Kester Grant - The Court of Miracles

“It is time, Nina. Remember all I have told you. There is no going back.”

Femi marches me toward the men. People move away to let us pass, looking at me with a hungry interest that I can’t quite like.

We reach the throne and Femi drops to one knee, pulling me with him. “Monseigneur. Vano, Lord of the stolen, Father of thievery and plunder …”

“I’m listening, mon frère, ” Tomasis says.

I find myself pulled back to my feet as Femi rises.

Tomasis glances at the powdered gentleman, who nods at Femi.

“Messenger,” the man says in a honeyed voice.

“Gentleman,” Femi replies with a slight incline of his head; then he turns back to Tomasis.

“I have a new child for you, Monseigneur.”

I immediately lower my eyes to the intricate silken rugs that cover the floor. Femi has told me that I must be prepared to watch much of the proceedings from beneath lowered lashes, but I risk a glance up.

Tomasis smiles a leathery smile, taking a sip of wine from a jewel-studded goblet.

“A child?” he asks, placing the goblet on a delicate mother-of-pearl table beside him before pinioning me with his eyes.

Had I thought his eyes lazy before? They positively eat me whole now. Beside him, the Gentleman tilts his head at me like a bird, considering my potential.

“She is a Cat, Monseigneur,” Femi says.

Tomasis considers Femi, and I can’t help but see the clear resemblance between them: they must be brothers.

“Isn’t recruiting kittens the role of the Master of Beasts? Last I checked, you were still Aves, the Elanion—Messenger to the Miracle Court. Strange, then, that one who carries messages should suddenly take on this new responsibility, especially when you have never shown particular interest in the Cats of this Guild.”

Tomasis is famously suspicious, Femi told me as we crept along the rooftops. You have to be suspicious to become a Guild Lord, and you have to continue to be suspicious if you want to remain one.

Tomasis focuses on me, and when he speaks, his words are deceptively gentle.

“And who are you, little one, that the Messenger of the Miracle Court himself pleads for you?”

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. Despite the swarming buzz of conversation around me, I feel the burning of hundreds of eyes on my back.

“My name is Eponine Thénardier,” I say.

Around us, surprise makes the volume of conversation raise.

Tomasis narrows his eyes at this, taking in the lines of my face, reading me as if to see a resemblance.

“Thénardier is the Master of Beasts of this Guild. He rules beneath me and manages all my children, Dogs, Cats, and Horses. He knows all my business and holds tremendous power within the Shining Hall.”

Power he won after several other Masters died in frequent and mysterious succession, Femi told me. Thénardier has never been shy of slitting a throat or two when needs must.

“Explain what reason I might have to take his own kin from him behind his back?” Tomasis turns to Femi, his gaze burning bright.

Femi doesn’t flinch. “Thénardier has been using his own flesh and blood to perform his best takes—perhaps all of his takes—for the last two years now. The offerings he presented to you were not his to give.”

“A thief, then? Is that what you accuse him of? Thievery is quite a common practice between these walls.”

The hall comes alive with laughter at that. Tomasis smiles pleasantly, but there’s no denying the hardness to his eye and the grim line of his lips.

“And if the offerings he gives me are ample tithe,” Tomasis continues, “what is it to me how he came by them?”

“She is not of the Wretched. She is no child of the Miracle Court, bound by no Guild, bearing no mark—”

“You avoid the question. Why would I insult the Master of Beasts before the whole Guild by taking a Cat, his own flesh and blood, behind his back?”

“Ask her what she has for you.” Femi’s voice is barely a whisper, yet it resounds in the hall.

I reach into my coat and pull out the chain with trembling fingers; the heavy stone follows.

“ Rennart’s balls! Is that the Talisman of Charlemagne?” The Gentleman steps forward and lifts the stone delicately from my palm. He fishes a monocle from his waistcoat pocket and inspects it, turning it over before setting it once again in my hand.

“This stone is one of the crown jewels,” he says.

“Yes,” I say, even though I had no idea.

“They are kept at the Palace of the Tuileries.”

I nod.

“Where was the stone?”

“Around the neck of a boy.” I try hard not to let my voice waver.

The Gentleman starts at that. “A boy ? The Talisman is currently worn by the dauphin of France.”

So that’s who the boy was: prince of the realm. Future king, heir to the throne of France. I let out my breath heavily. I kissed the future king, and he tasted of chocolate …

Tomasis laughs, a tremendous sound bursting with warmth and humor that fills the hall and bounces off the walls and ceiling. “The Talisman of Charlemagne, stolen from the neck of the dauphin. It is worth a sight more to me than Thénardier’s pride,” he says, wiping his glittering eyes.

Femi raises his eyebrows subtly at me.

“This is the offering I bring before you,” I say quickly, reciting the words he taught me on the rooftops. “A gift from the”—I pause to recall the name—“ caliph to the king of Those Who Walk by Day, containing the hair of one of their most holy saints.” I drop to one knee, head bowed. “Take this gift, Lord of Thieves. May it please you and grant me favor. And take me with it, as daughter to you. Let me dwell in your presence as one of the Wretched, a true child of the Miracle Court, and I will serve you for all my days.”

The Gentleman glances to Tomasis, who nods. The powdered man steps forward, clearing his throat.

“What is your name?” he intones.

“I have none until my Father has spoken it.”

“Who is your mother?”

“I have no mother but the City.”

“And who is your Father?”

“I have no Father but the Lord of Thieves.”

The Gentleman lifts his head and looks out at the Thieves in the hall before continuing. “Today you shed your earthen skin and are reborn in the darkness to your Guild and the Wretched—your brothers and sisters.

“Hereafter you will be called by your true name …”

He pauses, glancing at Femi, who, tilting his chin up, says, “Black Cat of the Thieves Guild, daughter of Tomasis, child of the Miracle Court. May they sing your songs forever.”

May they sing your songs forever. The words ring in my ears as a hundred voices repeat them around me.

Tomasis gestures for me to approach. I rise and bring the necklace to him. He leans forward, lowering his head, and I put the heavy chain around his neck. The stone nestles against his chest, glimmering defiantly against the rubies and diamonds beneath it.

“From this day forth I will be your Father,” Tomasis says. “You are bound to me by bone and iron. I lay my mark upon your skin, and you will recognize none but me above you.”

“Thank you, Father,” I say. From the corner of my eye, I see a thin woman dressed in silks approaching, a bottle of dark liquid and a metal quill in her hands.

“From this day forth I will protect you from all things, and you will serve me in all things and abide by the laws of the Miracle Court.”

“I will, my Lord,” I say, trying not to stiffen as the woman reaches me. She tilts my head to the side, exposing my neck, and with a swiftness that is astounding, and a biting, burning pain, she tattoos a shape into the soft skin behind my ear.