City of Lies - Lian Tanner [46]
The moon was covered by cloud, and her eyes told her very little. She could see the dark bulk of the deserted stalls and something that might have been an old cart. Nothing else.
Beside her, the cat’s tail switched back and forth.
Goldie’s nose told her that the yard hadn’t been used by humans for years. It stank of wet feathers and fur. Of tiny battles. Of winter hunger, and the sudden spurt of hot blood.
Her ears told her … nothing at all.
Her skin prickled. A place that smelled like this should be full of small sounds. The patter of paws. The sleepy shuffle of birds. The squeal of unexpected death.
Instead, an unnatural stillness hung over the stableyard, as if the creatures that normally lived here were holding their breath, waiting for some greater predator to leave.
What were they afraid of, she wondered. Her? The cat? Or …
“There’s someone else here, isn’t there?” she whispered to the cat. “Where are they? Can you show me?”
The cat bumped against her, then stalked away across the yard. Goldie followed, putting her feet down heel-to-silent-toe, the way she had learned in the museum. The first row of horse stalls loomed up, then the second. Goldie crept along the back of them, wondering where the cat was taking her.
Then she saw it—the faintest of lights shining through a grating.
She touched the back of the stall with her fingertips and felt a vibration, as if someone had grown tired of standing still and was shifting from one foot to the other. She stood on tiptoe and peeped through the grating.
The first thing she saw was a lantern. It hung from the ceiling of the stall, its light almost totally hidden by iron shutters. In the single faint beam that remained, Goldie could just make out a shadowy figure.
A familiar figure wearing a green cloak and a cat mask.
It was Flense.
Goldie could have cried with disappointment. All her hopes for a quick journey home crashed to the ground. There was no ship leaving for Jewel. There was no safe passage. Pounce had betrayed them.
The woman moved her feet again. “Come on,” she whispered. “Where are you, brats? Come on.”
When Goldie heard that voice, her wrist began to burn as if there were a silver cuff rubbing against it. Her skin crawled.
No, she thought. No, it’s not possible.…
“By the Black Ox!” murmured the woman. “Where are they?” She pushed her mask up onto her forehead and rubbed her eyes. Her cloak swirled. The narrow beam of the lantern fell across her face.
Goldie blinked. The stableyard swam around her, as if the world had tipped on its axis. The cat mask winked malevolently.
A cat …
But it was not the memory of the fortune that made Goldie tremble. Nor was it Pounce’s treachery. She crept away from the stalls, her whole body cold with shock. The cat leaped over the wall ahead of her, and she followed it, stumbling around the block and down the deserted street to where her friends were waiting.
She could feel Toadspit’s eyes on her as she approached. “It’s a trap, isn’t it,” he whispered.
Goldie nodded. Swallowed. Touched her mask. Could hardly believe what she had seen.
“What?” whispered Toadspit. “Tell me.”
“The woman in the green cloak. Flense. The one who’s running things for Harrow. She’s—she’s—”
“Ffffoul!” spat the cat, whipping its tail from side to side.
“She’s—”
“Tell me!”
Goldie took a shaky breath. “She’s Blessed Guardian Hope!”
Toadspit and Bonnie stared at Goldie in horror.
Blessed Guardian Hope, the woman who had tried to sell Goldie into slavery! The woman who, along with the Fugleman, had nearly destroyed Jewel.
“But she’s dead!” said Bonnie. “She drowned six months ago, her and the Fugleman.”
“Shhhhh! No one ever found their bodies.”
“No, but—”
“We have to get away from here,” said Goldie. “She’ll realize something’s wrong soon and come looking