DARREN SHAN
City of the Snakes
For:
Liam, Biddy & Bas — Snakes, Troops, Kluxers — all
OBE (Order of the Bloody Entrails) to:
Darren O’Shaughnessy and D B Shan — gone but not forgotten
Edited by:
Sarah Hodgson — running solo, like Capac, now
The City could not have been built without all of the architects and tradespeople of the Christopher Little crew
part I. pretender to the throne
1: a toast
The Cardinal is dead — long live The Cardinal!”
Cathal Sampedro and the three other men in my office applaud soundly as Gico Carl makes the toast. They’re all grinning inanely — they love me to death. I smile obligingly and tip my crystal glass to Gico’s. I’m not a champagne man by nature, but when the occasion calls for it…
“Ten years, Capac,” Gico beams, licking his lips nervously. I pretend not to notice the giveaway gesture. “Seems like only yesterday.”
This is boring. I know they’re here to kill me. I wish they’d stop wasting my time with small talk and just get on with it.
“Remember the night…,” Cathal begins and I tune out. Cathal has the gift of making the most fascinating anecdote sound incredibly dull. His stories are best ignored if possible, and since I’m The Cardinal, lord of the city, I can ignore anyone I damn well please.
The Cardinal is dead — long live The Cardinal. It’s been said to me many times over the last decade, occasionally by those who mean it, more often by fools like these who think they can replace me.
Ten years. A long time by most standards, but Gico — once-loyal Gico Carl, the man I chose to succeed Frank Weld as head of the Troops — is right. It does seem like yesterday. I can recall every detail of Ferdinand Dorak’s twisted expression as he stepped up to the edge of the roof of Party Central. Half excited, half fearful, thoroughly demented. “Here’s to a long life, Capac Raimi,” he cheered. Then, with one final “Farewell!” he leaped and the reins of power passed to me. I’ve been fighting to cling to them ever since.