Power & Majesty (16 page)

Velody rolled her eyes at her friend. ‘Just because you smile and flirt if someone gives you so much as a glass of water doesn’t mean I have to, and I want to know why someone I’ve never met before sent me such an expensive present.’

Their host laughed. ‘You’re right to be suspicious, demoiselle. There is no need to worry. I sent the tickets at the request of a mutual friend.’

Velody frowned. ‘Who?’

The Orphan Princel reached out and sipped from a glass of water. ‘He likes cats,’ was all he said.

Oh, hellfire. It was the mad Ducomte after all. ‘Is he stalking me now?’ Velody demanded. ‘Are you part of his weird little games?’

The Princel smiled a sweet, sad smile. ‘Hardly that, my sweet. He was afraid he had upset you, and asked me to make amends on his behalf.’

‘Why can’t he make his own amends?’

‘Perhaps he thought you would not accept them from him?’

‘Perhaps I won’t accept them from you.’

‘Perhaps, perhaps. A world of perhaps. Has anyone ever told you that you’re awfully suspicious? No wonder my friend was so worried about offending you…I’m rather frightened myself.’

‘I rather doubt that,’ said Velody, glaring at him.

Delphine was looking from one to the other. ‘Are you two sure you don’t know each other?’

‘Positive,’ said Velody.

‘You give me little credit, demoiselle dressmaker,’ said the Princel in his light, musical voice. ‘I know many things about you.’ He stood, walking three steps past Delphine so that he could lean towards Velody’s ear. ‘I know that you dream of little brown mice.’

Velody stared at him.

He gave another of those sad smiles. ‘Mine was white rats. If you ever have any questions, I want you to know you can come to me. I remember what it is to be young and afraid and new to the game.’

Velody didn’t want to ask what game he was talking about. ‘I have one question for you, seigneur Princel. If we try to leave now, will you stop us?’

‘I don’t want you to leave yet,’ he said with a shrug of his bony shoulders. ‘But I will not stand in your way.’

Velody reached out her hand to take Delphine’s. ‘Time to go.’

‘I wish you’d tell me what’s going on,’ Delphine complained as they headed for the door. ‘You’re both scaring me.’

‘Me too,’ Velody said in an undertone.

The door was locked. Somehow, Velody was not surprised. ‘Let us out of here,’ she demanded.

The Princel wasn’t smiling now. ‘Only after I have shown you the truth, demoiselle dressmaker. This is your future.’

He changed before their eyes, his body dissolving down into something…else.

Delphine started screaming.

A
shiol only intended to close his eyes for a minute. When he awoke, his body precariously balanced beside Hel in her bed, the tent was almost completely dark.

‘Damn,’ he said aloud. ‘What time is it?’

Heliora yawned and shifted against him without opening her eyes. ‘I’m sure the Ducomte d’Aufleur can afford a waterclock for every room in his house, but we peasants have to rely on the good old sun. I don’t have one handy right now.’

Ashiol sprang out of bed and pulled back the gauze curtain to search for his clothes in the main section of the tent.

Hel pulled the covers more tightly around her. ‘On the other hand, if that candle of mine burned down to the nub, it must be past sundown.’

‘I suppose it’s too much to hope that any stalls selling boots will still be open for business?’

‘Unlikely. Most of the vendors pack up around dusk, except the ones trading in food, booze, religious artefacts and loose women.’ Heliora pushed herself up on one elbow. ‘Where do you have to go that’s so important, Ash?’

He padded back across the tent floor to drop a kiss on the top of her head. ‘To save the city, of course.’

‘Again?’

‘Job’s never done.’

‘And when will you be back? Six months? Another five years?’

‘Something like that.’

‘At least Garnet used to bring me presents when he wanted me to See things.’

‘I thought you never gave him visions of the future.’

‘He still brought presents.’

‘I’ll buy you a giltfish in a glass next time I’m passing.’

Ashiol made to move away from the bed, but Hel slid her arms around his neck.

‘Don’t go. You’re exhausted, and your feet hurt. What will one nox of sleep hurt?’

‘With the rest of the Court up and about between dusk and dawn? I hate to think.’

Heliora’s arms tightened. ‘An hour then. I’m cold, Ash. Come to bed.’

Ashiol tapped her on the nose. ‘You’re seven hells of a woman, Hel. If I was the settling-down kind…’

That did the trick. She slammed her arms away from him so quickly that the bed almost spun. ‘Get lost.’

‘I knew you’d see it my way.’

‘Next time, send Macready to beg for a vision of the futures!’ she yelled as Ashiol made for the tent flap. ‘He’s cuter than you anyway!’

‘And is she not a sweet lass for saying so?’ broke in a cheerful brogue from outside the tent.

Ashiol almost jumped into the air. ‘Mac?’

‘Out here, my King.’

‘How long have you been there?’

‘How long is a piece of string, or a sweetheart’s smile, or a sunset?’ Macready’s tousled head pushed through the tent flap. ‘Long enough to hear the demoiselle compliment
my charms in those dulcet tones of hers.’ He waved a hand at Heliora. ‘Hello, my lovely.’

‘Piss off,’ she said, throwing the blankets over her head.

‘I wouldn’t have interrupted such a tender moment,’ said Macready. ‘We only thought you’d want to know about this dressmaker of yours.’

Ashiol pushed his way out of the tent. It was definitely nox. The Basilica was all but closed down, although, as Heliora had predicted, the food stalls at the far end were still bustling. ‘What has the dressmaker done now?’

‘She’s taking in a show at the Vittorina Royale,’ Macready said apologetically.

Ashiol stared at him. ‘Oh,
fuck
.’

‘Isn’t that just what I thought you’d say?’

There were rats everywhere, and Delphine wouldn’t stop screaming. Velody beat on the door with her fists, but there was no response to her yells and thumps. Rats clawed at her back and her neck and her hair. Tiny teeth sank into her left shoulder. She swatted at the horrible creatures and kept yelling for help, scraping her useless fists against the solid wood of the door.

There was a crash, and Delphine’s screams turned into broken, muffled sobs.

Velody whirled around. The white rats were gone, replaced by a single, powerful creature, upright like a man and glowing, clawed and sharp-toothed like the rat and only barely recognisable as the Orphan Princel. He grabbed her by the upper arms and flung her across the room so that she crashed into the weeping, huddled figure of Delphine.

I can fight him
, she found herself thinking.
He’s afraid of me, and I don’t know why. If I did, maybe I could fight back.

But then the tall rat-man melted and shaped himself back into the gang of red-eyed, white-furred rats, and they poured across the floor towards the two huddled women.

I am not going to cower and scream like some helpless Centi opera heroine
, Velody said sternly to herself, but when the creatures started swarming over her again, it was too hard to be brave and her screams rivalled Delphine’s.

Backstage at the Vittorina Royale, Ashiol and Macready found Kelpie confronting a huge slab of a man outside the star’s dressing room. He smelled of the Creature Court, and it didn’t take a genius to work out whose courteso he might be.

Come to think of it, Ashiol had caught sight of this one earlier that day, though they hadn’t been introduced.

‘You don’t want to do this, Halberk,’ Kelpie warned, her steel Sister hovering at the big man’s throat. ‘One last time, where’s the damned key?’

Halberk grinned widely. ‘Zero has it,’ he said in a thick Inglirren accent.

Kelpie hissed between her teeth. ‘And where is Zero?’

‘Running errands. Could be anywhere, little blighter that he is. Very untrustworthy.’

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Stand aside, or I’ll start slicing things off.’

Halberk seemed unconcerned. ‘You’ve got a shiny sword and suddenly you’re a killer, little sentinel? Don’t see it somehow.’

Kelpie growled. ‘I didn’t say I’d kill you, meat sack. I said I’d slice bits off. Small bits. Many small bits.’ She glanced back over her shoulder and saw Ashiol. ‘Or failing that, I’ll just let him do it.’

‘Hello, Halberk,’ said Ashiol in a friendly voice. ‘Haven’t met officially, have we? I’m your Lord and master. Bow down before me.’

The big man looked him up and down, then snorted. ‘I’ve got a Lord and master, matey, and he ain’t you.’

Screaming started inside the room. A woman’s scream. Another, not-quite-so-helpless woman was yelling her head off and banging on the door. Ashiol was strangely pleased.

‘Do I have to remind you what a Creature King is, Halberk? Didn’t Garnet teach you that important little lesson?’

‘Garnet?’ Halberk spat at the ground. ‘Limp-wristed pansy. I wasn’t impressed by him, sonny boy, and I’m not impressed by you.’

‘Interesting.’ Ashiol brushed aside Kelpie’s blade so that he could stand nose to nose with Halberk. The effect was slightly marred by the fact that Halberk was half a head taller. ‘Obviously none of your Lord’s charm and diplomacy has rubbed off on you.’

Halberk smirked. ‘I’ve heard of you, Ashiol Creature King. I heard how loud you screamed and whimpered when our last Power and Majesty scratched a few scars into your pretty cheeks. I don’t think you’ve got anything to scare me with.’

Ashiol smiled his friendliest smile. ‘Why are the big ones always stupid?’ he remarked to no one in particular, and then sank his teeth into Halberk’s throat.

It was a hard snap of a bite, teeth grinding into flesh and blood. Halberk dropped to his knees and Ashiol went with him, his jaw slamming harder into the powerful grip. He could taste the courteso’s history in the thick skin of his neck, knew by the taste of his animor that he was bear, and forty-seven years old, and had quite a few unsavoury sexual practices. And yes, Ashiol could taste Halberk’s Lord and master in the bloody flesh, but there were no surprises there.

Halberk went limp, and Ashiol punched him to the floor, then leaped to his feet. Kelpie and Macready were trying to shoulder the heavy door, but it held well under their assault. Calmly, Ashiol moved them both aside.

‘The screaming stopped,’ said Kelpie, sweat dripping down her face. Even as she said it, the screams started up again—both women this time, high and shrill and in absolute screeching terror.

Ashiol could have gone chimaera and made the door crumble under his weight, but with Halberk’s blood still dripping from his mouth he was in a mood to be civilised. He rapped on the door. ‘Poet, if you don’t let us in, I’m going to start taking mouthfuls out of your large friend here, and when he’s run out of arms and legs I’m going to start on you.’

The screaming stopped again. A few moments later, a key was turned in the lock and the door opened. Poet shrugged a silken dressing gown over his naked body, and drew a pair of his round spectacles from the pocket to place on his face. ‘Lucky I keep a spare key in here,’ he said in a friendly voice. ‘I never know when my boys are going to take it upon themselves to lock me inside.’ He glanced past Ashiol to the crumpled, damaged mess that was Halberk. ‘Glad you didn’t kill him.’

Ashiol smiled with his bloodsmeared mouth. ‘They never taste as good when they die.’

A glint of humour appeared in Poet’s eyes. ‘And isn’t that a shame?’

Ashiol pushed Poet aside, striding into the dressing room. The two women were backed into the far corner beside the dressing table, hands clutching at each other for comfort. Without a word, Ashiol walked towards them. He reached for the nearest—the blonde—and scooped her into his arms. She sagged like a broken doll.

With a hesitant look at Poet, Macready followed Ashiol, but the dressmaker gave him a dirty look as he approached her. ‘I can walk by myself.’

‘I’m sure you can, demoiselle,’ said Ashiol. ‘Let’s take it outside, shall we?’

The blonde in his arms closed her eyes and moaned. She smelled of champagne, ciocolate and artificial roses.

‘Velody,’ said Poet in a clear voice. ‘The dressmaker’s name is Velody.’ He gave Ashiol a scornful look. ‘You didn’t even know that.’

Ashiol carried the blonde out of the dressing room, and
out of the theatre. He didn’t have to look to know that the dressmaker—Velody—was following, Macready at her side whether she wanted him there or not, and that Kelpie had fallen in behind them.

The performers and backstage crew barely gave a second look to this strange, grim procession. Perhaps demoiselles were carried half-unconscious out of the Orphan Princel’s dressing room every day. Ashiol didn’t particularly want to think about that.

Poet followed them all, at a restrained distance.

The cool nox air hit Ash hard after the muggy atmosphere of the theatre. Away from the thick scents of greasy cosmetick and sweat, it was like stepping out of the shadows into the light.

‘Put her down,’ said Velody.

‘She’s not heavy,’ said Ashiol. ‘We’ll see you safely home.’

‘I said, put her down.’

Power rolled off the fierce dressmaker and it wasn’t the kind of power he was used to tasting. Ashiol lowered the blonde to the cobblestones, allowing her to find her own feet. She grabbed at Velody, and the two of them held each other.

‘Now,’ said Velody in a calm voice, ‘I’m afraid I don’t have any threats left in me, so you’ll just have to imagine them. But we are going home alone right now, the two of us. I don’t imagine there is anything on the streets that is nearly as much of a threat to us as you people.’ Her gaze took in Poet, shivering in his thin robe, but also Kelpie, Macready and Ashiol himself. ‘I don’t know what this game is,’ she added, her voice shaking only a little. ‘But our part in it ends now. You will not approach me or follow me, you will not come near my house, and you will not touch my friends. Is that understood?’

After a moment, Poet bowed his head in a polite acknowledgement.

Ashiol hesitated, then nodded. ‘I think that is the least we owe you.’

‘Yes,’ Velody said in a terrible voice. ‘I think it is.’ Gently, she turned her shaking friend and guided her away from the theatre, heading towards Vittorine.

Ashiol watched them until they were almost at the end of the street, then nodded at Kelpie and Macready. ‘Follow them discreetly. I’ll be along later, when I’ve had a word with our friend here.’

The sentinels nodded and set off, moving swiftly and silently.

Standing side by side, Ashiol and Poet stood and watched until the brave little dressmaker had turned a corner and moved out of sight, unaware of her two shadows.

‘I like her,’ Poet said eventually. ‘She’s going to be
fun
.’

Ashiol stared at the Rat Lord’s feet. They were about the right size. ‘Got any boots I can borrow?’