Empty Monsters by Cat Hellisen

Author:Cat Hellisen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cat Hellisen
Published: 2018-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

THE CITY OF MALLENIVE proper was not as hot as the scrubby flatlands of the Hob slums outside. The tall houses cast long shadows over the streets, drowning them in cool darkness, and trees planted all along the wide walkways, dropping lilac flowers everywhere, turning the roads into sticky brown and purple carpets. The clean clip-clip of the nillies’ split hooves was muffled by rotting flowers, and Ade let himself be lulled by the slow creak and whistle of the wheels sliding over the mulched cobbles. Plenty of other carts filled the streets, and people trotted in all directions, jabbering and shouting and ignoring each other. No one looked at the travellers. twice, but even so, Ade wished it was colder and he could pull on his jacket, with his collar up high and his cap low, so no one could look at his face and whisper behind their hands.

Ma sat straight and proud, daring these MallenIve idiots to just go ahead and try say something about her own mark. No one cared about two Hobs on the back of a nilly-cart. In a city like MallenIve, Ade and Ma might as well be midges.

The knowledge was comforting. Ade eased his shoulders a little. He was nobody here, and there was a kind of power that came with the anonymity. He almost understood why someone might run from Pelimburg to this shite-hole. Just for the chance to start over, to grow themselves a new long tale to weave through. He took his cap from his head and wiped his damp hair, ruffling it to dry the sweat a little. A river wind blew through the sepia alleyways, and while it didn’t smell like salt and seaweed, there was something homelike in the muddy sweetness of it. Even though he was worried about Door and Gil, Ade found himself relaxing a little. Ma would sort this. That was why he and Door had come here. And all that stuff about him not being meant to be the Onnery-Next and taking the spark out of his head—well, she hadn’t done it, had she? It was just words. He couldn’t live his life wrapping the same threads round and round his fingers, tying himself up in could haves and might-haves and should-haves and what if.

Da, when he used to spend any time in the house, he used to tell Ade that ships don’t have time for panics, and when Ade had his worst fits, Da would say, “One, Ade,” and make him breathe in until his lungs were fit to burst, then Da would let Ade breathe out again. Two and Three were always easier, and by the time they were done, Ade would feel that crashing wave sweeping away. Seemed easy, but it was hard to remember to do it. By the time Ade was caught up in his fears, counting out breaths was the last thing he’d think of doing, but he could do it now. Instead of letting his mind

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