The Shattered City (16 page)

‘Nor you your courtesi,' said Lennoc.

She hissed at him between her teeth, suddenly furious. ‘Watch your mouth, courteso.'

‘Where has Priest gone?' Velody asked, getting to her feet, only a little light-headed. ‘Where has he taken Poet?'

She did not ask why. The sky that had taken over Priest needed no motive but to distract and damage the Creature Court. To make them weak. She was determined that whatever happened, they would be stronger than before.

Lennoc looked at the ground. ‘Lord Poet suggested that if Lord Priest really wanted to rip the heart out of the Creature Court, it might be a fine idea to kill the Seer.'

D
elphine had decided that the world was crazy. The Duchessa was crazy — why else would she destroy everything that was good and right about the city by closing the festivals? Velody was crazy, and so was her Creature Court. Rhian was seven kinds of crazy, and not even for the usual reasons.

When a bedraggled bald fortune-teller you hardly knew turned up raving on your doorstep, it was just not normal to drag her in, sit her down and feed her soup. ‘It's all right,' Rhian assured the demme, who was wild-eyed and shaking. ‘Come on in. We were just sitting down to supper.' Delphine folded her arms and watched as Rhian made Heliora comfortable.

‘Why did you come here?' Delphine asked bluntly. The entire time in that dratted tent, she had got the impression that the demme was laughing at her, like she and Macready had private jokes that Delphine wasn't included in.

‘Nowhere else to go,' said Heliora, warming her hands on the soup bowl. ‘I can't — it doesn't —'

‘Don't worry,' Rhian soothed. ‘You're safe here.'

‘The broken mirror won't mend itself,' Heliora said, urgently, as if it was the most important message in the world. ‘You must tell the Kings.' She pulled her palms away from the bowl — they were reddened from the heat of it, and she didn't seem to know why. ‘Ashiol. He has to know.' She gripped the edge of the table to stop herself swaying.

‘He doesn't live here,' Delphine said bitchily. ‘Try the Palazzo. What do you think we have, a magical Ducomte-summoning charm?'

The demme was shivering now. Possibly because she had left her hair at home. ‘The broken mirror will not be mended,' she said again, and started crumbling a piece of bread, arranging the crumbs in neat lines.

‘We should send for Ashiol?' Rhian suggested.

‘They're a little busy saving the world,' Delphine said airily. ‘Besides, how would we send for him?'

There was a soft thud as the smelly old tomcat that had been hanging around the house since the Creature Court breezed into their life leaped on to the table, and stretched. Delphine glared at it. ‘We remember that I'm not a sentinel, yes? Your little tricks are no use with me.'

This was all Macready's fault. He had happily gone trip-trapping off with the others like the good dog he was, and left her here to deal with this. What were they supposed to do if the so-called Seer snapped and went for a potato cleaver? Delphine wasn't exactly a trained sentinel …

Stupid thought. She wasn't a sentinel at all. She didn't want to be. She wanted to braid flowers. Being a part
of the festivals, of the complex rituals of the city, had always been important to Delphine. She had long since tossed away any ridiculous notions of being a dressmaker. Everyone needed garlands. Her work mattered to more people than Velody's frocks.

Delphine knew every festival, every day by rote. In a few days' time, the Ludi Sacris were supposed to reach their crescendo with the public circus. Boatloads of new and exotic animals were imported, and only the best performers were allowed to strut the public grass.

Poppies. The circus meant poppies, orange and gold and scarlet, strung on glossy white ribbons. Delphine should be working on them now. Rhian should be sending her runners to the docks to ensure the best blooms. But according to the statement from the Palazzo, reprinted in the city broadsheets and passed even faster by word of mouth, even hemming a ribbon for the sacred circus was against the Duchessa's word of law. Delphine wanted to scream and tear at something. Rhian was ridiculously calm, as ever. Of course she wouldn't fuss about something like this. But how could the rest of them not care?

The obvious reason. They would blithely take a public garland or buy one of their own or maybe even not bother, and the world would keep turning for them whether they did or not. Velody's new friends were so oblivious to the ways of daylight. How could they not understand that this was important too?

The city felt dead. Every corner should be draped with banners and sigils announcing which performers would be performing in the games each day. Children should be playing with toy javelins and hurling discs, or begging their parents for the bright striped circus
candy that was only sold on barrows during the Sacred Games.

There should be songs and smiles and holiday baskets. What was the point of protecting a city if it was already broken?

Rhian was trying to wrap a blanket around Heliora's thin shoulders, but the Seer grabbed out at her wrist, hanging on too tightly. ‘Roses,' she said unexpectedly. ‘Why do I always see roses when I look at you?'

‘I work with flowers,' said Rhian. ‘At least, I did,' she conceded in response to the rude noise Delphine made. ‘And I will again, once the Duchessa's senses return,' she added, firmly detaching Heliora's hand from her wrist without even her usual shudder at human contact.

‘Assuming they don't all dry up while we're neglecting them,' Delphine huffed. She had hemmed a dozen ribbons today, to prove that she could, the stupidest outlaw act she had ever performed. Now she had hidden her silks and worked on a lopsided knitting project, just to be doing something with her hands.

‘This is how it happened before, at Tierce,' said the Seer. ‘I knew I wasn't going to make it past Saturnalia, but it never occurred to me until now that maybe it wasn't just me. Maybe all of Aufleur will go. That makes sense.' She didn't sound particularly upset.

‘How considerate of us to keep you company,' Delphine said bitterly. ‘What do you mean, this is how it happened at Tierce? What do you know about Tierce?'

It was still just a name to her. Velody had tried to explain how her memories were coming back, the more time she spent among the Court, but Delphine's own were hidden, and she was quite content for them to stay
that way. There was nothing wrong with having a blank spot where your childhood was supposed to be. Not when it was what you were used to — how things had always been. Rhian hungered for any stories of Tierce that Velody could share. Delphine did not. When Macready had tried to bribe her with her lost memories she had felt nothing but rage that he thought her price was so damned cheap. But the idea of this little wench knowing more about their city than she did herself was unbearable.

‘I saw it all,' said Heliora, hugging herself. ‘I knew Tierce would fall before it did. Usually it's the futures that come upon me. But when it happened, I saw the
now
in a way I never had before. I saw every blow of the final battle. They turned against each other, and the city didn't work any more, didn't heal, couldn't hold it together. One by one, the Shadow Court was swallowed by the sky, and when the last of them was gone, the sky ate the city whole.'

‘The Shadow Court?' said Rhian. ‘They weren't creatures then, the Court of Tierce?'

‘Oh, they were creatures,' said Heliora with an unpleasant smile. ‘Greater, darker, more fierce creatures than anything you've seen here in Aufleur.'

‘So,' said Delphine, her voice strangely loud in the kitchen. ‘What you're saying here, basically, is that we're doomed.'

‘Oh, yes,' said Heliora with a firm nod. ‘That was never in question.' This was the last time Delphine would allow Rhian to feed soup to these wretched warriors and ragamuffins. Seriously, it was time they started making use of the sturdy bolts on the kitchen door.

‘I have to go,' Heliora said, on her feet all of a sudden.

‘Don't,' Rhian said in alarm. ‘Wait for Ashiol …'

‘I can't wait, I have to — oh, I can hear him laughing!' And the crazy Seer was making for the door.

‘Let her go!' Delphine said impatiently to Rhian. ‘She doesn't belong here. We're not part of this!'

Rhian put her hand out to grasp Heliora's arm, but the Seer shook her off and ran outside. Delphine was shocked to see something — anger, fear, something quite feral — shining out of Rhian's eyes. ‘We have always been part of this,' Rhian said fiercely. Then she swept out of the kitchen and up the staircase, half-running to get away from Delphine.

Delphine heard the back gate creak and went to the threshold, expecting to see the Seer again, but it was Macready, looking all rumpled and bloodstained.

‘What's wrong?' she asked with a catch in her throat, wondering whose blood it was.

‘Eh, nothing like that, lass,' he said. ‘We've had word that Priest is hunting Heliora. He shouldn't come here, but I wanted to warn you two to keep your heads down and your door barred … what is it?'

Obviously her dismay was all over her face. ‘She was just here,' Delphine confessed.

‘Oh, lass,' Macready said in a sigh and made for the gate, then out into the alley at a fair lick.

Delphine ran after him. ‘I told you I wouldn't make a good sentinel.'

‘Aye, well I believe you now,' he said, hurrying to the corner and looking in all directions. ‘No sign of her. What frame of mind was she in?'

‘Raving.'

‘Wonderful,' he said heavily. ‘You may as well get back to your ribbons.'

‘What's that supposed to mean?' she snapped. ‘Our whole city is falling apart — in a real way, not a “building gets broken, building fixes itself” kind of way. Your precious Ducomte doesn't give a damn about anything that's real. None of you do. My garlands pay for the food that you all help yourselves to when you breeze in and out of our lives. It's not all about mad Seers and exploding skies, you know!'

‘Aye, well you might have a point if it were not for the Pigeon Lord who is trying to kill off our people one by one,' Macready snapped. ‘I don't think we've exactly got our priorities in the wrong order, worrying about that. In any case, you're part of our world now.'

‘Because I picked up a sword?' Delphine scoffed. ‘It was a fluke. I am not a sentinel. I don't even know what that means.'

He held his hand out to her, looking all battle-worn and adorable. No, not adorable. Scruffy. ‘Come with me. There's a fight to be won this nox, and Velody needs all the sentinels she can get.'

Delphine just stared at him, furious enough to explode and take the sky with her. Why was it so hard to walk away from him? He was smiling his stupid smile, and his hair was all curled up at the ends, and she didn't care. Not at all.

She wasn't going to take his hand. Delphine folded her arms. ‘I'd rather die.'

A scream cut through the streets around them. ‘Heliora!' said Macready, and ran towards the sound.

Only later, Delphine realised that she had not hesitated to go after him.

 

Macready found Heliora at the mouth of an alley that led out on to Via Camellie. She was shaking wildly, foam flecking her lips, and as he took hold of her he could feel her bones jutting through her skin. When had she last eaten a meal? She was all but vanishing under his hands.

‘Hel,' he said urgently. ‘Come back to us, my lovely.'

‘Everything's breaking,' she forced out through a throat that barely seemed functional. ‘It won't mend.'

‘We have to get you inside, sweetling. Away from Priest. The sky wants your blood.'

She laughed horribly, clinging to him. ‘Not sure there's enough left to tempt it.'

Macready scooped her up in his arms and carried her back towards the house. Delphine was there at his side, watching him, though making no move to help. She stepped forward to open the gate for him, which was something. ‘Can't help yourself, can you?' she said. ‘You just love rescuing people.'

Macready carried Heliora into the kitchen and sat her down. She seemed able to support herself, though she stared uselessly into the distance, not reacting to him. ‘Nothing wrong with that, is there?'

‘That depends on how you look at it.' It was obvious that she very much did think there was something wrong with it.

Macready left Heliora in the chair and drew Delphine into the workroom, speaking in a low voice. ‘How do you feel when you finish one of your garlanding commissions?'

She gave him a hard look, her narrow sapphire eyes cutting into him. ‘Tired.'

‘Is that all?'

‘Satisfied,' she said grudgingly. ‘I love being busy, I hate having nothing to do with my hands, and it is
killing
me that our bitch of a Duchessa has screwed with my business.'

Macready nodded. ‘Imagine that same satisfaction, only the work you have done was for the good of the whole city. You've been a part of something that saves lives and sanity and the very bricks holding us up. Something so important that it makes you glow to have been part of it.'

‘And then they pat you on the head, the Kings, and say good dog. Only they don't,' Delphine scoffed. ‘I've seen — they hardly ever notice you except when they need something. You all walk around with this air of vitality, like your work is so much more essential than that of the rest of us.'

Macready couldn't believe her. ‘It is more essential.'

‘I don't think it is.'

‘Delphine, you braid silk and
flowers
for a living.'

She stared razors at him. ‘You're a frigging maidservant, Macready, and that's worse. You're not going to turn me into a servant too!'

‘You had the right of it all along,' he said angrily. ‘You're not one of us, not if you think that way.' Delphine made an irritated gesture at him, as if he was speaking the obvious aloud. Macready went back to the kitchen and found it empty. ‘Shit!' The Seer had not been as helpless as she seemed. So much for keeping her safe while Priest was forging his bloody path across the city.

‘Some sentinel,' Delphine observed.