City of Ruin - Mark Charan Newton [137]
‘No more than you would do.’
‘I select my targets,’ he snapped, returning his gaze to Cerberus. ‘I’m no random killing machine.’
‘Hmm. Well, in answer to your question, it already knows her scent.’
‘Then send it off, and let’s get this business over with.’
Sycoraxe hobbled up to the creature and breathed something into Cerberus’s nearest ear. She then led it downstairs and Malum followed, watching it descend with its awkward gait.
The mass of black paused in the street as snow spiralled about it. Both moons glowed diffusely beneath a thin layer of cloud hanging low in the west, but above the city itself there hovered the remnants of a sudden blizzard. Cressets and oil lamps glowed from inside neighbouring houses. Cerberus was kicking plumes of snow around, curious and disturbingly ludic, then with a word from Sycoraxe’s mouth it ceased, and came to attention.
She uttered another order, and the gargantuan beast lumbered off into the night.
*
‘Are you happy now?’
‘Yes, of course I am,’ Beami replied. ‘Relieved too, and happier once I collect the rest of my things. I suspect I’ll miss him for a while.’
‘Really?’
‘It’s from habit more than anything else, I guess. Any new routine makes me feel unsettled. I know instinctively I’ve made the right decision; it doesn’t stop me from feeling like a shit.’
Lupus seemed to half expect some thanks from her, and tried to probe her mind further. ‘Do you reckon that my staying here, you know, in Villiren, helped things along?’
‘I’d taken other lovers after you,’ Beami interrupted, and the sudden disappointment in his eyes forced her to continue quickly. Men and their egos . . . ‘They just helped me through when I needed a little help. When I wanted to feel something, before I met him. This isn’t only about you. It never was – much as I adore you. It is about getting away from . . . him. I suppose I could have gone and stayed with Zizi or someone, but I wanted to make a clean break.’
‘I’m fine with that, really,’ Lupus replied.
He had helped move her into a safe apartment half a mile from the Ancient Quarter, near one of the major stairwells that led down to the escape tunnels, ever concerned for her safety during any forthcoming fighting. It was a plain room, with unattractive furniture, but at least it was her own. He had asked her if she wanted to invite some of her friends from the Symbolist, in fact was hoping to meet them himself, but she declined, preferring something altogether calmer tonight. So while she unpacked he purchased coloured lanterns and cheap food and made a fire. He rustled up a traditional slave dish from the ore-mining days, and they were able to make a night of things. She drank beer from the bottle faster than he could, like they used to.
Later, after several quick alcohol-tinged kisses, they lay on the bed feeling quite separated from everyday life, listening to the sounds of the city nearby, louder than her old home, more sporadic, more unsettling. She didn’t like living near two bordellos situated on the south side of the street. He couldn’t resist some cheap jokes, and within the minute her hands were moving down towards his breeches.
*
Later, she joined Lupus in peering out of the window. It overlookene of the rare crooked streets that curved away from the Ancient Quarter. The original gothic architectures had been preserved anere well lit by torches and storm lanterns. Two teenagers wearinarish masks shuffled by drunkenly, their arms around each other, anhey walked right past the man sheltering in a doorway without givinim a second glance. Their raucous laughter could be heard echoinrom a nearby alleyway.
Suddenly something lumbered briefly across the periphery of his vision.
Beami must have noticed his reaction because she said, ‘What’s wrong?’
He glanced instinctively over to his compound bow resting in the corner, then to the quiverful of