door. ‘Just prepare yourself, that’s all. He’s not at his best. He was tearing up the room, scratching the bedding to bits and flinging furniture around. We may have to pay the innkeeper extra.’
‘All’s quiet now,’ said Macready. ‘Mayhap he’s knocked himself unconscious.’
‘We can only hope,’ muttered Crane.
Kelpie flung open the door. Macready and Crane peered around her, preparing to duck back out if anything large was flung their way.
The place was a wreck, not least because the window was open and four dozen cats of various breeds had let themselves into the room that had once housed their Lord and master. The ripped mattress now served as a nest, while other cats crouched upon the flat spaces on and around the upturned chairs and table.
‘Which ones are him then?’ Macready asked, counting the black cats among the mass of many.
‘None of them,’ Kelpie said in disgust. ‘Crane, you idiot .’
‘You didn’t hear him,’ Crane complained. ‘It was like being trapped in a room with three Islandsers who all want you to marry their ugly sister.’
‘Charming cultural stereotype, but I take your point,’ said Macready.
‘Five years of animor all in one hit and you let him escape,’ groaned Kelpie.
‘What was I supposed to do—tie him to the bed?’ asked Crane. ‘If all three of us were in here sitting on top of him, he could still leave any time he wanted to.’
‘You didn’t have to make it so easy for him.’
Macready ignored their bickering. He spotted a fallen pink rose among a pile of leggy kittens and grabbed it. ‘I wouldn’t have picked our Ashiol for wearing a Floralia garland.’
‘Are you kidding?’ said Crane. ‘You should have seen him primped up as the Spring Consort—all white satin and ribbons. That one’s from the Duchessa’s dress.’
‘The one he ripped down the middle?’
‘Aye. He was fixated on that gown of hers, kept saying that the dressmaker was a King, or in league with theCreature Court.’ Crane looked at the rose. ‘You don’t think he was right?’
Macready pressed his lips together. ‘I cannot see any of our Lords and Court going to the trouble to make up a frock for the daylight Duchessa, can you?’
‘Did I mention that he was paranoid and raving?’
‘We have to find him,’ said Kelpie. ‘The Arches isn’t home to him any more. If he’s been staying at the Palazzo, maybe he’d go back there.’
‘Cousin or no cousin,’ said Crane, ‘the lictors are after him for assaulting the Duchessa. They’ll have alerted the militia by now, and if they see him they’ll arrest him or lock him up as a lunatic. He’s not so far gone that he wouldn’t know that.’
Macready held up the limp pink rose. ‘I don’t suppose he had more of these on his person?’
‘He had a whole panel from the dress,’ said Crane. ‘Wouldn’t let go of it—I’m surprised he let this one fall.’
‘Our man Ashiol had a keen nose for tracking, did he not? With a handful of that dress in his paw, is it not likely he could track down the person who made it?’
‘Kings,’ Kelpie said in disgust. ‘They always have to do things the hard way. It’ll take him most of the day to track the source across the city.’
‘So,’ said Macready, ‘that gives us most of the day to locate our man before he terrifies some poor dressmaker half to death. It’s a while since we’ve had such a noble mission, is it not?’
16
I t was late. Velody had been out of sorts all day, snappish and tired. Rhian was quiet and distant. Delphine was hells knew where in her best dancing dress, living the high life as hard as she could.
‘I’m glad I wasn’t there,’ said Rhian, staring into the fireplace. ‘At the parade,’ she added, as if Velody might not know exactly what she was referring to.
‘I’m glad of that too,’ said Velody, setting aside a panel of embroidery. She had been trying very hard not to think about the events of that morning.
‘All’s quiet now,’ said Macready. ‘Mayhap he’s knocked himself unconscious.’
‘We can only hope,’ muttered Crane.
Kelpie flung open the door. Macready and Crane peered around her, preparing to duck back out if anything large was flung their way.
The place was a wreck, not least because the window was open and four dozen cats of various breeds had let themselves into the room that had once housed their Lord and master. The ripped mattress now served as a nest, while other cats crouched upon the flat spaces on and around the upturned chairs and table.
‘Which ones are him then?’ Macready asked, counting the black cats among the mass of many.
‘None of them,’ Kelpie said in disgust. ‘Crane, you idiot .’
‘You didn’t hear him,’ Crane complained. ‘It was like being trapped in a room with three Islandsers who all want you to marry their ugly sister.’
‘Charming cultural stereotype, but I take your point,’ said Macready.
‘Five years of animor all in one hit and you let him escape,’ groaned Kelpie.
‘What was I supposed to do—tie him to the bed?’ asked Crane. ‘If all three of us were in here sitting on top of him, he could still leave any time he wanted to.’
‘You didn’t have to make it so easy for him.’
Macready ignored their bickering. He spotted a fallen pink rose among a pile of leggy kittens and grabbed it. ‘I wouldn’t have picked our Ashiol for wearing a Floralia garland.’
‘Are you kidding?’ said Crane. ‘You should have seen him primped up as the Spring Consort—all white satin and ribbons. That one’s from the Duchessa’s dress.’
‘The one he ripped down the middle?’
‘Aye. He was fixated on that gown of hers, kept saying that the dressmaker was a King, or in league with theCreature Court.’ Crane looked at the rose. ‘You don’t think he was right?’
Macready pressed his lips together. ‘I cannot see any of our Lords and Court going to the trouble to make up a frock for the daylight Duchessa, can you?’
‘Did I mention that he was paranoid and raving?’
‘We have to find him,’ said Kelpie. ‘The Arches isn’t home to him any more. If he’s been staying at the Palazzo, maybe he’d go back there.’
‘Cousin or no cousin,’ said Crane, ‘the lictors are after him for assaulting the Duchessa. They’ll have alerted the militia by now, and if they see him they’ll arrest him or lock him up as a lunatic. He’s not so far gone that he wouldn’t know that.’
Macready held up the limp pink rose. ‘I don’t suppose he had more of these on his person?’
‘He had a whole panel from the dress,’ said Crane. ‘Wouldn’t let go of it—I’m surprised he let this one fall.’
‘Our man Ashiol had a keen nose for tracking, did he not? With a handful of that dress in his paw, is it not likely he could track down the person who made it?’
‘Kings,’ Kelpie said in disgust. ‘They always have to do things the hard way. It’ll take him most of the day to track the source across the city.’
‘So,’ said Macready, ‘that gives us most of the day to locate our man before he terrifies some poor dressmaker half to death. It’s a while since we’ve had such a noble mission, is it not?’
16
I t was late. Velody had been out of sorts all day, snappish and tired. Rhian was quiet and distant. Delphine was hells knew where in her best dancing dress, living the high life as hard as she could.
‘I’m glad I wasn’t there,’ said Rhian, staring into the fireplace. ‘At the parade,’ she added, as if Velody might not know exactly what she was referring to.
‘I’m glad of that too,’ said Velody, setting aside a panel of embroidery. She had been trying very hard not to think about the events of that morning.
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