what?"
"I said your name! I know I did. I am so terribly sorry." Her eyes were huge.
"No, it's okay."
"But you said —you said I shouldn't tell her mine, and surely…"
"No." I could feel my face going red, and that made me feel even stupider. "I mean, that ain't my name."
"What?"
" 'Dennis' ain't my name. It's a whatchamacallit."
"An alias?" she said doubtfully.
"Maybe, if that means a name you use when you don't want nobody to know yours. I got a septad or so
of 'em."
"Really." She thought it over, the color coming back into her face. "Then what should I call you?"
"Oh, Kethe, I don't know." I was tired of it. I'd been tired of it for indictions, since I'd left Keeper and didn't have her to keep me safe. I was tired and lonely, not to mention wet and cold. I said, "My name's Mildmay. That's for real."
She was from Wraith. She didn't know the baggage that name had. "Mildmay," she said. "That's nice. You can call me Ginevra. If you like."
"It's a real pretty name."
Her lips twitched. "My aunt found it in a romance and talked my mother into it. But thank you."
"Here," I said and got off the daybed. "You must be tired."
Her face flooded with color. It was like watching a sunrise.
"What?" I said. I couldn't help checking, but I'd put my trousers on, and they were buttoned. "What is it?"
"I'm sorry. This sounds so horrible, and I'm sure you wouldn't, but…" She took a deep breath, and I did my level best not to stare at her chest. "You won't try anything, will you?"
"If I do, kick me in the balls."
"I'm serious."
"So'm I. I don't like rape, and I ain't in the mood besides." That made her laugh. I'd hoped it would. "Vey scares the living daylights outa me."
"Me, too," she said, and we both sat down on the daybed. "What… what was she doing ?"
"Dunno. I mean, I can guess, but that's about it."
"Well, what's your guess?"
"My guess is she was looking to raise Brinvillier Strych."
"Brinvillier Strych? You mean Lord Bonfire? In the stories? He's real ?"
I wondered who was the patron saint of little provincial girls who came to Mélusine without no more brains on 'em than a chickadee. "Fuck, yes," I said. "Porphyria Levant was real, too. I know people who knew Strych."
She opened her mouth and shut it again.
"And I know a guy"—a crazy old resurrectionist so crippled up with arthritis he could hardly move—"who swears he saw them taking Strych's body into the Boneprince."
Her breath hitched in, and she signed herself, that quick five-point circle to ward off hexes and bad luck and Phi-Kethetin's especial dislike.
"Vey Coruscant was his student. Like I said, my guess is she was trying to raise him."
"But he wasn't there. I mean, that voice—"
"I know."
"Do you think he's still… alive?"
"Dunno. I don't think so, though. I mean, if he was—where the fuck is he? He wasn't the sort to lay low, even with the Mirador on his ass. I think they lied about where they put him."
"Oh," she said, like the idea was a relief. "Really?"
"They're hocuses. It's what they do."
She yawned. Not one of them polite, ladylike little yawns to tell the guy he's being a bore, but a real jaw-stretcher.
"Go on and sleep," I said. I got up and went to my own blankets. "It's okay. Whatever was going on in the Boneprince tonight, nobody's gonna have the space to come looking for us for, oh, at least a decad."
She gave a sleepy little chuckle and rolled herself up in the blankets. Far as I could tell, she was asleep as soon as she got settled. As for me, I heard the Nero Street Clock chime the tenth hour that night before I finally fell asleep.
Felix
The rain started sometime later, sometime in the dark. I felt it in my dreams and dreamed of drowning the rest of the night. At dawn, when one of the cat-headed monsters kicked me awake, I was almost glad.
The guards got me down in the mud again when Stephen and Vida walked away from the camp to argue, but they had no higher purpose
"I said your name! I know I did. I am so terribly sorry." Her eyes were huge.
"No, it's okay."
"But you said —you said I shouldn't tell her mine, and surely…"
"No." I could feel my face going red, and that made me feel even stupider. "I mean, that ain't my name."
"What?"
" 'Dennis' ain't my name. It's a whatchamacallit."
"An alias?" she said doubtfully.
"Maybe, if that means a name you use when you don't want nobody to know yours. I got a septad or so
of 'em."
"Really." She thought it over, the color coming back into her face. "Then what should I call you?"
"Oh, Kethe, I don't know." I was tired of it. I'd been tired of it for indictions, since I'd left Keeper and didn't have her to keep me safe. I was tired and lonely, not to mention wet and cold. I said, "My name's Mildmay. That's for real."
She was from Wraith. She didn't know the baggage that name had. "Mildmay," she said. "That's nice. You can call me Ginevra. If you like."
"It's a real pretty name."
Her lips twitched. "My aunt found it in a romance and talked my mother into it. But thank you."
"Here," I said and got off the daybed. "You must be tired."
Her face flooded with color. It was like watching a sunrise.
"What?" I said. I couldn't help checking, but I'd put my trousers on, and they were buttoned. "What is it?"
"I'm sorry. This sounds so horrible, and I'm sure you wouldn't, but…" She took a deep breath, and I did my level best not to stare at her chest. "You won't try anything, will you?"
"If I do, kick me in the balls."
"I'm serious."
"So'm I. I don't like rape, and I ain't in the mood besides." That made her laugh. I'd hoped it would. "Vey scares the living daylights outa me."
"Me, too," she said, and we both sat down on the daybed. "What… what was she doing ?"
"Dunno. I mean, I can guess, but that's about it."
"Well, what's your guess?"
"My guess is she was looking to raise Brinvillier Strych."
"Brinvillier Strych? You mean Lord Bonfire? In the stories? He's real ?"
I wondered who was the patron saint of little provincial girls who came to Mélusine without no more brains on 'em than a chickadee. "Fuck, yes," I said. "Porphyria Levant was real, too. I know people who knew Strych."
She opened her mouth and shut it again.
"And I know a guy"—a crazy old resurrectionist so crippled up with arthritis he could hardly move—"who swears he saw them taking Strych's body into the Boneprince."
Her breath hitched in, and she signed herself, that quick five-point circle to ward off hexes and bad luck and Phi-Kethetin's especial dislike.
"Vey Coruscant was his student. Like I said, my guess is she was trying to raise him."
"But he wasn't there. I mean, that voice—"
"I know."
"Do you think he's still… alive?"
"Dunno. I don't think so, though. I mean, if he was—where the fuck is he? He wasn't the sort to lay low, even with the Mirador on his ass. I think they lied about where they put him."
"Oh," she said, like the idea was a relief. "Really?"
"They're hocuses. It's what they do."
She yawned. Not one of them polite, ladylike little yawns to tell the guy he's being a bore, but a real jaw-stretcher.
"Go on and sleep," I said. I got up and went to my own blankets. "It's okay. Whatever was going on in the Boneprince tonight, nobody's gonna have the space to come looking for us for, oh, at least a decad."
She gave a sleepy little chuckle and rolled herself up in the blankets. Far as I could tell, she was asleep as soon as she got settled. As for me, I heard the Nero Street Clock chime the tenth hour that night before I finally fell asleep.
Felix
The rain started sometime later, sometime in the dark. I felt it in my dreams and dreamed of drowning the rest of the night. At dawn, when one of the cat-headed monsters kicked me awake, I was almost glad.
The guards got me down in the mud again when Stephen and Vida walked away from the camp to argue, but they had no higher purpose
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