulder. “The Shadow Council
has informed the queen that we believe it to be a newly developed scientific weapon of some kind.”
“Do you agree?” His voice was a rumble under her ear.
“It is a possibility in this modern age, but it is only, at best, a working hypothesis. It might be that Darwin is right,
and we have attained a new age of preternatural evolution. It might be that the Templars are somehow involved. It might be
that we are missing something vital.” She directed a sharp glare at her silent spouse. “Well, what has BUR uncovered?”
Alexia had a private theory that this was part of her role as muhjah. Queen Victoria had taken an unexpectedly favorable interest
in seeing Alexia Tarabotti married to Conall Maccon, prior to Alexia’s assumption of the post. Lady Maccon often wondered
if that wasn’t a wish to see greater lines of communication open between BUR and the Shadow Council. Although, Queen Victoria
probably did not think such communication would take place quite so carnally.
“How much do you know about Ancient Egypt, wife?” Conall dislodged her and leaned up on one arm, idly rubbing the curve of
her side with his free hand.
Alexia tucked a pillow under her head and shrugged. Her father’s library included a large collection of papyrus scrolls. He
had had some fondness for Egypt, but Alexia had always been more interested in the classical world. There was something unfortunately
fierce and passionate about the Nile and its environs. She was much too practical for Arabic with its flowery scrawl when
Latin, with all its mathematic precision, made for such an attractive alternative.
Lord Maccon pursed his lips. “It was ours, you know? The werewolves’. Way back, four thousand years or more, lunar calendar
and everything. Long before the daylight folk built up Greece and before the vampires extruded Rome, we werewolves had Egypt.
You have seen how I can keep my body and turn only my head into wolf shape?”
“The thing that only true Alphas can do?” Alexia remembered it well from the one time she had seen him do it. It was unsettling
and mildly revolting.
He nodded. “To the present day, we still call it the Anubis Form. Howlers say that, for a time, we were worshipped as gods
in Ancient Egypt. And that was our downfall. For there are legends of a disease, a massive epidemic that struck only the supernatural:
the God-Breaker Plague, a pestilence of unmaking. They say it swept the Nile clean of blood and bite, of werewolves and vampires
alike, all of them dying as mortals within the space of a generation, and no metamorphosis came again to the Nile for a thousand
years.”
“And now?”
“Now in all of Egypt, there exists just one hive, near Alexandria, as north as it can get and still be delta. They represent
what remains of the Ptolemy Hive. Just that one, and it came in with the Greeks, and is only six vampires strong. A few mangy
packs roam the desert far up the Nile, way to the south. But they say the plague still dwells in the Valley of the Kings,
and no supernatural has ever practiced any form of archaeology. It is our one forbidden science, even now.”
Alexia processed this information. “So you believe we may be facing down an epidemic? A disease like this God-Breaker Plague?”
“It is
of effect on supernaturals. It is a logical causal leap to take.”
“Except that we both know it was not you.”
“Exactly! So who was it? Or what was it? What really did happen? I am certain you have some theory or other.”
At that her husband chuckled. He had, after all, attached himself to a woman without a soul. He should not be surprised by
her consistent pragmatism. Amazed by how quickly his wife could improve his mood by simply being herself, he said, “You first,
woman.”
Alexia tugged him down to lie next to her and pillowed her head in the crook between his chest and shoulder. “The Shadow Council
has informed the queen that we believe it to be a newly developed scientific weapon of some kind.”
“Do you agree?” His voice was a rumble under her ear.
“It is a possibility in this modern age, but it is only, at best, a working hypothesis. It might be that Darwin is right,
and we have attained a new age of preternatural evolution. It might be that the Templars are somehow involved. It might be
that we are missing something vital.” She directed a sharp glare at her silent spouse. “Well, what has BUR uncovered?”
Alexia had a private theory that this was part of her role as muhjah. Queen Victoria had taken an unexpectedly favorable interest
in seeing Alexia Tarabotti married to Conall Maccon, prior to Alexia’s assumption of the post. Lady Maccon often wondered
if that wasn’t a wish to see greater lines of communication open between BUR and the Shadow Council. Although, Queen Victoria
probably did not think such communication would take place quite so carnally.
“How much do you know about Ancient Egypt, wife?” Conall dislodged her and leaned up on one arm, idly rubbing the curve of
her side with his free hand.
Alexia tucked a pillow under her head and shrugged. Her father’s library included a large collection of papyrus scrolls. He
had had some fondness for Egypt, but Alexia had always been more interested in the classical world. There was something unfortunately
fierce and passionate about the Nile and its environs. She was much too practical for Arabic with its flowery scrawl when
Latin, with all its mathematic precision, made for such an attractive alternative.
Lord Maccon pursed his lips. “It was ours, you know? The werewolves’. Way back, four thousand years or more, lunar calendar
and everything. Long before the daylight folk built up Greece and before the vampires extruded Rome, we werewolves had Egypt.
You have seen how I can keep my body and turn only my head into wolf shape?”
“The thing that only true Alphas can do?” Alexia remembered it well from the one time she had seen him do it. It was unsettling
and mildly revolting.
He nodded. “To the present day, we still call it the Anubis Form. Howlers say that, for a time, we were worshipped as gods
in Ancient Egypt. And that was our downfall. For there are legends of a disease, a massive epidemic that struck only the supernatural:
the God-Breaker Plague, a pestilence of unmaking. They say it swept the Nile clean of blood and bite, of werewolves and vampires
alike, all of them dying as mortals within the space of a generation, and no metamorphosis came again to the Nile for a thousand
years.”
“And now?”
“Now in all of Egypt, there exists just one hive, near Alexandria, as north as it can get and still be delta. They represent
what remains of the Ptolemy Hive. Just that one, and it came in with the Greeks, and is only six vampires strong. A few mangy
packs roam the desert far up the Nile, way to the south. But they say the plague still dwells in the Valley of the Kings,
and no supernatural has ever practiced any form of archaeology. It is our one forbidden science, even now.”
Alexia processed this information. “So you believe we may be facing down an epidemic? A disease like this God-Breaker Plague?”
“It is
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