‘She rose after an hour, fetching her golden pipe. Wordlessly, she mixed a blend of rêvre and traproot, tongue poked between her lips. I watched her breathe down that sweet smoke, and she seemed a statue in the dim light, carved by the hand of God.
‘The God she’d soon be married to …
‘“My head hurts,” Chloe murmured, rubbing her temples.
‘“Oui.” I nodded, cracking my neck. “I’ve paleblood eyes, and still they’re aching in this candlelight. Almighty only knows how you’re both managing.”
‘Astrid sighed grey out the window. “All this would be easier if we were allowed access to this drivel during daylight. Such as daylight is. But we’re both girls, and you’re an initiate, and none of those circumstances looks set to change anytime soon. So, I’m afraid we’re at the mercy of Archivist Adamo and his idiotic rules.”
‘Chloe nodded and sighed. “What a world this would be, were it not held wholly and solely in the grip of stubborn old men.”
‘Astrid scoffed. “Oui.”
‘“I venture it’s less to do with the fact they’re men,” I said. “More that they’re old.”
‘Astrid’s dark eyes flickered to mine. “You’d venture that, would you?”
‘“Oh dear …” Chloe murmured.
‘I shrugged. “Prioress Charlotte seems just as bad as Archivist Adamo.”
‘“A fine riposte,” Astrid ceded. “But Prioress Charlotte is a product of Church indoctrination. And the Church is held wholly and solely in the grip of stubborn old men.”
‘“… You’re going to make a very strange nun, Astrid Rennier.”
‘“Honestly, look around you. You haven’t noticed there’s not a single woman in a position of real power in this monastery?”
‘“I had,” I admitted. “But what about San Michon? She was a woman.”
‘“Don’t get me started on the pantheon. There’s Seven Holy Martyrs, Gabriel de León. And one dame among them. We’re half the fucking population, you know.”
‘“Well, what of the Mothermaid? She’s a woman. Second only to God Himself.”
‘“Oh, oui, the holy virgin.” Astrid rolled her eyes. “Let me tell you, if the Almighty offered me the platter of shit that constitutes divine motherhood and yet denied me the pleasure of a good roll in the hay beforehand, I’d have told him to go fuck himself.”
‘“Astrid!” Chloe gasped, making the sign of the wheel. “Blasphemy!”
‘“Oh, he knows I don’t mean it,” she scoffed, glancing up. “He knows everything.”
‘I was taken aback also, and not simply at the sisternovice’s sacrilege. To hear her talk so reminded me just how vast the gulf between us was. Astrid was half royalty. I was half monster. She was a child of the Golden Court. I was a brat from the provinces. But more, and most, Astrid Rennier was a courtesan’s daughter. She’d likely seen and done things I could scarce imagine. Wonderful things. Wicked things. I lowered my gaze then. Chewed my lip. Astrid looked at me through coal-dark lashes.
‘“How old are you?”
‘“… My saintsday is in five days,” I realized. “I’ll be sixteen.”
‘“Almost a man.” She tilted her head. “And still I make him blush.”
‘“That mouth of yours could make a sailor blush, Astrid Rennier.”
‘“Good God Almighty …” Chloe breathed.
‘I glanced up at the awe and fear in the sisternovice’s voice, followed her eyeline to the windows. Light flared in the dark outside, and for a terrible moment, I feared some discovery. But Astrid pushed the glass open, breathing a wondering sigh.
‘Chloe and I clustered behind. And looking into the dark above, I beheld a sight I couldn’t recall seeing since I was a child. A sight none of us understood at the time. A sight that was to change my life, and the shape of this entire empire.
‘A falling star.
‘Its light was dim, and yet it must have burned with impossible fury to be seen through the daysdeath pall at all. I followed its path across the shadowed heavens, felt my skin prickling. Looking to Astrid beside me, I saw her smile, that falling radiance reflected in the bloodshot dark of her eyes, tracing a pale luminance down her cheek.
‘“Beautiful,” we both whispered.
‘She glanced to me, and I turned away, looking up to the dark above. Was this an omen? A portent of evil or harbinger of chaos? I didn’t know whether to pray or panic. Still, in the end, I was a peasant boy. Folklore about my village held that shooting stars were the spirits of new saints, ready to begin a life here on the earth. And so, I did what any lad from the Nordlund provinces would’ve done.’
Jean-Fran?ois smiled, writing in his tome. ‘You made a wish.’
‘That I did.’
‘How quaint. What did you wish for?’
Gabriel stared for a long moment at the wine in the bottom of his goblet. Watching the way the light played in the red, the sound of broken glass and breaking hearts echoing in his head. He drained the last of it, poured another.
‘Doesn’t matter. Didn’t come true.’
‘But the appearance of that star changed your life?’
Gabriel nodded. ‘We’d not learn ’til years later what it actually meant. But the sight alone was enough to push the pebbles that would become the avalanche. Chloe’s jaw hung open as she looked up to that falling light in wonder, and from there, into my eyes.
‘“Auspicious,” she murmured. “Most auspicious indeed.”
‘“What do you mean?”
‘She looked around the forbidden section, the dust-dry tomes and words forgot. “I mean it’s not by chance the three of us met among these shelves tonight. That much is plain for any with eyes to see.”
‘“… Chloe?” Astrid asked.
‘The little sisternovice looked back to that burning star above. “The divine light of the Almighty shines upon us. I admit I doubted, but I was right to trust you, Azzie. God Himself has marked this moment.” She glanced between us, a fervent smile on her lips. “I think he intends great things for us, mes amis. I think this meeting was ordained.”’
In the reaches of that lonely tower, Jean-Fran?ois of the Blood Chastain stifled a yawn. ‘She sounds positively unbalanced.’
‘As I said, Chloe Sauvage was one of the shrewdest bitches I ever met.’
‘An errant speck of flotsam plummets through the firmament, and she feels the breath of God upon her neck? The girl was clearly deranged, de León.’
‘No.’ The Last Silversaint shook his head. ‘To a simpleton’s mind, she might’ve appeared such. To someone not raised in a place like San Michon, surrounded every day by trappings of the holy and words of the Almighty. But Chloe Sauvage was no lunatic. She was something twice as dangerous. Something I was too back then. But will never be again.’
‘And what is that, Silversaint?’
Gabriel met the vampire’s eyes, a bitter smile on his lips.