Page 26 of Play of Shadows
‘I’ve got places I can go,’ she said defensively. ‘Vadris offered me a corner in one of his rooms if I agree to begin my training as an artisan.’
I grabbed the girl by the shoulders, determined to make her understand the danger she was placing herself in. ‘How many times have I told you, Zina? A pleasure artisan isnotan actress! Don’t be fooled by Vadris and his false promises. He’ll make you—’
She wriggled from my grip. ‘I know what a pleasure artisan is, Damelas. I’m not stupid.’
‘Then you’ll come and stay with me and Beretto tonight. No arguments. You’ll have to make do with on a rug on the floor next to the sofa where I sleep, but you’ll be safe.’
Of course, if Mother found out there was a third tenant in our apartment, she’d raise the rent, and just as quickly throw us outon the street if we couldn’t pay.
You’ll figure something out,I told myself.Maybe if this new play goes well, Shoville will consider a modest raise?
Zina, ever wary of charity, dismissed my offer. ‘I’ve enough to cover a week’s share at another squat in the tanners’ district.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘If I can stand the smell.’
‘Shoville’s coin won’t last you long,’ I warned.
‘I’ve got other money.’
I suspected she was blustering. I hadn’t seen her begging for weeks. At her advanced age, the beggarmasters would see it as a waste of a street corner; they’d beat her until she either fled or became so pathetic she might actually earn them a few copper tears.
‘Vadris offered me a corner in one of his rooms. . .’ she’d said to me.
‘Zina, tell me where you got this other money.’
At first I thought she wasn’t going to answer. She was an obstinate girl, and my attempts to look out for her sometimes pushed her away and she’d not speak to me for days or even weeks on end. I was about to apologise when the flat line of her mouth cracked into a wicked smile. ‘Beretto.’
‘Beretto?’
Her grin was positively devilish. ‘Sometimes when you leave the theatre before him, I stand outside looking hungry and I tell him you said to wait there because you had something for me to eat. He gets this terribly ashamed look on his face and then passes me a coin or two and says you left it with him to give to me.’
‘He. . .’ I burst out laughing. This wasexactlythe sort of ruse that would work on Beretto– and several times, apparently. ‘You wretched little schemer—’
The costuming bell chimed inside the theatre, calling the actors to get into make-up and regalia for the performance an hourhence. I held my hands out once more and, feeling Zina’s eyes upon me, willed them to stop shaking.
‘Better,’ she said. ‘How do you feel?’
Terrified. Ashamed. Incompetent.
‘Unconquerable,’ I replied, letting the word rumble from low in my diaphragm so it would echo across the alley. I stood up, shoulders back, chest out, chin up. One of the few lines Shoville had scribbled that I actually liked came to mind. ‘Now shall all witness my tale of Dread Archduke Corbier, and the world will tremble at the telling.’
Zina giggled at that, a small, girlish sound that gave me hope.
‘Come on,’ I said, opening the door and beckoning her inside and out of the rain. ‘You can watch from backstage with your brother.’
‘But only the cast and crew are allowed inside the theatre without a ticket– that’s the rule.’
She was right, of course, and Shoville would no doubt berate me for such a violation of the operato’s long-standing rules. But I was sick and tired of playing the rabbit to everyone’s foxes– the duke, the Vixen, the Iron Orchids. The Hells for all of them. Perhaps Iwasnothing more than prey being batted around by scavengers fighting over who got the first bite. But until those teeth actually dug into my flesh, I was going to use this opportunity to bring whatever joy I could to those whose lives contained little of it.
‘Rules? Have you not heard, dear child?’ I asked in a tone so haughty it would have done Abastrini proud. I took Zina by the arm and escorted her inside as if she were a great lady. ‘Damelas Chademantaigne is the star of this show, and it’s past time this city learned what that means.’
Chapter 12
Dressing the Part
Let he who would set himself above these laws be crowned in iron.
Those words haunted me as I navigated the narrow passages of the Operato Belleza, and it was clear I wasn’t the only one to have seen the poster. I’d had to ignore the press of players and stagehands alike, all demanding to know what the hells my plan was to keep them from losing their jobs or getting arrested once the curtain fell on this treasonous new play.
Shoville rescued me, after a fashion, dragging me by the collar into the costuming room. ‘Quickly now,’ he urged, yanking at my shirt. ‘We’ve little enough time before the curtain rises.’
