Reign of Beasts Read Online Free PDF Page A

burst into song in front of the priests and her other retinue, but she was still going through the motions of some sort of performance.
    The Proctor arrived, a blustering, bearded man surrounded by lictors.
    â€˜High and brightness!’ he greeted her, breathing hard. ‘Grateful as I am for your support, I require further assistance. The people are talking of ousting me from office. Some measure of funding to restore and improve the safety of public buildings would go a long way to —’
    Isangell turned away from him. ‘Did you hear that?’
    She hurried into the wings, ignoring his protests, stepping over broken pieces of scenery and a heap of scattered animal masks.
    â€˜Is someone still here?’ she called.
    A small noise cut through the silence, like a child’s whimper.
    â€˜Hold on, I’m coming for you!’ Isangell pushed further in, hearing a couple of lictors come after her, protesting.
    She pulled back an expanse of canvas that covered a row of wooden nooks and looked inside. A grown woman sat hunched there, knees drawn up to her chin, eyes wide and frightened like a child’s.
    â€˜I know you,’ Isangell said as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. ‘You’re … you were looking after my cousin. You’re one of them.’
    She did not dare say the words ‘Creature Court’ aloud with so many senior priests within earshot.
    The demoiselle stared blankly out of her hiding place, not seeming to recognise her at all.
    â€˜Rhian,’ Isangell said, hoping she remembered the right name. ‘Demoiselle Rhian. Are you … can I help you?’
    She gasped as the other woman’s hand lashed out, squeezing her wrist painfully tight. ‘You,’ said Rhian, eyes wide and bloodshot, lips flecked with saliva. ‘You have to tell them. The sky is coming. We will be the last city to fall, but we will fall.’
    â€˜Let me get you a dottore,’ Isangell pleaded, trying to pull her wrist free.
    â€˜Not long now,’ Rhian said, her whole body shuddering. ‘Everything ends at Saturnalia.’
    Â 
    Velody burrowed out of her usual nest of blankets. The air was cool as she placed her bare feet on the floor. She still wore the ragged underskirts from the ridiculous museion dress she’d had on when she crossed over from that other place, the empty Tierce that hung in the sky. The dress itself lay over the corner of her bed, already fading. It wasn’t bright emerald green any more, but a muted grey colour. The fabric crumbled like dried leaves. Velody took a deep breath, remembering the pain as Ashiol dragged her through the ceiling of that theatre, the screams of the wounded beneath them.
    Velody went to her wardrobe, reaching in for where her work dresses always hung. She felt nothing but air. The wardrobe was empty. Further investigation revealed her clothes packed neatly in boxes at the bottom.
    They didn’t think I was coming back. Well, how could they?
    Everyone had thought her dead. She wasn’t entirely sure they were wrong. She should be glad her clothes hadn’t made it to a market stall already.
    Months passed here while I was in a city that no longer exists, lungs not breathing, heart not beating, with a man everyone knew to be dead. Garnet. Oh, saints. The cruellest Power and Majesty in the history of the Creature Court, and she had brought him back.
    Velody dressed with shaking fingers on the buttons, and finally got up the courage to leave her room. Her step on the stairs was quiet and she saw Macready and Delphine before they saw her. They were bundled together into a chair in the workroom, his hands in her hair, her legs across his, as they talked together in low voices. A couple, then. What else had she missed while she was away?
    Velody slipped into the kitchen without disturbing them, expecting to see Rhian at the stove, making porridge or tea or something comforting. The kitchen was