But he hardly appeared to acknowledge her presence, and if he did, it was with a tart impatience. ‘I have never had an interest in you. Don’t try any tricks on me. Are you alone on this rock?’
She hissed at him. ‘Don’t worry, Miah. My army is gone from me. I cannot orient anyone alone, and I am vulnerable. To the weather. To the sea. To unwanted guests. Am I to be a prisoner then?’ She sniffed. ‘No, too dangerous I would think. Best I be your conquest, your kill. But wait. What is that I sense? An … obsession? Ah, who’d have believed it? Jeremiah Riven has become weak and fallen in love.’
He crossed the room in three strides, snatched Bellis up by her thin neck. ‘Shut up, defiler. You will speak nothing of me.’
‘Then why are you here, brute? If you’ve lost your mind with some clumsy romance, I’m afraid I’ll not make a good replacement.’
‘Devil—’
‘Lady, gentleman. Please. No fussing.’ One of the other occupants of the shoreboat had finally made his way to the overhang. A slight, fey little creature, shorter even than herself, with a pretty face more suited to a girl than a man.
Miah released her and stomped off to the crudely mortared balcony, fists creaking inside his leather gloves. The little man smiled upon seeing Bellis.
‘It’s good to meet you properly, Mrs Harrow-Riven.’
‘Well then,’ she said, rubbing her throat. ‘Why do I think I’ve seen you before, Lyonnian?’
‘I am Mr Lindsay,’ he said, still puffing from having to navigate rocks Miah had merely walked over. ‘We have been in each other’s orbit a long time.’
Bellis only sniffed uninterestedly. ‘A Lion, then. I have always been followed by Lions. Perhaps you were always lurking in some shadowy room, thinking I wouldn’t notice.’
‘Did you notice?’
Her nostrils flared. ‘Would I have run, if I had not noticed?’
He looked back at Miah, pacing the rocky balcony impatiently. ‘I was hoping the pair of you would come together as colleagues rather than enemies … given the symmetries you trammel. Given how much stronger the sum of you would be rather than your parts.’
Much as she tried to keep the dismissive mask upon her face, Bellis’ eyes narrowed. ‘What is your friend talking about, Miah?’
‘You wanted to go to Lyonne, to Clay once,’ Mr Lindsay continued.
She laughed. ‘Once. When I thought I was sanguis petrae and had a golden talent that anybody cared about. But I was kept from those places.’ She darted a daggered glance at Mr Lindsay. ‘Because I had a shadow in my blood.’
‘Because we were cowards,’ Mr Lindsay said. ‘Because we didn’t know what to do with you.’
‘And you know what to do with me now?’
Mr Lindsay laughed. ‘Not in the slightest.’
‘I’m going there,’ Miah interjected brusquely. ‘I have business in Clay Capital, to take back what was stolen from me. He,’ Miah nodded at the small man, ‘he suggested you should come.’
Bellis raised one eyebrow. ‘Are you implying, Mr Lindsay, that we form an alliance?’
Mr Lindsay grinned. ‘Sanguis orientis, sanguis mandatum. The two talents of direction and instruction. The hammer and furnace, the anvil and chain, same as our dear saint who was exiled to Equus and made their eternal mark. They do not have to exist in the same person to have an effect.’
Jeremiah Riven, known as Miah Anguis, only glowered.
‘I can’t say I’ll behave much,’ Bellis said.
‘On the contrary, perhaps it is chaos that I require,’ Mr Lindsay said. ‘To Clay we will go, orientis and mandatum in union. You may at last walk the streets denied you, and my friend Mr Anguis will recover his wife and his pride, and let all that have wronged us discover just what grave mistakes they have made.’
Acknowledgements
The usual suspects have not changed but special mention where it is due: Sarah Endacott, Andrew Macrae, Cat Sparks and Helen Stubbs, the old school LJ friends Catherine Buck and Janna G. Noelle for their support through the long eternities, the Writer Beers gang, the Cave Clan Night Crew, my friends and my family.
And on the professional end thanks to my agent Sam Morgan, Vicky Leech from HarperVoyager UK, Michael White and Lara Wallace from HarperCollins Australia, and those unsung others who worked behind the scenes and are responsible in no small part for this book’s existence.
About the Author
Pamela Crane is a USA Today bestselling author of almost a dozen novels. She loves writing about flawed and fascinating heroines. When she’s not cleaning horse stalls or changing diapers, she’s psychoanalyzing others.
You can find out more about her at www.pamelacrane.com
Also by Claire McKenna
The Deepwater Trilogy
Monstrous Heart
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