us, Markes,’ said Brand.
Markes lifted his guitar and began the melody that had stirred so many people in Vank. For Retra it brought back the memory of how she had been after taking the Rapture pod – the abandon with which she’d danced, the desire, and then the clamouring demons. Even now the memory filled her with both chagrin and fear.
As Markes finished playing, a Riper with a high forehead and long, curling hair clapped her hands, sending the mass of bracelets on her bare arms jingling. ‘Brilliant, Brand! Ruzalia has high regard for artists. Remember the singer?’
The Ripers all laughed, except Brand, who gave a sly smile. ‘Thank you, Varonessa. Don’t you think a boy with such exceptional talent should be honoured by admittance to the Circle?’
‘Lenoir?’ asked Varonessa. ‘Don’t you agree that it would make sense?’
Lenoir shifted his weight in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. His face, though perfectly bland, emanated displeasure. ‘It’s not usual to bring a new one into the Circle.’
Brand went to stand alongside Markes. ‘It is not usual to find such talent, Lenoir.’
‘Do you wish to be admitted to the Circle, Markes?’
Markes lifted his head and looked into the eyes of each individual around the table, returning to Lenoir last. Retra thought his eyes seemed glassy and distant. What had he taken before coming here? What had Modai given him?
‘It would be my privilege, Guardian,’ Markes replied.
Lenoir shrugged. ‘Very well.’
‘The oath, please, Brand,’ said Varonessa.
The scarred Riper slid her tongue across the top of her lip and gave a throaty laugh. ‘Repeat these words … I pledge to uphold the Charter of Ixion and to follow its creed to my last worldly breath.’
‘I pledge –’
Dread filled Retra as Markes began to speak and she saw a demon crawl out of the cold stone floor and up Markes’s body using its wet teeth as another set of hands. It climbed surely towards his neck.
No! Retra leapt from her pew and ran towards the table.
A Riper caught her before she could reach Markes, strong fingers biting the flesh of her upper arm.
She struggled to get free. ‘Markes, don’t!’
The demon paused and swivelled its hideous head, its many wet eyes blinking at her.
Retra choked off a scream. It couldn’t be real and yet it looked so. What was happening to her? She hadn’t eaten a pod like the time before.
Lenoir – all of them – turned to stare as she hung suspended in the Riper’s grip.
‘What is it, baby bat? Why do you seek to interrupt Circle?’ Lenoir’s question sounded mild, but it flooded the darkest corners of her mind like torchlight. Retra found she couldn’t answer, robbed of words by embarrassment and fear. His look seared her, and in it she saw recognition. He knew her.
She dragged her eyes from Lenoir to Markes, imploring him to refuse.
He returned her look with one of surprise and confusion.
Lenoir saw their exchange and frowned. ‘Aaaah … a crush on another so soon? You have excellent taste, pretty baby, but no sense of decorum, or timing. Now I will ask you again, why do you seek to prevent this boy from his service to Ixion?’
Retra grappled for words. ‘I-I see danger for him – for all of you.’
‘You see danger?’ Lenoir gave her his complete attention now, his whole body tense with it, leaning towards her. She felt paralysed – trapped – by the weight of his presence and the glittering power in his eyes. His perfect lips fell apart, softening his face into something exquisite.
Retra’s skin hurt with the comprehension of it, as if she had been burned or stung or cut. And she knew immediately that she had made a mistake, speaking of her vision. ‘I mean … we are new here and I’m frightened for him.’
Lenoir’s eyebrows arched in surprise. ‘Truly?’
Retra summoned all the truth she felt in her answer. All the terror she harboured. ‘Yes.’
He leaned back in his chair and for a moment Retra thought he seemed unbearably sad. ‘But Ixion is a place of pleasure, not fear.’
‘That is not how I’ve found it.’ Retra straightened her body and looked to Brand.
The scarred Riper moved to Retra’s side with startling speed. ‘May I take her, Lenoir?’
‘Take, Brand?’ Another mild question.
‘That is … I mean … return her to a more suitable place.’
Lenoir gave the Riper a piercing look. ‘So obliging, Brand. I hope your intentions are honourable? Unlike your previous encounter with her.’
‘She seems more forthright than most. I would talk