Chapter 33 Seraphine
When the lone guitarist strummed his first note, Sera’s stomach turned. On the edge of the Old Chapine, she sank into a crouch, straining to see beneath his hat.
Val stood behind her, her crossbow hanging limply by her side. ‘Shit.’
‘Holy fucking Delano, that sonorous bastard,’ said Caruso, grabbing the back of Val’s coat. ‘I told you not to stand so close to the edge.’
She shook him off. ‘Why is the Saint of Corpses serenading our city?’
Worse than that. Lark was singing Saint Celiana’s song of peace.
‘One eve while I was fretting beneath a chestnut tree,
A dove came soft and cooing and perched alongside me.
Calmed by her gentle presence, my worrying did cease,
And there inside the forest glade, I found a ray of peace.’
As the Necromancer’s voice wafted all the way to the rooftops and the people of Fantome listened in a starry-eyed stupor that had nothing at all to do with magic, Andreas’s plan crystallized before Seraphine. ‘He’s charming them. The old-fashioned way.’
And it was … working. The parade was a marvellous spectacle. Andreas had dredged the east plains for their farmers and villagers, and sent them dancing down Merchant’s Way. To the untrained eye they looked happy, giddy. The bannermen were grinning, their motto rippling in the rising wind.
Let peace dance across the plains of Valterre
On the Bridge of Tears, Ransom and Anouk straddled the railings. It was there that Ransom’s beast had taken shape only moments ago.
A dragon.
Larger than anything he had ever conjured before. And far more terrifying.
How long had he been working on making such a creature?
And what was it taking from his soul?
Ransom’s dragon opened its terrible wings.
A pit yawned in Sera’s stomach.
There were golems too. An entire horde of stone giants assembling along the riverbank.
‘This is not a good look,’ muttered Val.
No need for truth magic now. Anyone with eyes could see who the true and prescient threat was.
On the other side of the Verne, Paola dissolved her storm clouds, Tobias scattered his gulls and Theo lowered his crossbow.
The Strix weren’t coming. Nor was Andreas’s army.
The Silver-tongue had something else in mind.
Doubt nagged at Sera. They had pored over every possible eventuality, but not this. They had planned for war, not a parade. For terror, not peace. Or at least the illusion of it.
Confined to the rooftops, the Order of Flames could only watch in mounting horror as the Hale siblings wrestled with the dark pull of their magic.
And all the while the people sang:
‘When again I went there walking, a hunter I did meet,
In greed he came to kill my dove and take her heart to eat.
Deep in her breast the arrow struck, his prize was all but won,
Yet to my shock, the dove took flight and soared into the sun.’
Anouk’s golems sprang to life.
Ransom’s dragon lifted into flight.
‘All hell.’ Val dropped her crossbow with a violent clatter. ‘Are we the monsters?’
Sera couldn’t tear her eyes off Ransom’s dragon, her spine tingling as Lark’s stirring chorus descended into terrified screams.
Caruso tossed aside his weapon. ‘Why am I always the villain, even when I switch sides?’
‘They need to retreat,’ said Sera with mounting urgency. ‘Why the hell aren’t they—’ Dread snatched the words from her as the dragon swooped, skimming the waters of the Verne.
The townsfolk fell to their knees and covered their heads.
Lark made a show of shaking his guitar at the sky.
‘Spare us, Saint of Nightmares! We beg your mercy!’
‘Theatrical bastard,’ said Caruso with a hint of amusement.
Val shoved him. ‘It’s not funny!’
No. It was clever. Anyone close enough to the Saint of Corpses could see the shit-eating smirk under that hat, but the people of Fantome were too busy running for their lives.
Anouk’s golems lumbered north, ripping up the street as they went. Taverns trembled. Shutters snapped, while smaller shopfronts buckled. The dragon banked, turning east and heading for the bannermen.
‘They’ve lost control,’ said Val. ‘We have to stop them.’
Sera was already running, tossing aside her crossbow as she made for the fire escape.
Val cried, ‘Wait for me!’
Caruso grabbed her by the waist. ‘Only one of you needs to risk her neck, kitten.’
Sera left her friend swinging at Caruso as she climbed down. Hopping the last three rungs, she hit the ground running. Fresh screams filled the air as she bolted over the cobbles.
Ransom was still on the bridge … within reach, even as his dragon flew on, sowing terror over the north quarter. She bolted towards him, so squarely set on the bridge that she missed the figure lunging from a nearby alley.
A body slammed into her ribcage.
Sera hit the ground with a hard slap. Bucking out instinctively, she jammed her foot into a kneecap, and heard an answering hiss of pain. ‘You little bitch.’
Lisette.
The Dagger rounded on her. ‘Should have worn your cloak, Maker,’ Lisette sneered, drawing her blade.
Scrabbling backwards, Sera reached for her own dagger. ‘Not dancing in your little parade then, Lisette? Two left feet, is it?’
‘I’ve always been better at killing.’
‘Especially when it’s one of your own.’
‘Ransom is the one who betrayed us,’ she snarled. ‘The Daggers have always allied with power.’
‘Is that what today is all about? Because it looks to me like one big shitty jig.’
Lisette’s red lips curled. ‘Too slow, farmgirl. Don’t you see?
Today’s spectacle is all about you and those monstrous saints you love to make, your Saint of Nightmares chief among them.
’ Canting her head she crooned, ‘Tell me, how do you save a city that fears you? How do you rule a kingdom that despises you?’
‘Why don’t you ask Andreas?’ spat Sera.
‘Andreas doesn’t need them to love him. He just needs them to hate you. And when that dragon is done tearing its way through an innocent parade, they will. Those poor villagers can’t even put up a fight. By the sound of those screams, I’d say the prince’s plan is working well enough. Wouldn’t you?’
‘So what’s in it for you, Lisette? Do you get to lick his boots at the end of every day?’
‘I get to do whatever the hell I want. As long as I kill you.’ Lisette lunged.
Sera dodged to the left, bringing her knife backwards in an arc.
It slashed through Lisette’s leather tunic, but the Dagger was quick on her feet. Reeling backwards, she ducked Sera’s next blow and slammed her fist into her throat.
Sera collapsed to the ground, choking.
Lisette went for the kill, kicking away her dagger.
‘Pathetic,’ she scoffed, backhanding Sera in the mouth. Blood spattered across the cobbles, and to her shame a whimper eked out.
Lisette crouched over her. ‘I never understood what Ransom saw in you. Why he would risk it all for such a little moth.’
Sera yanked Lisette’s ponytail until her chin jerked back to the sky. Using it like a rope, she hinged upright until they were nose to nose. ‘You mean Maker,’ she said with blood on her teeth. ‘I doubt destiny even knows your name.’
Eyes streaming, Lisette hissed, ‘Doesn’t matter any more, farmgirl.’ Her blade struck true this time, sinking into Sera’s shoulder. In the squall of pain Sera released her. Lisette’s free hand shot out, seizing her throat.
Sera’s scream cut out.
Lisette raised her blade, ‘Let’s try this again, shall we, farm bitch?’
‘Good idea,’ croaked a new voice. A cane swung out of thin air and walloped Lisette in the side of the head. The crack was sharp, like an egg breaking on the cobbles. Those taunting eyes rolled backwards as the Dagger collapsed in a heap.
Removing the hood of her cloak, Madame Fontaine stepped out of a shadow and casually examined Lisette’s corpse.
Sera blinked up at the old woman. ‘You just saved my life.’
‘No shit.’ Fontaine straightened the clasp on her cloak. ‘You’re lucky I decided to show up.’
When Sera didn’t reply, just stared dumbly, the soothsayer prodded her with her cane. ‘For the love of Oriel, go put an end to this unholy disaster before those reckless Hales destroy the whole city. And watch your back this time. Andreas’s assassins are skittering about like rats.’
Staunching the wound in her shoulder, Sera rolled to her feet and continued towards the bridge.
Ransom and Anouk had pushed north by then, moving towards the scattered parade.
Townsfolk were running for cover, while Ransom’s dragon circled Merchant’s Way.
Anouk’s giants flattened everything in their path. Not just buildings, but bannermen too.
When Sera made it to the bridge, Paola came running from the other side. Her eyes were shot with terror, her hands trembling as she reached for her. ‘Tobias took an arrow in the back.’
Sera looked past Paola, to where Theo was holding up his younger cousin. Blood spattered the cobbles around them as Tobias’s head lolled back and forth.
‘Andreas has sent out his Daggers,’ said Sera urgently. ‘They’re coming for all of us.’
Paola’s gaze fell to the wound in Sera’s shoulder, the dried blood there a crimson starburst. ‘Take him back to the cathedral with you. He’s not safe out here. And neither are you.’
‘I have to get to Ransom. He’s lost his grip on his magic. They’re going to kill innocents.’
‘We’ll go,’ said Paola, gesturing to Theo. ‘We have our own protection.’
The kind of power Sera could give but never possess. If she remained out in the open like this, Andreas would come for her again. And next time, Fontaine wouldn’t be there to save her.
‘Please.’ Paola’s voice was ragged. ‘Take him. Protect him.’
There wasn’t time to argue. Sera reached for Tobias. He staggered into her embrace, both of them bleeding as they turned back towards the Saints’ Quarter. With a parting nod, Paola and Theo went headlong into the chaos on Merchant’s Way, chasing after Ransom and Anouk.
Tobias groaned against Sera as they made their way to Our Sacred Saints’ Cathedral, their designated safe house. The sanctuary was being overseen by Madame Mercure, guarded by Albert and a group of Cloaks who had volunteered as backup.
Despite the short distance, the journey to the cathedral was an arduous one and she tensed at every flitting shadow.
She told herself she was being paranoid, that the darkness on this side of the city belonged to them. But as the steps of the cathedral finally edged into view, the hairs on the back of her neck rose.
A figure stepped out from behind a nearby streetlamp, and she braced herself for another attack.
By the time she recognized Nadia, the Dagger was pointing a crossbow at her.