Alice explained everything. At least, all the parts she could without involving any gods or Edgar. She worried about speaking too much. Any mistake from her part would be teared apart by either her grandmother or great-uncle, being the gods of Wisdom and Liars, respectively. Her uncle, Marcus, was the only one who didn't question her, just walking around and looking at the remains of the vase, which had pulverized on crashing with the floor.
After she explained, and gave the cup back to Hebe -who almost fainted at the sight- someone ushered her out of the room. Though the worst part -she thought- was over, other things occupied her mind at the moment.
The sword. The same sword she originally considered stealing, and other one she had no idea even existed, now missing. If she had known what taking them entailed, she would've never tried it. She realised her father knew more about the artefacts he had "forgotten", than he let anyone know.
No one looked after her. They closed the door behind her, and she could only hear the worried and hurried muffled voice of the gods. No one saw her walk into the library, for example, or looking around for some sort of card catalogue to find books. Catalogues like those had become popular earlier in the century. But on private collections like that one, very few had decided to adopt some sort of unified system.
"Are you looking for something?" She heard a familiar voice coming from up a ladder. Ariel, for once out of the Tower, was busy sorting a couple of books on a shelf. "Why trouble seems to follow you every time you leave the house?"
"Bad luck?"
Ariel gave her an inquisitive scowl.
"Alright, fine. But this time wasn't my fault. I swear on the Styx!"
"I know what happened. Daedalus told me a while ago. Now, what are you going to do to solve it?"
"I need a book on Caliburn, Excalibur, or King Arthur."
"Down that self, corner close to the door," pointed with one long finger. "Better leave them where you found them afterwards."
The Duke had a lot of books, but most of them were about military tactics, architecture, or the Duke's own family -not that much had been written about them anyway-. A couple of them, the ones Ariel pointed at, talked about history and mythology.
One of them, a book of poems written by Lord Tennyson, had very little information regarding the king or the swords. He didn't even mentioned they were two, combining them by the name Excalibur.
Other, a dictionary of mythology, had more to say. For once, that Caliburn had been given by the Lady of the Lake to Arthur, after he became king, while Excalibur was the one he had pulled out of the stone to become King of the Britons. Besides that, not much.
A last one gave more information to where this lake was. South of Kastell Krukeith, on Wales. Though she had never heard the name, it seemed vaguely familiar to her. She pointed the paragraph to Ariel, who looked at her and the line, trying to make sense of it.
"I have no idea. Back when Arthur reigned, I lived in Alexandria...and then Istanbul." They looked around. "But I know who might have more information. Hilary, Nicholas, or Barry. What you have to do..."
Before they could finish, the door opened again. Daedalus, wielding his cane, came through it.
"Anubis, leave us. I have some things to discuss," he said. His eyes fixated on his daughter. Waited until Ariel left, closing the door, before speaking again. "Stealing the Cup of Hebe. What were you thinking!?"
"I saw it there, on the table. It was so shiny..."
Daedalus exploded. His cane left his hand to crash on a nearby window.
"Good day to know I have a CROW FOR A DAUGHTER! Half of Olympus wants you punished! The other half, to banish you back to Wales! I don't have a vote! England in disarray! Arthur on his way TO BEDLAM! WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?"
Alice closed her eyes. Her father had never hit her, but she feared this would sent him over the edge. Instead, she felt something on her, like a cold shower. However, her clothes and herself remained dry. Everything around her went silent, almost deafening. When she opened her eyes again, saw her father composing himself and fixing the collar on his shirt and looking at a pocket watch on his hand.
"Don't be mistaken, I'm still very crossed," he said. "But that little outburst was for the benefit of the Family -explosive reactions are on brand with the descendants of the King of the Gods. Now, come along. We have no time to lose. Heh, time."
Before she could ask how they could leave a house filled with gods angry at her, her father opened the door. Everyone, on their way from the library to the downstairs corridor, to the outside of the house remained still, like statues. Frozen in a single moment in time, while her father waltzed between them and out the main gates. He almost looked happy doing it, with a slight smirk on his face while admiring his work.
"Father, since when can you stop time?" She managed to ask.
"Since I was twelve." He turned to face his daughter. "Since you are not a young girl anymore, I'll let you on a secret. Our family being gods is the most normal thing about us. We have a train to catch in...half an hour ago."
Before she could ask, her father fiddled with the silver pocket watch.
The world began moving again. Clouds and carriages passed on streets and skies. Noise came back, first slowly, and then in full force. Everything moved back to how it should move, and behave how it should behave. At first, that is. When Alice paid attention, notice everything worked backwards: people moving around, and carriages, and horses, and animals, everything and everyone regressing on their steps.
"Don't slow down. Time waits for no one, and I won't want...her to follow us."
"Grandmother?"
"She's the least of my worries right now."
They walked through Trafalgar and into Charing Cross. Alice barely had time to look around -she had never been in the station before- as she followed her father around to the platforms. Black engines smoking everywhere, and people moving, now normally, through the place carrying luggage and suitcases around.
"Mr. Athenida, welcome. Can I help you?" A man dressed in a fancy suit approached them. "Is this your daughter?"
"Is my train ready?" Daedalus wasn't one for small-talk on his best days, and never when on a hurry.
"Yes sir, we received your message a two hours ago. Platform 4, please."
Alice recognised the train at first sight. The locomotive belonged to Athenida Industries. Her father used it as a moving office, since he'd moved most of the operations to America. A large coat of arms, the one his father had since the times of Henry I, painted on the sides of the last car.
Her father motioned to that car, and both climbed in. The place didn't look like a train car, but as a richly decorated office. Panelled walls, stained glass, gas fixtures, and even a small coal-powered fireplace. Her father had a policy of not using magic openly or in an evident way, so, she assumed all she saw came to be through industry instead of magic.
A whistle, a strong motion backwards, and the train left Charing Cross and adventured south, to Southwark.
In the future, when she visited London, all of that has streets, houses and tall buildings. Now, in the nineteenth century, country fields as gas as she could see, spare houses, and just a couple roads near the tracks.
"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told your mother the first time she saw my powers. No, this is not something to use freely, and I can only stop and go backwards." He looked out the window. "Now, I'll tell you what's going to happen there. We'll take Arthur out and you, yes you, will go back to Wales with him. I don't have the time, since I have to deal with the potential fall of the monarchy here."
"How am I supposed to get there?"
"This train is equipped to deal with such issues. Simply you take it back to Featherhill Station." The train slowed down to a stop. "That reminds me: remember that bog southwest of the house?"
"Of course."
"Don't let him go there."
Her father instructed her to wait there, since entering the place could end very bad for her. Therefore, she waited on the train, looking at the sharp silhouette of the enormous building at the distance.
The Saint Mary Bethlehem Royal Hospital. A mouthful to say, so most people called it "Bethlehem Royal Hospital", or, most commonly, "Bedlam". Since before Alice's time, the place had become infamous with a horrid reputation. The idea of going near or into it, even for a visit, was enough to deter her from disobeying her father.
She remembered the warning, one of the first things her father told her when she returned from the future. Mentioning anything about it beyond the people behind the Tower or her family, could end with her being sent there for who knows how long. She heard of the term "Bedlam" in the future, and though no one gave her an explanation about it, it wasn't difficult to know the magnitude of such problem if it ever arose.
Her train of though got interrupted by noise coming from the outside. The door at the end of the car opened, and a couple people carrying a lump in a blanket came through. It took her a moment to see Arthur as the lump. Her father came last and ordered the men to leave the unconscious former monarch on the Persian carpet next to the desk.
Once the men -whom she assumed worked in some capacity for the hospital- left, her father pulled a small cord on the side of the window. A bell rang somewhere on the front of the train, and this began moving through the tracks. She didn't notice when the whole thing changed direction so it would travel back north, nor when it changed track so it almost avoided London altogether. It stopped in Euston Station, and Daedalus climbed down.
"He'll wake up in an hour or so, they gave him enough laudanum and ether to knock an elephant," he instructed before leaving. "Take him to the house and keep him there."
"How?"
"Oh, he has no magic, it should be easy."
He left, and the train began moving again. Crossed the city, which barely reached that side at the time, and plunged into the countryside. The whole thing became a blur when the machine began speeding through the tracks.
After the first ten minutes, she lost fear of Arthur waking up and startling her. Boredom settled in. Nothing to do but look around the car. A couple books on what seemed to be Greek, and she cursed not knowing the language. Not even pictures on them, and she wondered for a moment how good can a book be if it has no pictures.
Bored on that car, she began missing the entertainment she had while on the future. Fifty years separate her from the talkies, and at least thirty from movies altogether. While she could go to a theatre -in theory- this seemed impossible while trapped on Featherhill. And even in London, an unaccompanied lady would be a cause for strange looks or worse. Books and the occasional visits from others were most of what she had to entertain herself. She had to admit it, even if only to herself. The last few days looking for artefacts surpassed anything else for her in ways to keep herself entertained.
"You seem familiar." The voice of Arthur brought her back to reality. "Have we met before?"
"In the vault below the palace, are you alright?"
"My head hurts. Every time I wake up, it's the same ache." He motioned to a pitcher on the desk. "Water, please."
"Sure."
Alice moved her hand and the pitcher flew to him. Before she could conjure a glass or cup, he had drank the water until the thing was empty.
"Thank you." He looked at her again. "You do seem familiar. What's your name?"
"I'm Lady Alice Athenida."
"Nice to make your acquaintance. I'm Arthur, the once and future king of the Britons. Now, tell me. Where is this contraption taking us?"
"Wales," Alice said, and, when she saw the confusion on the man's face, added: "Close to Broceliande."
"Broceliande? As in the forest?"
"Yes, you know the place?"
"Know it? I planted that forest! My castle should be nearby!"
When he said that, Alice remembered. She remembered the large stones she found near the bog. Same type as those on the Tower. She remembered the painting in her mother's study of a very old ship called Prydwen. She kicked herself for not noticing the reason why her father wanted Arthur to stay away from the bog itself.
Those were the ruins of Camelot.
Her father had sent the king back home.
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