Bone Palace, The - Amanda Downum Page 0,103
her and Ciaran, and shook her head at the silliness of the question.
“No,” Azarné said slowly. “Thank you.” She drifted away from the door, spiraling through the sitting room like a new cat to inspect books and ornaments and furniture. Isyllt sat, cradling her teacup to warm her hands and waiting for the vampire to speak.
“What has Spider told you of his plans?” asked Azarné after another circuit of the room. She paused behind a chair, taloned fingers dimpling the cushioned back.
Isyllt sipped her tea, rolling smoke and tannin over her tongue. “He wants to renew the truce. He wants the freedom of the city. He hasn’t told me how he means to accomplish that.”
“That’s true, but not the half of it. He wants control of the city. He wants to set his demon witch on the throne and rule through her.”
Her fingers tightened on her cup. “What do you know about this witch?”
“I remember her from the first time she came below. Years and years ago. Spider courted her then, as well, the way he courts you now.”
Isyllt snorted. “Tenebris mentioned another sorceress. Spider said she died.”
“Oh, she did.” She lifted one delicate hand, grey claws gleaming in the light. “That doesn’t always keep you from coming back.”
Isyllt’s nape prickled. A living sorceress was bad enough—if it was a demon they hunted, undead, the matter was even more serious. The dead hungered, be they ghosts or vampires or necrophants. Phaedra must have a great deal of self-control, or careful handlers. Or there were a great many corpses yet to be found. Isyllt rose and added warmer tea to her cup, following it with a shot of whiskey. She leaned against the counter to drink it, pressing her corset stays into her ribs.
“What are they doing now?”
“I don’t know. I’ve followed them through the tunnels, and seen them on the hunt together, but I don’t want to get too close. Spider I don’t fear, but I’d rather not face the two of them together. The sorceress has the freedom of daylight, and powerful charms besides. I haven’t found their lair.
“That’s not all,” Azarné continued, as Isyllt reached for the whiskey again. She pulled her hand away and forced it back to her side.
“Of course it isn’t. What else?”
“Spider’s ideas are attracting attention in the catacombs. The idea of roaming free above”—her lips twisted—“of hunting free—appeals to some of us.”
“To you?” Across the room, Isyllt saw Ciaran flinch.
The vampire bared her teeth. “I am a predator. We can survive on sips and drops, on willing donors, but it will never be the same. We all want the kill.” She dropped her head. “But Spider wants more than that. He wants to rule the city.”
“Do you want that too?”
Azarné was silent for a long time. So still she could have been a statue. When she moved again it was without her unnerving demon grace. She sank onto the edge of the chair and stared into nothing. Embers popped and fell in the hearth.
“I came to Erisín… years ago, with a delegation from Iskar, part of the Sultan’s retinue. I never went home again. Many memories of my life have faded, but I remember the court, the petty cruelties of the seraglio. We hurt each other to pass the time, to pretend we had any power but what the sultan granted us. The nobles did the same, and so much worse. Mortals with authority—and those without—do terrible things every day. So imagine what a true monster would do if given power over others. We already hunt and kill for need and for pleasure, and never mind your truce. If we could do so with impunity it would be a hundred times worse.”
Her eyes flashed as she moved, the only warning Isyllt had. In the next heartbeat the vampire stood before her, so close she could feel the chill seeping from Azarné’s flesh. The teacup shattered on the floor, spraying both their skirts with liquid.
“You should stop him,” the vrykola whispered, leaning in on her tiptoes. “It will be ugly if you don’t.”
Nerves scalded her skin. Every instinct warned her to recoil; instead she stepped forward. Porcelain shards crunched and bit beneath her slippers as she glared down at the vampire. “You stop him then, if you know how ugly it will be. It won’t be only mortals bleeding for this, I promise you that. Your elders let this happen—they can bloody well do something about it. I can’t begrudge Spider his revolution, if