The Phenomenals: A Game of Ghouls Read Online Free PDF

fire to heat some water. The door scraped open and Vincent, Citrine and Jonah came hurrying in.
    ‘Sorry we’re late . . .’ began Citrine, and then she put her hand to her mouth in shock. ‘What in Aether happened to you?’
    Folly did indeed cut a rather bedraggled figure. ‘I was attacked,’ she said matter-of-factly, ‘but the other one came off worse, believe me. I just need a wash.’
    ‘Domne, so you felt it here too,’ said Jonah, stepping into the chamber, carefully avoiding the crack in the floor.
    ‘You clean yourself up,’ said Citrine, taking the slumgullion pot from the Cold Cabinet. ‘I’ll sort some food. Did you know the Kronometer’s stopped?’
    Folly looked at her sharply. ‘Stopped?’
    ‘Yes, the quake . . .’ started Citrine, but Folly talked over her:
    ‘
Should ere this pendulum of blackened brass,
    No longer swing its graceful pass,
    Beware the risen Degringolade
    For blood will smear their sharpened blade!
’
    ‘Oh goodness, the prophecy! I had forgotten all about that,’ said Citrine.
    ‘Prophecy?’ Vincent looked astonished at Folly’s spontaneous performance.
    ‘It’s associated with the Kronometer,’ said Folly.
    ‘Yes,’ said Citrine. ‘Everyone knows it here, but I haven’t heard mention of it for years.’
    Vincent laughed. ‘A Degringolade will rise from the dead?’ He pointed to Lady Degringolade’s fallen casket and the bones within. ‘I don’t think there’s much
chance of that.’
    Folly went to the trunk in the corner and pulled out some clean clothes. Jonah righted the coffin, replaced the lid as well as he could, like a badly fitting jigsaw, and shoved it up against the
wall. He contemplated lifting it back into the niche. He knew he could, but he thought perhaps the cavity would make a good sleeping place for him. He couldn’t get used to the floor and,
though nothing would match the gentle swing of a hammock on a ship, the niche would surely be preferable.
    Vincent was still in a state of exhilaration after his latest narrow escape. Luck was definitely on his side tonight. Not only had he escaped Leucer’s bullet – admittedly the
earthquake had played a part in that – but with remarkable serendipity he had entered Mercator Square just as Citrine and Jonah were taking off in the Trikuklos. What a shock he had given
them when he had jumped out from behind a stall and asked for a ride. He was starting to think that being in a city as riven with superstition as Degringolade might not be such a bad thing.
Certainly he had done well thieving. There was something about the atmosphere of Degringolade too, not just the wailing Lurids and the oily stink from the Tar Pit, that made him feel he could take
chances he wouldn’t normally. Jonah had called him foolish; he preferred to think of himself as daring and courageous.
    He noticed, with a small sound of dismay, that the wall mirror was shattered. ‘What happened here? Did you look in the mirror, Folly?’ He enjoyed teasing the serious girl.
    Folly, combing goo from her hair, was in no mood for levity. She gave him a withering look. ‘Very funny. We’re not all so concerned with our looks.’
    Citrine shot an anxious look at Jonah, but he was busy investigating the damage and hadn’t heard. She tried to catch Vincent’s eye, but he was too wrapped up in laughing at his own
joke.
    It was no secret that he liked to look at himself, and Folly had scolded him more than once about his habit of leaving the mirror exposed. ‘You know it’s bad luck to leave mirrors
uncovered at night,’ she had said. ‘You’re just inviting Superents to come through.’
    Vincent scoffed. Although he had become more accepting of the Degringoladians’ superstitious way of life, and now agreed that Superents really did exist, he found this particular taboo
tedious. Citrine, sensing Folly’s irritation, tried to defuse the growing tension. ‘So what exactly attacked you? A Lurid?
    Folly shook her head.