Reign of Beasts (Creature Court) - By Tansy Rayner Roberts Page 0,63

challenged.

Eventually, Garnet walked away.

‘He’s going to kill her,’ said Bree later, when they were alone in their room. ‘He’s going to kill all of us, and it’ll be your fault.’

‘I can’t help what I am,’ said Topaz.

‘Livilla Lord Wolf was loyal before you came along,’ the other demme said in a sulky voice. ‘To all the Power and Majesties, even Velody, and she hated her way more than Garnet.’

‘I think she wants something different now.’

‘You make no sense,’ Bree huffed. ‘This is how it’s supposed to be. Courtesi obey Lords, and Lords obey Kings, and the Power and Majesty rules them all, and we fight the sky. There’s an order to it.’

Order. That was what Garnet had said.

‘It never made any sense to me,’ said Topaz. ‘Maybe it’s time it all came crumbling down. Make something new.’

‘It will be over Livilla’s dead body,’ Bree warned. ‘She can’t fight him. She never could. My old Lord, Priest, always said she was too soft for Garnet and one day it would get her killed.’

Topaz breathed deeply, trying to give herself over to sleep. ‘Reckon she’s stronger than you think she is.’

They had to hope so.

Later, when Bree was sleeping, Topaz awoke with the scent of Livilla’s perfume and cigarette smoke wrapped around her like a thick curtain. Her mistress sat at the foot of her bed, legs crossed like a child.

‘Topaz,’ she said quietly, her eyes gleaming in the darkness, ‘our Power and Majesty is not one to let these insults of ours stand. He will move against us soon.’

‘My Lady,’ Topaz said. ‘Do you want us to leave this place? The lambs? Or all of us together?’

‘Goodness, no!’ Livilla seemed offended by the idea. ‘These are my rooms. This is my territory. But we can’t carry on like this. We need to find out exactly what it is the bastard has planned for Saturnalia. For leverage, you understand.’

Topaz understood that Livilla didn’t like anyone knowing something that she did not. ‘What do you want of me?’

Livilla smiled fiendishly. ‘Poet is his weakness, sly thing that he is. And you are Poet’s weakness. Find out what he knows.’

Topaz knew better than to point out how badly it had gone last time Livilla tried to use her as an instrument for her own political manoeuvres. She was uncomfortable with the thought that Livilla might not count that one as a failure. Still, she had promised to serve.

‘As you wish, my Lord,’ she muttered.

The daylight was harsh on Topaz’s eyes after so long underground. It was strange to breathe the ordinary air, to walk the streets. She could run and hide, maybe sneak onto a train out of this place, or just walk and walk until her shoes gave out. Who needed shoes? She could be out of Aufleur by the next noxfall.

But the rest of the lambs were still with Livilla, and Topaz didn’t trust her to do right by them. She wasn’t all that sure Livilla knew any difference between right and wrong, let alone anything else.

The Vittorina Royale it was.

It was a shock to her, the sight of the ruined theatre. She had half-forgotten what had happened that nox, and how bad was that? Bart had skipped her mind entirely; Bart and the cruel wedge of golden stone that had pounded the breath out of him.

Topaz curled up on the pavement outside the ruin, allowing herself to feel utterly miserable. They had been happy here. Their first chance of a real life. She stayed there for some time, until she felt a familiar presence approach.

‘Hello, lamb.’

The Orphan Princel had found her, not the other way around. He stood there all fine in one of his pretty suits, with a scruffy boy and a sulky young man at his heels.

‘What did you want us for?’ Topaz blurted, staring at her hands. ‘Why did you bring us here?’

Why had Bart been here, to be crushed by pieces of a city that didn’t exist?

The Princel rubbed his nose, pushing up his spectacles. ‘Let me buy you a cake,’ he suggested.

Only the Orphan Princel could take such a ragged pair of imps into a fancy tearoom and be greeted by smiles and approving looks rather than, you know, being chased out with a broom.

It was called the Gardenia, and was all white walls, cane furniture and tiny teacups. Topaz slouched in her high-backed chair, feeling like a rat in the custard bowl. Her only consolation was that the Princel’s boy looked as uncomfortable as she