in time,’ Kelpie said in frustration. ‘Not with all those saints standing between him and us.’
‘Yes,’ said Velody patiently. ‘If only one of us had the power to become something small enough to escape their notice.’
Kelpie glared. ‘I liked you better when you weren’t sarcastic all the time.’
‘No, you didn’t.’ Velody reached out and patted the arm of the secretary, who looked distressed and ill. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Troyes,’ he managed.
‘I think it wouldn’t hurt to fetch a few more friends for this, don’t you think, Troyes? Just in case stealth fails us. Backup is important.’
Ashiol was lost in the darkness now. There had been more drugs, he was fairly sure, something green and sticky that left a coating on his mouth. Dust clung to it, so he could taste Priest all the way down his throat.
Not Priest. The sky. The sky was not Priest. Priest was dead.
Ashiol was so far gone that his vision was almost clear again. He saw the Duc-Elected cross the floor, coughing, and saw the dust that emerged from his throat onto a handkerchief. He saw Velody under him, crying out, her skin so hot he couldn’t bear to touch her. He saw Livilla, head thrown back in a laugh, only it wasn’t Livilla at all, it was Tasha …
He saw Celeste, blood all over her white dress and wings, shrieking angry owl hoots at Garnet. A child. Not one of them had a child they hadn’t stolen from someone else or rescued from the streets. If Celeste had managed it, it had to mean something. Had to be for a reason.
The next drug they gave him made his skin so hot that he screamed. There were clockwork saints everywhere, holding him down, standing guard at the side of the Duc-Elected and his sons.
Dust. There was dust everywhere.
‘Forgive me for what I have done,’ said Priest, sounding older and sadder than in the entire time Ashiol had known him. ‘I am not myself.’
Ashiol opened his eyes, squinting through damp eyelashes, and a mouse ran over his pillow.
He smiled.
Velody waited, her tiny heartbeat chiming the seconds, until the old man in the brocade suit and his clockwork saints had left the room. Then she called in the rest of her, one mouse at a time, and formed her own body. Naked, she leaned over the sweating, shaking figure of Ashiol.
‘Wake up,’ she crooned. ‘Come on.’
He smelled of potions and salt, and he opened his eyes easily enough, but only to grin stupidly at her, his face feverish.
It wasn’t endearing.
‘Nearly nox,’ she said. ‘Snap out of it. We couldn’t get Kelpie in; she’s waiting at the trees. You can have her blood, as much of it as you like, but not yet. I need you on your feet.’
‘I love you,’ he said dreamily, to the ceiling and not in any way to Velody. ‘You can’t make me stop. You’re mine now.’
Velody sighed. ‘Fine,’ she said impatiently, and shaped herself into chimaera. The power buzzed through her muscles and broadened her back, and she was able to scoop him up from his bed as if he were a doll. He was heavy, but she was strong.
Somewhere, a clock was chiming. Everywhere, clocks were chiming, one after the other. The Palazzo shuddered with the sound of clocks heralding the hour.
Velody went to the balcony doors and pulled back the curtain. Three clockwork saints stood nearby, unmoving. She could hear every whirr and scrape of their inner workings.
‘You are too late, my dear,’ said a voice.
Velody turned, and saw an older gentleman in a bright red velvet suit — the Duc-Elected — standing in the doorway.
‘We do not need protection from the likes of you,’ he said politely. ‘As you can see, we have everything under control.’
Velody shifted into Lord form, her naked skin glowing white in the dim room, Ashiol’s body still cradled in her powerful arms. ‘Your saints betrayed the Court.’
‘They did as they were expected to do.’
‘They’re not defending the city,’ she said angrily. ‘They’re working for those … things that lie beyond the sky. Our enemy.’
‘Your enemy, perhaps,’ said the Duc-Elected. He coughed discreetly into his handkerchief. ‘But what on earth made you think that we are supposed to defend the city from them?’
Velody stared at him. ‘You’re behind this? You sold out your own city to them. Your own people!’
‘We will be safe beyond the sky. It is an honour that they want us there.’
‘Believe me, I’ve been there,’ she grated. ‘It’s nothing special.’
There was an