‘Very well.’ He kissed lower, and lower, and then he was between her breasts. ‘Let me know when it’s a proposal.’
Velody had a very good reply to that, but his teeth closed gently around her nipple and she lost her grip on her animor. It collided with his in explosive bursts barely contained by skin and flesh and bone.
Maybe later.
The train pulled into the station at the south gate a little before noon the day before the Saturnalia. Velody, Ashiol and Kelpie stepped onto the platform surrounded by clouds of steam.
‘Aufleur’s still here, then,’ said Kelpie.
‘I suppose that’s something,’ said Ashiol.
Velody stared into the steam, looking for answers, but received nothing but grit in her eye.
‘What now?’ Kelpie asked.
Ashiol stood there looking as if the weight of the world had once more settled across his shoulders. ‘Now we end this thing. We save the city and we stop the skywar.’
‘Is that all?’ Velody said. ‘How do you plan to do that?’
Ashiol shrugged. ‘It comes down to me and Garnet. That’s what it’s always been about. Especially now. Lysandor’s dead, and Livilla. Priest. We’re the only ones left from the last generation. Time to rewrite the next chapter of history.’
A lone figure stepped out of the steam, making Velody jump.
‘You always did forget about me, kitten,’ said Poet.
Ashiol stared at him. ‘What do you want?’
Velody could feel his anger swell up inside him and stepped forward to place a calming hand on his arm. It was a mistake, perhaps. She could see Poet look from her to Ashiol with a knowing smirk.
‘Do you have a message from Garnet?’ she asked.
‘Mouseling,’ said Poet, terribly pleased with himself. ‘you’ve been away too long. I’m not speaking for Garnet. I’m speaking for the fucking resistance.’
The Vittorina Royale was a ruin now, a blight on the street. The destruction of the ceiling had allowed in the rain, and the velvet seats and curtain were mouldering away. The floorboards creaked worryingly underfoot.
Poet walked through the mess as if he saw none of it, and led them down a back staircase into the dressing rooms, which were, remarkably, untouched.
‘Through here, my sweets,’ he said with a flourish.
Ashiol did not trust him yet. Might never trust him again. He had never been entirely comfortable about Poet, from the day that Garnet had brought the little rat home with him. He stepped through the door first. If there was a trap, let it fall upon him and not Velody or Kelpie.
Inside, he blinked rapidly. Too many people were pressed into the small room. The new courtesa, Topaz, was curled up in a corner with the rest of those wretched children Livilla had been towing around with her since she’d stolen them from Poet.
(Livilla was dead, remember that.)
Mars had the bed, and sat against the headboard with an indolent look on his face. His courtesi, all five of them, clustered about his feet.
Poet’s courtesi were here, too: the weasel, Zero, and the hound, Shade.
Lennoc sat on the far side of the dressing room beneath a ragged poster advertising ‘The Pearls Beyond Price’.
‘What have we here?’ Ashiol asked.
Velody stepped in behind him, and he could feel Kelpie’s presence close to his back.
‘Fucker killed Livilla,’ said Mars, flashing his teeth. ‘I know the rest of you don’t give seven damns about that, but I do.’
‘I care,’ Topaz flared. ‘We all do.’ Meaning the lambs, presumably, though none of them spoke a word. Mouthy, this one, for a courtesa. ‘She was our Lord and we loved her.’
Lennoc gave a long, easy shrug. ‘I didn’t like Livilla. I don’t like any of you. But Garnet has gone too far. He’s crazier than you ever were,’ he added with a nod to Ashiol.
‘Impressive,’ said Ashiol, otherwise at a loss. ‘And you, Poet?’
Poet snaked around the women to stand directly in front of Ashiol. ‘I’ve lost faith,’ he said with a crooked smile.
‘Simple as that?’
‘Does it have to be complicated?’
‘Why should I trust you?’
‘You shouldn’t, obviously. But then, you never did.’ Poet swallowed, losing his brashness for a moment. ‘Garnet killed Livilla for a reason. He’s going after Topaz and the lambs next. He thinks it’s the only way to save the city. What do you think?’
Ashiol sighed. ‘I think it’s time we took Garnet down.’
‘Leaving you as Power and Majesty?’ Mars drawled. ‘Or will it be her ladyship again?’ He flicked a glance in Velody’s direction.
‘We don’t need to decide that now,’ said Velody, finding her voice.
‘The hells we don’t,’ said Lennoc. ‘No more civil wars, no more revolutions. If we’re going to risk our lives getting rid of Garnet, we need to know what we’re in for. Are you two going to turn on each other and fight to the death the second there’s a position at the top?’
‘In the old days of the Court,’ said Velody, stepping up to stand beside Ashiol, ‘there were two leaders. A Power and a Majesty.’
There was a long silence as they all looked at each other, and then Poet began to laugh hysterically.
‘How sweet,’ he said. ‘Mama and Papa will look after us together. I can’t see any reason at all that could go wrong.’
45
‘What do you think?’ Velody asked Kelpie as they walked to Via Silviana together while Ashiol headed for the Palazzo.
‘I don’t trust Poet,’ Kelpie said instantly. ‘I don’t think he’d choose you and Ashiol over Garnet. It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Were they lovers?’ Velody asked.
Kelpie rolled her eyes at her. ‘It’s the Creature Court.’
Well, yes, there was that.
Velody was so anxious to check on Delphine and Rhian, she hurried around to the house by the back way and threw open the back door. The kitchen wasn’t there. Only a blank brick wall.
She pushed her hands against the solidity of it, not believing what she felt. ‘What the hells …?’
‘I’m impressed,’ said Kelpie, and she actually sounded it. ‘Maybe that dumb flapper of yours is a real sentinel, after all.’
Velody frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Kelpie leaned in, resting her palms on the solid brickwork. It was neat and tidy, the bricks arranged like rows of ribbons between layers of thick granite mortar. ‘Someone’s turned your house into a sentinel’s nest. About bloody time. We should have thought of it months ago.’
Velody stared at her, then hammered on the brick wall. It made no sound, not even a muffled thump.
‘Amateurish work,’ Kelpie observed. ‘That’s a dead giveaway.’
‘As opposed to a brick wall behind a door?’
Kelpie nodded. ‘Might be an idea to get rid of the door.’
‘Delphine!’ Velody yelled.
The bricks vanished under her hands and a blur of blonde hair and green dress exploded out of the house and hugged her. ‘Velody! You’re back.’
‘And you’re … turning the house into a nest?’
Delphine beamed at her. ‘I am. Isn’t it great? Finally we can keep the bastards out — hi, Kelpie — if they’re not invited. Of course it does mean we can never have clients across the threshold again, but who are we kidding? Everything’s different now.’
The kitchen looked as normal, though the walls were greyer than they had been before. Once Velody and Kelpie were inside, Delphine closed the wall and there was a shimmer as it sealed them away from the world.
‘Majesty,’ said Macready with a nod. He sat at the kitchen table with Crane standing behind him.
‘Not that,’ said Velody. ‘Not yet, anyway.’
‘You brought our man Ashiol back?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘We were worried,’ Crane said evenly. ‘We read the newspaper. Baz
eppe hasn’t been mentioned in days. We started asking people …’ His voice broke off and he looked away, avoiding her gaze.
‘Are we next?’ Delphine asked in a low voice. ‘I’d hate to get swallowed by the sky just when I’m figuring out how this sentinel thing works.’
‘I think it depends on whether we stop Garnet,’ said Velody.
‘Garnet’s after saving the city himself, is he not?’ asked Macready.
‘I don’t know,’ said Velody. ‘I don’t like his methods. I don’t think he can be trusted to know what’s best for the city. The rest of the Court are on our side, as long as we win.’
‘That’s good,’ Delphine grinned. ‘Garnet has no idea what he’s up against.’
There was a powerful tang of skysilver in the air. Velody stepped through to the workroom and saw the skysilver cage sitting there in the middle of the floor.
‘Where did that come from?’
‘Poet handed it over as proof he’s on our side,’ said Delphine. ‘I don’t believe a word of it, but he seemed happy to be rid of the thing.’ She shrugged. ‘It gives me the creeps, but if anything should be in the hands of the sentinels, it’s that.’
There was something else different about the room. The work surfaces were clear and tidy, except where Delphine’s ribboning supplies were spread out near the sewing machine. There was no sign that any floristry had been done here in recent times.
‘Where’s Rhian?’ Velody asked. She saw it on Macready’s face first, that something was wrong. ‘Tell me.’
‘She’s upstairs,’ said Delphine. ‘But I wouldn’t —’
Velody ran.
Water seeped out from under Rhian’s bedroom door. Velody tugged the door open and stepped into darkness. It shouldn’t be this dim in here, it was daylight, but there was something thick and porous blocking the window and only a few cracks of light broke through.
‘Rhian?’
There was a low moaning sound that chilled her to the bone.
The air was thick with many smells — scorched wood, dampness, and moss. Velody bumped into something that felt like a tree branch stretched across the room. She ran out and fetched a lantern from the hook in the hallway and took it in with her. Branches crisscrossed the room. Heavy webs hung from them. The floor was wet, and Rhian’s old rag rug squelched underfoot.
‘Rhian, where are you? I can’t see …’
Velody faltered. There, in the centre of it all, Rhian lay on her back on the bed. The twisting branches and vines were growing out of her body. As Velody stepped closer, she saw a broken pattern across Rhian’s face, like cracks in a cliffside.
‘What happened to you?’
Rhian spoke slowly, her mouth moving to form the words, her throat pushing out creaky, hesitant sounds. ‘I happened. It came from inside me. I don’t hear the futures any more …’
And then she was crying, moaning louder, and there was a terrible sound coming from everywhere, a creaking and grinding that filled Velody’s ears. The branches turned into smooth arches of stone. Rhian’s body shook and broke apart, and then the greyness came over her and she was stone, too, the rigid form of a statue.
Velody pressed her hands to her mouth, shaking so hard she thought she would fly apart.
‘It’s better this way,’ said a low voice from the doorway. ‘I think she doesn’t feel pain when she’s stone. It’s awful when she’s fire; and when the water comes, she just weeps all the time.’
Velody turned. ‘Delphine, what happened?’
‘This is what she was hiding from,’ Delphine said hoarsely. ‘All those months, we thought she was afraid of going outside. But it was this. This is what she was afraid of.’
There was nothing Velody could say or think to make this all right. ‘She’s not dead?’
‘No. The cycles are getting shorter, though. As if whatever is going to happen … it’ll be soon.’
‘It’s the first day of Saturnalia,’ said Velody. ‘It’s happening already.’
She turned back to look at the twisted statue that had been Rhian, that would be her again if Delphine was to be believed. ‘Is this from the sky? More of their poison, more of them trying to get under our skin? Or was it here all along? Is it part of their attack, or part of our defence?’
‘I’m starting to wonder if there’s much difference between the two,’ said Delphine. She looked crumpled, as if days or weeks of denial were finally coming to an end. ‘I was so mean to her,’ she burst out.
Velody went to her, and they both held back in a moment of hesitation before they hugged.
‘You’re always mean,’ Velody said softly. ‘She probably didn’t even notice.’
Delphine laughed and sobbed into her shoulder. ‘Shut up, I was vile. I told her I was sorry, but I don’t think she even heard me.’
‘She heard,’ Velody whispered. ‘She knows.’
It didn’t matter if it was true. They were losing Rhian. The city might as well fall now.
At the Palazzo, Ashiol dodged that fop Armand and made his way unhindered to Isangell’s rooms.
‘You really should hire more intelligent servants,’ he began as he entered, then stopped.
His cousin stood in the middle of her sitting room, trying on her wedding gown. It had a wide, starchy skirt with hoops such as those worn by demoiselles of the previous generation. Bunches of white satin were gathered with green silk vines and curling ribbons. The corset had Floralia roses studded on it in pearls and pale pink beading. There was a train. And a cape. And a bonnet, saints help him, a bonnet. It was the ugliest thing Ashiol had ever seen in his life.
‘You didn’t commission that from Velody,’ he said, when he had recovered enough from the shock to speak.
Isangell glared at him. ‘I wasn’t aware she had time for commissions these days. Besides, this is an heirloom.’
‘Are you sure you’re supposed to wear it? It’s not a spare tower someone broke off the Cathedral of Ires?’
‘It was my mother’s.’
‘Oh, by all means emulate Aunt Eglantine’s life choices — they worked out so well for her. If you must have an antiquated frock, why don’t you send to my mother? I’m sure she has one or two wedding dresses in mothballs that won’t make your groom think you’re wearing the cake.’
Isangell threw something at him. Ashiol had no idea what it was, but it was white and satiny and went clunk when it hit the wall behind his head. A bridal sack, perhaps? It wouldn’t shock him if Aunt Eglantine had installed missiles in her wedding dress.
‘Hang on,’ he said, straightening up. ‘Who do you think you’re marrying?’
‘Comte Niall of Bazeppe, of course,’ she said impatiently. ‘You’re my ambassador, Ashiol. You’ve been dealing with the paperwork. Come to that, what on earth are you doing here? You were supposed to stand in my stead at their Saturnalia dinner. I won’t have you neglecting the few official duties that I request of you.’
Ashiol stared at her. ‘Isangell, Bazeppe is gone.’
Gone, broken, rendered to dust, and she shouldn’t remember a single brick of it. His mother and siblings didn’t, nor any of the servants.
‘Gone where? Make sense if you can, Ash.’
How could he explain it? He’d never had to before, not to anyone of the daylight.
‘Bazeppe fell. Like Tierce fell.’
Isangell steadied herself with a hand. ‘You mean, smashing into one of my districts?’
‘It was swallowed by the sky.’
‘Nonsense! It’s a whole city, Ashiol.’
‘A whole city,’ he agreed. ‘And it’s gone. No one of the daylight remembers it even existed.’
Her eyes grew flinty. ‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying that Bazeppe —’
‘You must be mistaken.’
‘I saw it fall, I know what happened. It’s not exactly something you forget, gosling.’
‘Forgive me, Ash, but you’re not the world’s most reliable witness.’
He sat down hard on her floral sofa. ‘If you remember Bazeppe and Niall, and … name the Duc!’
‘Duc-Elected,’ she corrected him promptly. ‘Henri. You’re being ridiculous.’
‘It means you’re not daylight any more,’ Ashiol said, trying to take it in. ‘You’re something else.’
Isangell’s eyebrows rose sharply. She had never looked more like her mother. ‘No. I am not one of your wretched animals. I have accepted the Creature Court’s existence, and your ability to spark lightning from your hands and turn into a herd of cats, which explains an awful lot about your personality, I must say, but I am not a part of all that.’
‘But you remember Bazeppe.’
‘Stop saying that!’ Isangell turned with some difficulty and flounced towards her sideboard to pick up a fountain pen. ‘I am writing a note to Niall right now. It will be on the train to Bazeppe today, and when he writes back it will prove to you that you are speaking nonsense.’
‘There is no train to Bazeppe, Isangell. It doesn’t exist any more.’
‘So you say.’
Having written her note, she rang for her factotum. ‘Armand, please include this letter for Bazeppe in today’s post.’
The factotum blinked and smiled politely, taking it all in his stride. ‘Bazeppe, high and brightness, as you say.’
‘Aren’t you going to ask her which country?’ Ashiol drawled, putting his feet up on the sofa.
‘Don’t be a fool. Armand knows which country,’ Isangell snapped.
Armand’s smile grew wider and more polite. ‘Indeed, high and brightness.’
Oh, the little oik was bluffing.
‘Go on, then,’ Ashiol said. ‘Tell us.’
‘Ashiol,’ Isangell chided ‘you’re being —’
‘An arse, yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t have the faintest idea what we’re talking about.’
‘Of course I know,’ Armand said, losing an edge of his politeness. ‘Bazeppe is one of the cities of Nova Stella.’ He smiled, pleased with his clever guess.
Isangell swallowed. ‘Oh, no.’
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