Authors: Tansy Rayner Roberts
Velody glared at him. ‘So if we had finished what we started on this kitchen table…if you had made me come, you could have taken my animor.’
‘You drank sentinel’s blood, you’re not—’
‘Don’t give me that,’ she said, breathing hard, still feeling the imprint of his mouth and fingers on her skin. ‘You should have told me. You know you should have told me what I was risking.’
‘Believe me,’ he growled, ‘it won’t be an issue in future.’
Velody crossed her arms over her body, afraid at how close they had got. ‘It had better not,’ she said. Especially considering—hells, Livilla’s blood oath. ‘I think you should go, Ashiol.’
He nodded, formality restored between them. ‘My Power. My Majesty.’
She couldn’t breathe properly until he was long gone.
D
elphine awoke to the sound of someone shuffling about in her wardrobe. As she peered sleepily across the room, several garments flew out, adding to piles already heaped on the floor and across her bed. ‘Velody, it’s too early for a fashion crisis,’ she groaned.
‘It’s past noon, so it is!’ The voice that emerged from the wardrobe was definitely not female. ‘Have you nothing at all practical to wear? Honestly, lass, there’s nothing in this cave of yours that isn’t tangled in beads and ribbons, or made of fabric so fine one good sneeze could tear it to shreds.’
Delphine pulled the covers defensively over her breasts. ‘Macready?’
The Islandser’s tousled head emerged from the wardrobe. ‘You had no brothers, I take it? Why Velody couldn’t have had a tomboy or two as friends, I don’t know. Trews, lass, trews.’
Delphine summoned as much poise as she could manage with a sleep-encrusted mouth, unbrushed hair and no cosmetick. ‘What the seven hells do you think you’re doing?’
Macready backed out of the wardrobe dusting off his hands. His face was unaccountably serious. ‘You were a liability last nox.’
‘
What
?’
‘Dhynar took you down as easily as breathing. Used you as bait to trap our Majesty into worrying more about you than herself.’ Macready rolled his eyes. ‘You haven’t the sense you were born with. Rhian’s no use in a brawl either, but at least she doesn’t step out from these walls. I may not be able to do much with her right now, but, by the saints and angels, I can do something with you.’
Delphine sat up, letting the covers slide down to her lap. Whatever he was up to, he wasn’t in this room to get an eyeful of her in her noxgown. ‘What exactly do you have in mind to “do” with me?’
Macready grinned suddenly, the expression lighting up his hazel eyes. ‘I’m teaching you to defend yourself.’
There was a flashing movement as he tossed a silvery knife at her. Delphine squeaked and threw the covers up. The knife hit the bedclothes with a soft thump. ‘Very funny.’
Macready moved towards her, reclaimed his knife and sat on the bed. ‘Not being able to stand up to Dhynar—well, that’s not entirely humiliating. The man’s an animal, no joke intended. But the other nox, you couldn’t even hold your own against a drunken fop who wanted to fumble you up against a fence.’
Heat rushed to her face as she remembered that nox. ‘I know how to kick a man if he gets too close.’
‘Do you now? Didn’t see much kicking at the time, lass. Seemed to me the only defence you had was to retch all over him, and that made him all the more of a mind to hurt you.’
She opened her mouth to protest, but he tapped her lower lip with his finger. ‘When I’m finished, coves like your Teddy boy won’t be able to lay a hand on you unless you want them to. And as for the Lords and Court…’
Macready’s smile this time was a slightly evil one. ‘Let’s just say you’ll be able to hold your own. What do you say, lass?’
‘Why are you doing this?’ she accused. ‘Why do you care what happens to me?’
The smile drained from his face. ‘As long as Velody is fretting about you and your lass Rhian, she cannot truly be our Power and Majesty, and she cannot keep herself alive as best she can. We’re down to three sentinels, and if we have to keep diverting one or two to watch out for daylight folk, we’re not protecting our Kings.’
‘So it’s for Velody,’ Delphine said sharply. Well, what had she expected?
‘For you all,’ and it was annoying how damned sincere he sounded. ‘You’re part of this world now, like it or not. Unless you want to cut Velody out of your lives altogether, you have to be prepared for danger.’ Macready shrugged. ‘What I’d really like is to get my hands on that Rhian of yours. She’s got a nice core of anger under all that shying and shuddering. Imagine what she’d be like with a knife in her hands and some idea of how to use it.’
Delphine felt almost dizzy at the thought of the difference it would make to their lives if Rhian felt confident enough to defend herself against attackers, confident enough to step out into the streets and take her life back into her own hands. ‘You think if she sees you teaching me, she might agree to learn herself?’
‘Worth a try, is it not? If she cannot bring herself to learn from me, maybe you could teach her in time.’
Delphine made up her mind. ‘Fine. If you’re so set on the idea, I’ll do it.’
And there was that smile again, so friendly and warm it was hard to believe it hadn’t been there a moment ago. ‘Good for you. So what can we find you to wear that won’t rattle out a tune or swoon into a dead faint when I wrestle you to the ground?’
When Velody awoke in her bed, it was well and truly daylight. Afternoon sun streamed in through her window. It was with some effort that she peeled back the many layers she had burrowed under hours earlier.
She had gone to sleep leaving the house full of men. How was Rhian dealing with all this?
A clash of blades alarmed her. She rushed to the window, dreading what kind of confrontation she might see as she looked down at their small yard.
Delphine and Macready were fighting with knives.
Velody blinked, not sure if she was quite awake. The vision failed to fade. Delphine wore one of last season’s dryad tunics with a pair of leggings Velody had only ever seen her wear around the house and never in front of male visitors. Macready was talking in a steady, low voice even as he jabbed a knife repeatedly in Delphine’s direction. She was actually rather good at deflecting it, although her expression suggested she couldn’t quite believe what she was doing.
The world was full of wonders. Velody pulled on her favourite faded blue workdress and headed downstairs. Her animor was still dormant, though she could feel something tingling in her bones that reassured her that it wasn’t too far away. In the meantime, she had at least one new commission she had to get started on—the waistcoat for Priest. If one of his courtesi had been wounded in battle, it was all the more important that she begin work on the gift she had promised him.
In the kitchen, she found Rhian standing where she could watch the antics in the backyard through the window as she kneaded bread dough. She looked surprisingly relaxed, especially since the back door was wide open and Kelpie and Crane were sitting on the steps, cradling mugs of hot ginger and calling out helpful remarks (Crane) and sarcastic comments (Kelpie) to the two duellists.
Velody opened her mouth to ask what was happening, then shook her head. ‘Forget it. I just don’t want to know.’
Rhian tossed a rare smile at her. ‘Macready said we should be able to defend ourselves. I’m not quite sure how he got Dee to agree.’
‘Dared her into it,’ Kelpie suggested from the steps.
‘He promised her she’d have a chance to carve a chunk out of him if she got good enough,’ said Crane, turning around to give Velody a melting smile. ‘How did you sleep?’
‘Eventually,’ she said, joining them at the doorway. She preferred not to go into the details of just what had kept her awake.
Macready and Delphine stopped their formal fight and just yelled at each other, waving the knives for emphasis.
‘Uh-oh,’ said Crane. ‘Here they go again.’
Even with the limited senses of a sentinel, Velody felt Ashiol enter the kitchen behind her a moment before he spoke.
‘Post’s in.’
She turned to see him holding out a sealed letter. He had a strange look on his face. The seal was gold-white wax, with the ducal rings clearly marked on it. Velody wanted to say something harsh about how he couldn’t stay away from the place, but she couldn’t take her eyes off that letter. It was easier than meeting Ashiol’s eyes.
She took it from him, cracking the seal open. ‘Did you arrange this?’
‘The Duchessa rarely consults me on her dress choices,’ he said with a touch of humour.
‘I’m not surprised, considering what you did to the last festival dress I made for her.’ Quickly, Velody read the letter of commission. ‘She wants me to make her a gown for the Sacred Games of Felicitas,’ she said finally. ‘Something extraordinary, she says, but a touch more robust than the roses of Floralis.’ She bit her lip.
‘That was a joke,’ said Ashiol.
Velody eyed him. ‘You think?’
‘That is wonderful,’ said Rhian.
Velody read the letter through again. ‘She wants to meet tomorrow to discuss the commission. I’ve got to get some samples together!’
She started towards the workroom, but Ashiol caught her by the arm. ‘This really matters to you?’
Velody barely saw him. Already she had a dozen fabrics and designs floating before her eyes. ‘Of course it matters,’ she said impatiently, and shook him off, eager to get started.
As she left the kitchen, Velody heard Ashiol say, ‘We’ve never had a Power and Majesty who cared about
anything
other than himself and the Court and the sky.’
‘Maybe that’s where you’ve been going wrong all these years,’ suggested Rhian.
Delphine was doing better than Macready had ever expected. Her reflexes were sharp and she was remarkably fit—probably from all that dancing she did, though he was surprised her taste for cocktails and party drugs hadn’t slowed her body down more. What might she achieve if she gave up those indulgences?
She was tiring now after several hours of training, but he didn’t want to stop. This was too important…like he was on the edge of discovering something magnificent. A thought, half-crazy, had intruded on his mind and would not let him go. Delphine was too good to be wasted.
‘Macready, I’m tired,’ she complained.
‘Take a rest for a minute then.’
‘Can’t we stop for the day? You can’t expect me to learn everything by noxfall.’
He ignored the whining tone in her voice. She was better than that. She just had to figure it out for herself.
‘Kelpie, lend me your steel Sister,’ he said.
Delphine wiped a sweaty tendril of hair back out of her face and gaped at him. ‘Her sword?’
‘Why?’ demanded Kelpie.
‘I want to test a theory.’
Delphine stepped back. Gripping the hilt of Macready’s steel dagger Phoebe at a mostly professional angle, she looked for a moment as if she was contemplating using it on him for real. ‘Why do I need to learn to use a sword? It’s not like I’ll be wearing one on my hip when I go out at nox.’
‘You never know,’ Macready said lightly.
‘No!’ Kelpie had never been slow. She stood up with her back straight against Velody’s kitchen door, her eyes burning at him. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘Why not?’
‘She’s a vapid, useless, drugged-up little tart with no more sense than what she was born with!’
A thwacking sound made them all jump. Macready stared for a moment at the knife that now quivered in the door only inches from Kelpie’s face. He turned around and glanced at Delphine, who stared back in something like shock that she had thrown the thing.
‘She has terrible aim,’ continued Kelpie, as if this proved her point.
‘Wasn’t aiming for your face,’ said Macready. ‘Were you, my lovely?’
‘Not exactly,’ said Delphine, her voice shaking. ‘But I wouldn’t have been heartbroken if she’d moved her head at the last moment.’
‘There you are,’ said Macready with a broad grin. ‘Sentinel material if ever I heard it.’
Delphine paled. ‘
What
?’
‘It’s a stupid idea,’ Kelpie said flatly. ‘The stupidest.’
‘We need new blood,’ said Macready. ‘You know it. We’ve had none in five years now, and three sentinels was barely enough to keep up with one King, let alone two.’
‘She’s too old.’
‘Do you not think it’s time we stopped sacrificing children to the nox?’
‘She’s not up to it.’
‘I think she is.’
‘Will you both just shut up!’ It was Delphine, blistering with fury. She stormed up to Macready, ignoring Kelpie altogether. ‘What makes you think you can go around deciding things for people? I don’t want to be part of your crazy nox with the blood and the death and the danger! You’ve already got Velody all tangled up in your web—what’s next? Will you be slitting Rhian’s throat at the next full moon?’
‘You’ve got it in you to do this,’ Macready said urgently.
‘No, I don’t,’ Delphine snapped. ‘I’m a trashy flapper who’s good at making festival garlands. That’s all I am.’
‘But you’re not content. You’re not happy with yourself. What’s the harm in trying something else—something extraordinary?’
‘Because I’m not extraordinary.’ Her mouth had twisted into something ugly—quite an achievement with a face like hers. ‘I’m not special. I’m not Velody. I don’t want to save the world. Half the time I don’t even want to live in it.’
‘So you won’t try,’ Macready said softly.
Delphine’s blue eyes blazed at him. ‘You can keep your knives and swords and self-defence, and the ghosts of your dead friends who used to be sentinels. I have better things to waste my time on.’ She stormed towards the house.
‘Like what?’ he called after her.
‘There’s a new club opening this nox!’ she yelled without even turning around. ‘I intend to wear something fabulous and get thoroughly smashed. If anyone wants what’s left of my body afterwards, they’re damned well welcome to it. Except you.’
‘Oh, nice,’ said Kelpie sarcastically. ‘Any more booze-addled whores you want to add to our number, Macready?’
‘I believe in you, Delphine!’ he shouted as she reached the kitchen door.
That made the lass pause, at least. She whirled around, her body trembling with rage and disbelief. ‘How could you
possibly
?’