‘I’m not choosing anyone,’ Kelpie snapped. ‘Don’t you dare accuse me of not doing my duty, not ever. I’ve walked through death and out the other side for you — not just for Aufleur or the Kings, but for you personally, Ashiol Xandelian, and I’d do it again in a second. Question my loyalty again and I’ll stab you in the throat.’
‘This is sweet,’ he said, impatient with her. ‘But I have a battle to prepare for. You’re not helping.’
Kelpie stood up, shaking out her coat. ‘You’ve had months to let yourself become Power and Majesty, and the mere thought of it had you in pieces. You’ve been drunk or drugged or mad or all three ever since the dust devils took the Seer down and Velody was swallowed from the sky. What the hells makes you think anyone will follow you?’
‘I’m not Garnet. And I’m not Velody. I can do this.’
‘You should have done it years ago,’ she said coldly. ‘We believed in you then. There’s not much left of that.’
‘I’ll prove you wrong,’ he told her.
Kelpie stepped forward, as if she was about to touch him, then stepped back again, out of reach. ‘I really hope you do.’
He shouldn’t have come. That much was clear. But it didn’t seem right to leave Garnet’s return unacknowledged.
Macready sat in the mouth of the narrow tunnel, his feet up on the curved wall. He didn’t have to wait long.
Footsteps sounded along the canal path and then stopped.
‘What the frig are you doing here?’ Garnet asked in a voice far more pleasant than his words. That was the way of him: all manners and serenity until you pissed him off, then he’d bite so hard you’d never stop feeling the teeth in your skin.
Macready yawned. ‘Being a sentinel. Keeping a watchful eye over one of my stray flock of Kings. That’s the right word, is it not — flock? Sounds better than herd, or gang, or murder. Like my new swords? Look elegant with the uniform, do they not?’ He smacked the skysilver blade of his knife back and forth against his palm. It barely tickled.
‘I can see you like them,’ Garnet said, getting edgier by the moment. ‘Will you let me pass?’
‘You haven’t been here in years,’ said Macready, meeting the young King’s eyes for all the cove tried to avoid looking directly at him. ‘Tasha’s den. Wouldn’t have thought it was home to you any more.’
‘It’s not,’ Garnet grated. ‘But I received a less than welcome reception at the Haymarket.’
‘Ah, that explains it, so it does,’ Macready said lightly. ‘Livilla took that death of yours rather personally. Shame she’s holding you responsible. Still, you know demmes. A bunch of flowers, flask of ciocolata and I bet she’ll come running back to your manly arms.’ Macready still had not moved his legs. He unfolded his left hand, stretching it, wiggling the low stump where his ring finger had been once upon a time. ‘Mind you, if she doesn’t play ball, you can just blast your way in there, leave her bruised and bloody like the old days. Not like you to back down from a challenge, our Garnet.’
‘I have little patience for chatting with servants,’ Garnet said, teeth gleaming in the darkness. ‘Get the fuck out of my way, Macready.’
This would be a good time to get out of the cove’s face, so it would, but Macready had never known when to give up.
‘Aye, the big battle. Should be fun to watch. Especially as you came back here with half as much animor as you’re used to.’
Garnet betrayed himself with a glance.
‘Thought so,’ Macready said with satisfaction. ‘Used to have Velody’s under your belt, didn’t you? Ashiol’s, too, for a good long while. Now it’s just you. The question is, laddie buck, do you think you’re hard enough?’
The pain blasted into Macready’s side, sending him rolling and crying out as it flashed against his skin, muscles, spine. He ended up with his face in the dirt, barely breathing, lungs full of some unspeakable cack.
‘As you can see,’ said Garnet, stepping over him, ‘I still have juice to spare.’
‘Aye,’ Macready managed, coughing and hacking and really not ready to get up anytime soon. ‘Very impressed, so I am.’
‘This will do nicely.’ Garnet’s voice sounded from further down the tunnel where it opened up into a wide gallery with a sandy floor and a single intact building where once there had been several. ‘Just like old times.’
Macready winced as he pushed himself up a little way. ‘Ah, nostalgia,’ he managed. ‘The greatest thing in the world, so it is.’
Velody wore purple and gold. Delphine had dressed her as if for an all-saints parade, draping her with paste gems and gilded links. The dress was a dropped-waist shift that trailed ribbons and feathers like a gaudy peacock.
‘I’ll get blood on it,’ Velody warned her.
‘I don’t care,’ said Delphine. She held out her knives, their hilts wrapped in rose-coloured leather. ‘Take these.’
Velody smiled. ‘And that would be cheating.’
‘Crane won’t tell.’
Crane was waiting in the kitchen, chin on his hands. He looked up as Velody approached. ‘Ready?’
‘As I’ll ever be,’ she said with a deep sigh. Fighting Ashiol and Garnet together. There was nothing about this that she wanted.
The streets were quiet as Velody walked up the Lucretine with Crane and Delphine behind her. She could feel the nox taking over; not just the darkness and the shadows, but the strange other world that made her invisible to those of the daylight. She took Lord form, and the glow of her skin lit the street as she walked up to the crest of the hill. Lampboys passed her, and not one of them looked twice in her direction. Velody did not exist to them.
Garnet, Ashiol, Garnet, Ashiol. This wasn’t a duel. It was a hunt.
Where are you?
Garnet was in her head. It was such a familiar voice and yet so alien that Velody almost tripped and stumbled.
None of your business, she hurled back.
He laughed. You know you don’t want to hurt me.
Is that what we’re doing here? Seduction rather than battle? This was your idea, Garnet.
Not mine, Lady. Ashiol’s the one who wants to eat both our hearts out. I wonder why that is. Jealousy, perhaps.
Was he after an alliance?
She had considered the danger she would be in if Ashiol and Garnet teamed up against her — and had briefly considered whether Ashiol would listen to her long enough to put Garnet down. It had not occurred to her that Garnet might want to use her against Ashiol, but it was obvious now. He saw her as a minor player in this game and Ashiol as the prize. Either that, or he was working hard to keep her and Ashiol apart for his own protection.
What would Ashiol possibly have to be jealous of? she asked.
Don’t you know?
Images burst into her mind: a jumble of limbs, of heat, of sex, and they weren’t her own memories but Garnet’s. Memories of her own naked body, of Ashiol’s, the taste of their animor mingled with his, and above it all Garnet’s laughter, thick and rich and pleased with himself.
I am going to kick your arse when I find you, Velody thought in his general direction.
No, you won’t. You love us both.
Not right now. Really not.
‘Velody.’
She had been so busy in her head with Garnet that she wasn’t aware of Ashiol until he was almost on top of her. He practically gleamed in the darkness — he wore leather and silks, his hair freshly washed, his skin edible. Or was it Garnet in her head making her think of frigging instead of fighting?
Cats on heat, both of them. Velody had to be the sensible one. She was a mouse. She was cunning and clever, and tidy, and … Possibly tidy was not going to be useful at this particular moment.
We don’t have to fight, she tried to say directly into his mind, but Ashiol was keeping her out, his defences high.
He shook his head and smiled. ‘Stay out, little mouse.’
‘Not so little.’
‘So I hear.’
&n
bsp; ‘Base insults? Does it come to that?’
‘No. I don’t have time for insults. I’ve wasted too much time trying to make you into a Creature King and you were just a demme all along. Ready to tumble on her back at the first sight of a pretty face.’
Anger poured off him. He wouldn’t be Ashiol if he didn’t taste of anger. But he seemed to be genuinely hurt as well. Velody was startled by that. It was almost funny.
‘Are you seriously judging me for who I bed? Is there anyone in the Court who hasn’t had a taste of you?’
Oh, that anger of his — she had forgotten how it felt when his animor flared with it. If Ashiol was anything right now, it was serious.
‘You knew what he was,’ he spat. ‘You knew what he did. You let him in and you brought him back. Did you think we would say thank you for it?’
Velody shook her head slowly, careful to keep a good distance from him, ready to change in an instant if he attacked her. ‘I didn’t know anything about Garnet except what you told me, and I’m not sure I trust you any more. I don’t know who you are, Ashiol. You’re the one that turned this into a fight.’
That’s the demme, Garnet said in her mind. We’ll take him down together. He can’t fight us both at once, not if we team up.
Then what? Velody demanded.
Garnet laughed in her head, filling her up. Then the city is ours.
Yours, you mean. It was her own fury she could taste now. I’m sick of you both thinking that you’re more than me, that what I believe doesn’t count for anything. I was a better Power and Majesty than you ever were, Garnet.
Prove it, little mouse. Let’s see the colour of your claws.
Ashiol blurred in front of her, and Velody leaped towards him, attacking rather than defending. She was angry enough at him that her animor surged ahead of her, hot and lashing out.
He went chimaera, and she did, too, muscles expanding outwards, wings unfurling. She sank her teeth into the side of his neck and her claws into his chest. He raked his claws down her back and they rolled, bestial and fierce, on the cobbled street.
A noxcab rattled past, barely missing them, the black horse hooves coming within inches of Velody’s wings. She hissed and let out a mighty shriek, slamming Ashiol back on the ground, pinning him down.
You’re so hot when you’re murderous, Garnet said.
Shut up! Velody yelled at him, concentrating on her body and Ashiol’s, keeping her weight on him, keeping him down. If she could only come up with a plan, but the chimaera didn’t think; it fought and it bit and it lashed out.
Pain cut through her as he freed his claws and thrust them into her thick hide. They rolled and wrestled and she found herself under him, then on top again, bleeding in too many places. Battle-rage was scarlet and bright in her mind, but she hurt, and it was all she could do to roll back and protect her throat from his snapping jaws.
She became aware of voices behind her: Delphine and Macready and Crane.
‘You can’t let him do this,’ said Delphine in distress.
‘Feck that,’ said Macready. ‘We need her to win fairly. She has to, or all this is for naught.’
Velody could feel others nearby. She was certain that Warlord was watching, and there was a sniff of Livilla, and Poet … Where was Poet? Why had he chosen Garnet out of all of them? It made no sense to her.
Ashiol dug his claws harder into her and she howled, shifting back into Lord form. Ashiol changed, too, his body covering hers. How had he ended up on top?
He stared at her, breathing hard, and for one moment Velody wondered if this was sex rather than a fight to the death. The fact that it was so hard to tell pretty much summed up the Creature Court.
Not to the death, not that, it’s not what I’m supposed to be doing, I am not that Power and Majesty, I never will be!
She could feel Ashiol hard against her stomach, and for a moment, just for a moment, he let her inside his head, inside his thoughts. All she saw was a mess of heat and hurt and memories. Saints. He really believed that she and Garnet had teamed up against him, that they wanted his death.
‘This isn’t right,’ she gasped. ‘This isn’t how we’re supposed to be.’
Then there was pain, deep into her gut, a burning, roiling sensation, and his hand was — a claw, he still had a claw, he had gutted her, and he was crying, why was he crying? What had he done to her, what had she let him do?
Delphine screamed and landed on Ashiol, plunging her skysilver dagger into the side of his neck. He choked on his own blood, sliding sideways, slumping to the cobbles.
Velody’s vision swam. She saw Garnet over her, leaning down, a horrible smile on his face.
‘Sweet,’ he said. ‘A marriage made in hells. You know the story, don’t you? It was an old musette favourite. The angel lay with the devil, and the devil lay with the saint, and they made a marriage all together, bathed in blood. And they went away, never to bother us again, as long as we light their candles and wear their garlands and sing, sing, sing.’
Velody slid into unconsciousness, not able to listen any more.
I know the stories, Garnet said in her head. I know what we are supposed to be. I know the truth.
11
Macready dragged Delphine away from Ashiol’s bloodied body. ‘Crane, get to him first,’ he ordered.
Garnet stood a little away from them all, smiling like a bloody stained-glass saint. ‘No,’ he said calmly. ‘I am the Power and Majesty. I say you will not let them live.’
‘We’re the sentinels of the Kings and that isn’t a fecking order we’ll obey,’ Macready said in a growl. ‘Kelpie, see to Velody. Crane, take Ashiol.’ Delphine was limp in his arms, shaking madly, crying, gasping for breath.
‘The oath, I think,’ Garnet said sweetly.
Warlord stepped out of the shadows. ‘To the victor the spoils. I pledge allegiance to Garnet as Power and Majesty.’
Poet, too. ‘I pledge allegiance to Garnet,’ he said, eyes bright as he stared at Garnet.
Lennoc was there, his face unreadable. ‘I pledge allegiance to Garnet, Power and Majesty of the Creature Court. Long may he reign.’
‘Bastards,’ Macready said in an undertone. Garnet wouldn’t stop fecking smiling and it made Macready’s left hand ache, where his ring finger used to be.
Livilla walked down the street dressed in rich blue robes with white trim, like she was the saint of everything. A trail of children followed her, clinging to her cloudy skirts, giving off the stink of newfound animor.
‘I suppose you want me, too,’ she said, head tilted to one side. ‘Or have you oaths enough, my King?’
‘Oh, I always want you, honey sweet,’ said Garnet, reaching out a hand. She allowed him to kiss it, watching him carefully the whole time. ‘How can I resist you and your little monsters?’ he added.
‘It will be different this time, Majesty,’ Livilla said in a stern voice.
‘Of course,’ he replied, sounding utterly sincere, and they kissed for a long time.
Holding hands, Garnet and Livilla stepped over Ashiol’s and Velody’s bodies and continued together down the hill. The other Lords and Court followed them in a stately procession.
‘Sentinels,’ Garnet called behind him, as if it was an afterthought. ‘If any of you heal those two, you may consider yourselves banished from the Creature Court.’
‘That’s not how things are done,’ Macready yelled after him.
They looked back, all of them, Garnet, the Lords and Court, blank-faced.
‘Imagine how much I care,’ Garnet said.
Velody was making a low noise, not quite a whimper. Her body was shuddering and there was blood, too much blood. Ashiol had stopped moving some time ago.
‘Then I’m not a sentinel any more,’ Delphine said, shucking off her skysilver sword and tossing it to the street with a clang that made Macready wince. She leaned over Velody, thrusting her wrist to her mouth, trying to make her feed. ‘How do I do this?’ she wailed finally.
>
Crane got to her before Macready did. He sliced into Delphine’s wrist with his steel knife and let her drip the blood slowly against Velody’s lips. Delphine buried her face in Crane’s chest as she did it.
I should be doing that, Macready thought. He should be helping Delphine, but he couldn’t move. He’d been nothing but a sentinel for twenty years, it was in his blood and his bones, and he was damned if he would let Garnet take it away from him.
Still holding Delphine, Crane cut his own wrist and put it over Ashiol’s mouth. Their choice had been made. The Kings would be saved, and still Macready had not picked a side.
He didn’t have to pick a side. Crane and Delphine had saved him from that choice. Ashiol and Velody would live.
A little way down the hill, Garnet stood watching them, the Lords and Court arrayed behind him. ‘Take off your sword,’ he ordered Crane.
‘Is he alive?’ Kelpie asked in a whisper.
Like Macready, she was still on her feet, not moving one way or the other. Like Macready, she would rather die than give up being a sentinel, but that wasn’t an option available right now.
Ashiol looked bad. He wasn’t responding to Crane’s attempts to feed him. The cobbles were sodden with his blood.
‘Kelpie, take my sword off,’ Crane said, not moving from where he kneeled.
‘You don’t have to do this,’ she said hopelessly.
‘Take it off,’ the lad snapped.
Not a lad any more, oh no. More of a man than Macready, so he was.
Kelpie slid Crane’s skysilver sword from his back and laid it on the cobbles beside Delphine’s. She was crying, tears sliding down her face, her breath coming in short bursts.
Ashiol gave a choking gasp, and began to suck on Crane’s wrist. Alive. Holy feck, alive. Powerless, but saved.
Kelpie squeezed her eyes shut and started walking down the hill towards Garnet. Away from them. Oh, lass. Macready watched her go, understanding her choice, still not sure if he was going to follow or not.
Velody was feeding properly now, suckling at Delphine’s wrist. Crane let his skysilver knife join the sword on the cobbles and returned his attention to Ashiol, not even looking at Macready and Kelpie. As if they had no decision to make, as if it was obvious what they would do. Crane was taking charge, saints help him. He drew Delphine’s skysilver knife out of the side of Ashiol’s neck and put it with the others. No blood ran free. For now, Ashiol was as mortal as the rest of them and the skysilver could not touch him.
Reign of Beasts Page 8
