Reign of Beasts

by Tansy Rayner Roberts

  ‘All part of the job,’ he said.

  How intriguing that he was devoting so much energy into not looking at Rhian. Velody had no time to think about everyone’s strange behaviour. She and Kelpie headed south at a quick pace, matching each other.

  ‘It’s bad when the Lords start leaving the city,’ Velody said in an undertone. ‘Right?’

  ‘Right,’ Kelpie confirmed. ‘Rats leaving a sinking barge and all that.’

  ‘I should have paid more attention to Priest. After what happened with that devil that possessed him …’

  ‘You weren’t here,’ said Kelpie. There was an uncomfortable pause. ‘I don’t mean that like it sounded. Not in a bad way. You can’t expect to have sorted things out when you were somewhere else entirely.’

  ‘They didn’t do a great job without me, did they?’

  Velody was half-joking, but Kelpie turned a serious face on her.

  ‘No, they really didn’t. I never liked you much. But things are worse when you’re not here.’

  ‘Even if I brought Garnet back with me?’

  Kelpie’s face closed over and she turned away. ‘Don’t know how that’s going to turn out. I cried when the sky took him. Felt like a failure. But it was a relief, too.’

  ‘It might be different this time. He might be different.’ But Velody couldn’t promise that, could she? ‘I don’t know,’ she sighed. ‘I don’t know who he is, not really. Everything he said and did while we were trapped in that place could have been a lie to make me trust him. I haven’t even seen him since Ashiol tried to drown him in the Lake of Follies. Perhaps he caught a train, too.’

  Kelpie shivered. ‘Not him. He doesn’t back down. Not ever. Especially with people he loves.’

  They walked the rest of the way in silence. The morning sunlight was clear and bright by the time they reached the Aurian Gate. Despite the daylight, Velody felt something lift off her shoulders as she crossed through to the other side. ‘Oh,’ she said softly. Her animor was still there, pulsing in her veins. She could shape herself into little brown mice if she had to. But something was gone.

  ‘The sky’s different outside the city,’ Kelpie said quietly. ‘Isn’t it?’

  That was it. The sky over the city was something else entirely. It didn’t look any different, but she was free here, just as she was trapped when she was within the bounds of Aufleur.

  ‘Perhaps we should all get on the train,’ she muttered.

  ‘You don’t mean that,’ said Kelpie.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because you’re stronger than any of those stupid men.’

  Velody laughed. She couldn’t help it. She was still laughing when they stepped onto the station platform and saw Priest sitting there, a courtesa on either side of him and a large trunk at his feet.

  ‘Wish me luck,’ said Velody.

  Velody stepped forward, her buttoned-up boots making a little noise on the platform. A memory came unbidden: of her brother Sage coming out of the steam, of Cyniver waiting at the side for him to notice her, of that last visit home before everything ended. All temptation to step on a train herself and let it carry her away was gone in a moment. Aufleur would suffer the same fate as Tierce if they didn’t stay to fight. Garnet and Ashiol would be at each other’s throats — Garnet’s homecoming had proved that. They needed her.

  The gull courtesa, Damson, slid over to the other side of her Lord as Velody approached, making room for her. Priest looked unsurprised at her appearance.

  ‘My Lady,’ he said with courtesy, though the absence of ‘Power’ or ‘Majesty’ was tangible.

  ‘Why would you leave?’ she asked. ‘You, of all people?’

  ‘I seem a fixture among the Court, do I?’ Priest asked. ‘If that is the case, dear demme, you have not been paying attention. I have nothing holding me here.’

  ‘Nothing but an oath,’ Velody said.

  ‘Two oaths,’ he corrected her. ‘Both broken by death. Or cancelled out by each other.’

  ‘I’m not dead,’ she reminded him.

  Priest looked her over. ‘You died. It is enough.’

  ‘Are you so sure about that?’ she said. ‘Enough to risk becoming an oathbreaker? You know what happened to Dhynar Lord Ferax.’

  ‘If anything, it is Garnet who has the prior claim,’ Priest said, sounding entirely comfortable. ‘Perhaps you should raise the subject with him.’

  ‘Garnet isn’t here right now,’ said Velody. ‘Just me. Look me in the eyes, Priest, and tell me that you are willing to walk away from the city, from the Court, from your Power and Majesty.’

  He met her gaze placidly. ‘I have done it before.’

  ‘So why Bazeppe? Is that where you come from?’

  She knew he wasn’t from Aufleur, but had never detected a regional accent of any kind.

  ‘I have never been there before,’ said Priest. ‘But I hear things. They can use a man like me, I think.’

  ‘Why?’ she said. ‘Why leave? It can’t just be hurt feelings.’

  Priest shook his head. ‘You Kings. Mad, impatient children. No one in this Court has ever paid any attention to important matters. To the words spilled by Seers, or by the Smith. You have no history, no interest in learning anything, just sky, fight, frig, over and over again.’

  ‘What do you know?’ she demanded. ‘What do you think you know that makes you better than us?’

  ‘I know that the End of Days is upon us. I know that the salamander has joined the ranks of the Creature Court. I know that a devil climbed inside my skin and no one noticed until I started murdering children.’ He blew out a long breath of a sigh. ‘I know that if I stay, this city will kill me. Perhaps elsewhere I can be a great man again.’

  Velody could hear a screech in the distance. The train came rattling into sight, around a bend.

  She was caught by another memory, her first memory perhaps. Sage, sitting up on the wall at the south station in Tierce, dangling his legs. ‘Ever seen a steam angel, mouseling? Watch as the train rushes in. If you stare at the steam long enough, you can see people in it.’

  Little Velody, barely four years old, had stared valiantly into the steam until her eyes were sore and red from the dust and did not see a thing. Sage laughed all the way home.

  Dead, he was dead, the sky had taken him years ago. There was nothing left of her family. He would never have called her mouseling, either — it was a nickname of the Creature Court. Even her memories had been corrupted by this place.

  ‘This, I believe, is my train,’ said Priest as the engine slowed, filling the platform with dense smoke and steam. Velody stared into the steam for a moment, looking for the answer.

  Priest moved his head slightly and Velody followed his gaze. Ashiol stood on the edge of the platform, wind blowing his long black coat around him. He was staring into the steam as well. Velody turned her head and saw Garnet at the other end of the platform, posed just as dramatically. They stared at each other, no eyes for anyone else.

  ‘Go,’ she said softly.

  ‘Majesty?’ Priest was surprised enough to let the title slip out.

  ‘Who am I to stop anyone from escaping this life? Go, Priest. Have my blessing. I hope you find what you’re looking for.’

  Velody felt tired, so tired. She had thought coming home would solve everything, but she was back to this, to fighting over every moment, every conflict.

  Priest hesitated only a moment, then he stood, scooping his enormous trunk up as if it weighed nothing. ‘You are a true King, Velody,’ he said. ‘Good luck.’ Then he stepped onto the train, Damson and Fionella with him.

  The whistle blew, and more steam filled the station.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Ashiol demanded, striding towards Velody. ‘We have to stop him.’

  ‘Are you deliberately trying to weaken the city?’ Garnet demanded, approaching from the other side. ‘Do you want us to become a floating graveyard like Tierce?’

  ‘Being a King isn’t j
ust about gathering strength, or what we have to do,’ Velody snapped. ‘It’s about looking after our people.’

  ‘Priest can’t just run away,’ said Ashiol between gritted teeth. ‘You can’t let him go.’

  The train began to pull out of the station.

  ‘You’re one to talk,’ Velody yelled at Ashiol. ‘You’ve been trying to run away since you got here. You gave this city to me.’

  Gone. The train was gone. Priest was gone.

  ‘You left,’ Ashiol retorted. ‘Sacrificed yourself to the sky — what’s that but another form of giving up and running away? At least he’ — he nodded to Garnet — ‘didn’t mean to get himself killed. You both left me here. This is my city now.’

  ‘And how have you used the time, Ashiol?’ Velody hissed. ‘What grand changes have you wrought? You never even took their oaths!’

  ‘If Mama and Papa could stop fighting for a moment,’ Garnet said, sounding far too amused. ‘Let’s work this out like seigneurs. Velody has allowed Priest to escape. That leaves us with four Lords. I have Poet’s oath.’

  Ashiol hesitated. ‘I have Lennoc’s.’

  ‘You have Livilla,’ Ashiol and Garnet said in unison, then looked at each other in surprise.

  ‘Interesting,’ said Garnet.

  ‘Warlord says he will follow me,’ said Velody. ‘It comes down to Livilla’s vote.’

  ‘Vote?’ Garnet said dismissively. ‘The Creature Court is not a democracy.’

  ‘Nevertheless, we have a choice,’ said Velody. ‘We can try to fight to the death over who leads the Court, or we put the decision in Livilla’s hands and find an answer without spilling blood.’

  Ashiol and Garnet looked at each other. ‘Fight to the death,’ they agreed.

  PART III

  Rats and Cubs

  8

  Some might reckon I deserved what I got, for being daft enough to trust Tasha like that. You might even have put together that Madalena was more likely to have been torn apart by a demme who changes into a lion than a Lord who changes into birds. Aye, I was gullible, but that’s beside the point. I was already lost. I was sick for months, through Aphrodal and Floralis, sweating and feverish, drowning in crazy dreams. Tasha didn’t send me back to the theatre; she tended me, whispered motherly words into my ear. By the time I was right again, I was used to doing what she said, even if it was just opening my mouth for the soothing syrup, or turning my head so she could take the soaking pillow out from under me.

  I was hers. There was naught for me back at the Vittorina Royale. I’d been gone too long and without Madalena to be sentimental about me, I’d have been replaced within a week. Not much point going back to Oyster, either. The only family I’d ever known was the Mermaid Revue.

  Once, before my fever broke, I saw Bad Cravat sitting in a corner of my room, watching me. He was on his own, which was unusual. Tasha normally didn’t let anyone else in unless she was there too, so either she was with me or I was alone.

  Garnet, his name was. I remembered that. He was a mite taller than he had been, but fitted his fancy clothes no better than before. He’d be of age in a year or two, maybe. He was also drunk off his face. I was hazy, but I could smell it on him. He was talking, muttering to himself like he didn’t expect me to hear him. I was just there. It was all manner of nonsense about skies and blood and burning that made me think he had more than gin in his cup.

  I stirred, and he looked at me in surprise. ‘You’re awake.’

  My throat was too dry and hot to do more than croak. He brought me honey water, dripped it into my mouth a bit at a time, fumbling with the glass.

  ‘Welcome back to the land of the living, little rat.’

  ‘I dream of rats,’ I said when I could push out the words. ‘Big white ones. Clambering everywhere. I dream that all the time.’

  ‘Doesn’t surprise me,’ said Garnet.

  Even that small amount of talking was enough to wipe me out. I closed my eyes again, and when I opened them, he was gone.

  I got stronger after that, a little at a time. Tasha babied and cosseted me in a way I’d always wanted from Madalena. She called me her Poet, which I didn’t understand, but it was better than Boy or Baby. She delighted in my memory, packed with a lifetime of overheard plays and pantomimes, and as I recovered she made me recite stage verse to her until my voice went dry again.

  I’d do anything to please her. Anything.

  If the fever had harmed my voice, I have no doubt she’d have thrown me to the street. Or perhaps not. She knew a secret about me, after all. Something even I didn’t know yet.

  One morning I woke up and couldn’t think straight. It was like my mind was in a bunch of tiny bodies, all paws and tails and noses, running in a hundred different directions at once.

  You see where I’m going with this, don’t you?

  I climbed the walls, clung to the wooden eaves, hid under the bed, and when I realised what was happening — I was rats, big white rats, dozens of them — I was so shocked that I fell back into my human body and crashed to the floor, bruised and bloodied and panicked.

  Tasha came in, but I was screaming and crying and grabbing and she got bored fast. She shoved me down and walked away. ‘Deal with it,’ she snapped as she left.

  Three young seigneurs stood in the doorway looking at me. Garnet and the two others, one dark, one golden.

  ‘What’s happening to me?’ I yelled at them.

  Garnet came, pulled me up on the bed, found another of the seemingly endless pairs of pyjamas that Tasha liked to dress me in.

  ‘Rats,’ he said with a sigh. Not drunk this time. ‘Either of you pricks got a good way to explain it to him?’

  ‘I can’t change in front of him,’ said the dark one. ‘Cats might send the poor bugger completely over the edge.’

  The golden one shrugged. He unbuttoned his shirt, kicked off his breeches, and then … changed. I had seen stage tricks before, and this was no trick. I was too close to fool myself this was anything other than a fellow shaping himself into a large furry creature. He was gold and brown and lithe, and his pelt slithered over his muscles as he padded towards me. My fingers stilled on the pyjama buttons as I gazed in a mixture of horror and awe at the amazing creature.

  He licked my face, and the other lads cracked up at my horrified expression.

  ‘Nicely explained, Lysh,’ the dark one said, shaking his head.

  Garnet sat by me, one hand caressing the furry head of his friend. ‘This is Lysandor. He’s also a lynx. See his tufty ears?’ He tugged at the pointy tufts of hair that looked a bit like devil horns. ‘I’m Garnet. I’m gattopardi. Two of them. A bit like our friend here, but smaller, shinier. Better looking.’ Lysandor the lynx snorted and Garnet cuffed him lightly. ‘The smart-arse back there is Ashiol. Plain old house cats.’

  ‘Fuck you,’ said Ashiol, without any heat. ‘What’s your name, lamb?’

  ‘Poet,’ I said in a low voice.

  Lysandor was warm. I wanted to bury myself in his fur and go to sleep.

  ‘No,’ said Ashiol. ‘What was your name before you came here? Before Tasha got her talons into you?’

  ‘Poet,’ I said again, rebelliously.

  ‘Knows his own mind, doesn’t he?’ said Ashiol, sounding almost impressed.

  ‘I’m surprised he has any mind left after what she did to him.’

  ‘Shut your mouth,’ Ashiol said. ‘He doesn’t know.’

  I wasn’t stupid. They were talking about me like I wasn’t there, but that had happened a lot back at the Mermaid and the Vittorina Royale. I’d learnt to understand what adults said, even when they weren’t saying anything at all, and these were far from adults. I sat up straighter. ‘Where are we?’

  ‘We’re safe,’ said Ashiol, and this time it was Garnet who snorted. ‘Underground,’ Ashiol added, giving his friend a dirty look.

  ‘Still in the big city?’

  ‘Under it,’ said Garnet. ‘What do you remember, little rat?’
r />   I ran my hands through my hair. It was longer than ever before. The stagemaster hated it when our hair fell in our eyes — he docked the wardrobe mistress’s pay if she didn’t chase us around with her snippers every month — even the demmes. Long hair was no use if you were a lamb, and even if you made it up to the better roles, short hair made it easier to slap a wig on. No lice, either. But these boys all had longish hair, and now mine was, too. I kind of liked it.

  ‘I’ve been sick,’ I said.

  ‘Aye, but do you remember what made you sick?’ Garnet pressed.

  ‘Stop it,’ said Ashiol.

  ‘You can’t approve of what she did.’

  ‘It’s done now, and she’s our Lord. It’s none of our fucking business to approve or disapprove of what she does.’

  ‘I never realised you were such a good little servant, Ashiol. Almost like you were born to it.’

  Their faces were ugly as they sniped at each other. I ignored them, scratching Lysandor behind his ears. I didn’t know if he wasn’t changing back because he couldn’t yet or because he wanted to stay out of the argument.

  ‘Is this why I’m sick?’ I asked, interrupting them. ‘I mean … is this part of the sickness? Is it catching?’

  I had a horrible vision of all the lambs back at the theatre turning into creatures, crawling around and nibbling at the stage machinery, while the stagemaster howled and yelled until he turned into a giant bear or a walrus or something.

  Definitely a walrus.

  ‘You’re not sick,’ said Garnet. ‘I mean, not really. Once your body adjusts, you’ll be fine.’

  I tugged more firmly on Lysandor’s ears. ‘You’re saying this is normal? It’s not going to go away?’

  The two lads looked at each other, and I knew the truth. This was it. Forever. I was never going back to the Vittorina Royale.

  White rats.

  9

  It was a while before I found out about the rest of it. Tasha was keeping me hidden, I figured that out pretty fast. The lads — the cubs, she called them — were always getting summoned away for one thing or another. I wasn’t allowed outside the den. It was a stone building, like one of the sea cottages back home, but always dark unless there were oil lamps burning.