Reign of Beasts (Creature Court) - By Tansy Rayner Roberts Page 0,23

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?’

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