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The Court of Miracles. Kester Grant
Читать онлайн.Название The Court of Miracles
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008254797
Автор произведения Kester Grant
Жанр Ужасы и Мистика
Серия The Court of Miracles Trilogy
Издательство HarperCollins
The Dead Lord.
Corday agrees with a tilt of her head. “So you are right, little Cat, to seek an audience with him.”
She motions to Montparnasse, and the bonds at our wrists are sliced with the whistle of a sharp blade.
“You must find the Ghosts,” Corday says. “They are incomprehensible at the best of times, and I hear the absence of their Father makes them … even worse. I wish you both the best of luck. Shall we drink to your endeavor?”
I’m left with the feeling I’ve missed a fundamental part of the conversation. Did we just walk into the Assassins Guild looking for clues about the Dead Lord, only to be sent to find the Ghosts? Nobody has seen them in weeks. Was this some sort of test?
Col-Blanche moves to a small side table and pours sparkling white wine into two cut-crystal glasses. He carries them over on a tray and offers them to us.
I hesitate. The Master of Poisons is offering me a drink. A drink no one else in the room is drinking. This is definitely a test.
“I thank you, sir, but I’m afraid we can’t accept your generosity,” I say.
Corday smiles, showing her even white teeth. The sight fills me with dread.
“Wise, little kitten.” She pulls a gold pocket watch out of a fold in her dress. It’s a small, intricate thing hanging on a long chain, with a brass serpent twisted around its face.
“Now, if you could both look closely at this.” Corday’s tone indicates we have little choice.
I squint at the tiny gilt thing; it has Roman numerals of black, and hands like knives behind its glass face.
As the watch moves back and forth, the numbers blur together. I try to focus on them, but my thoughts seem to slow and the room grows wider, stranger; the crackling of the fire is loud in my ears.
Behind me, Ettie gives an odd sigh.
I try to turn to her, but my feet won’t obey. My fingers scrabble uselessly at my coat, trying to grab for my dagger, but I can’t seem to lift them. A wave of dizziness overcomes me. Have the Death Dealers given me some drug after all?
With a thud, Ettie crumples to the floor.
“You’re a fighter, aren’t you?” Corday says to me, her voice seeming to come from far away. “That’s good.”
“We came for your help.” My words catch on my tongue and trip at my teeth.
I slump to my knees.
“It doesn’t work on everyone. Some can fight it. Few are immune. The trick, little Cat, is not to look.”
The last thing I see are Corday’s eyes, wide and bright, drowning me inside them.
I hear a sound like someone clapping their hands together.
“Nous sommes d’un sang, little Cat. I hope we meet again soon.”
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