Birds of a Feather

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

When we got back to the Founders Tower, Warden sat at his desk, writing. I sat by the fire for a while, just so I could warm up. He let me.

I watched a candle burn to nothing. Once I had got a glass of water, I plucked up the nerve to ask if I could retire to my quarters. He gave me a curt affirmative.

In the attic, I applied the salve and a fresh dressing. My head was in agony. I extinguished the lamp and tucked myself in.

I slept badly for the rest of the night. Some time after dawn, I woke up and vomited, barely making it to the toilet in time.

Just a few days ago, I had been convinced I would never dreamwalk. Now I had proven I could do it several times, given the right conditions – but at what cost, I didn’t know. I had no life support.

Jaxon would be delighted. He would certainly approve of what Warden was doing – forcing me to reach my potential, regardless of my reservations. Had Nick not been there to temper him, Jaxon would likely have done the same.

I splashed my face and rubbed the stubborn pain in my temple. My hair was a greasy tangle, my stomach raw. Once I was sure I wouldn’t be sick again, I rinsed my mouth and crawled back into bed.

If this is a gift, I thought, why does it hurt as much as it does?

The bell woke me at dusk. All I wanted to do tonight was curl up tight and lick my wounds, but the oracle clearly had something to say. Still hurting, I dressed and slowly went downstairs, finding the parlour silent. Another note lay on the desk.

You have a fortnight to recover. There is a painkiller with your usual pills. If you can, research the Emim.

He was already preparing me for my next test. I took my pills, then sat and dozed by the fire, watching the mantel clock. Just before midnight, I left.

The painkiller had blunted my pounding headache. When I requested more numa, Gail handed me a dull pearl and a few tin rings.

Warden was elsewhere in the residence. I could sense him somewhere above ground level.

It was crisp outside, the air misted with rain. I went straight to the Rookery, which had returned to its usual capacity. Finding her shack deserted, I looked for Liss, imagining the worst.

‘She isn’t here,’ a voice called. ‘She’s practising at the Camera.’

Nell was standing by a fire, her dark curls in a bun on the top of her head.

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Do you know when she’ll be back?’

‘Not until dawn. I’ll tell her you stopped by.’

‘Is everyone all right?’

Nell nodded. ‘I don’t think anyone got hurt this time, other than bone-grubbers.’ She stifled a harsh cough. ‘One of my friends is an anthomancer. Do you have any more of those rose petals?’

‘Not today. I’ll tell you if I get some.’

‘Thanks.’

Another voyant was overjoyed to see a pearl for the first time in years, even if it was small and flawed. He filled a mug with skilly for me and promised I could have a serving every day for a week.

For once, it was all I wanted. Forcing some of it down, I headed for the building the map named as the Townsend, the pillared sentinel of the Old Library. It was next to the Fell Theatre, where the performers apparently put on plays and masques.

The oracle sat on its steps. When he spotted the mug, he lifted an eyebrow.

‘Are you eating skilly?’

‘Apparently,’ I said. ‘Why, are you hiding a pantry somewhere?’

‘I cut a deal with a rottie. She skims a few scraps off the red-jackets’ food.’ He held out a hand, which I shook. ‘David Fitton.’

‘Paige. I assume that was an act yesterday,’ I added. ‘Nashira clearing your eyes, and all that.’

‘Surprised a voyant knows how to pretend to be something he’s not?’

‘No,’ I said truthfully. ‘You almost had me convinced.’

‘Good. If you haven’t got anything better to do, I thought I’d take you for a walk.’

‘Like a dog?’

David huffed a mirthless laugh. ‘I feel like one here, trained to obey.’ He stood. ‘If anyone asks, we’re researching the Emim.’

‘I got the same instruction.’

‘I think we can assume the second test has something to do with them.’

‘I’m surprised they’re shoving us through them so quickly. I thought they would give us more time,’ I said. ‘If only to fight among ourselves.’

‘What I’m about to show you may help you understand.’

‘I didn’t realise this was a walking tour.’

‘Unless you’re a red-jacket, we have to make our own fun here, Paige.’

The Old Library was sealed on all sides, every window and door boarded. We left its shadow, needled by cold rain. I was going to have to find something to pad my clothes in the Rookery.

David gave me enough space that our auras never touched. He was about two inches taller than me, long in the arms and thick in the torso.

‘We’ll match our auras soon.’ He tapped his tunic. ‘Strange to have you around. I’m used to being the interesting one.’

‘I’d prefer not to be this interesting sometimes.’

We walked down Catte Street, entering the deserted Radcliffe Square. Through the fog, I saw its centrepiece, the large drumlike building with a leaded dome, which stood opposite the Residence of the Suzerain. A dim and tawny light shone through its windows.

‘That’s the Camera, if you didn’t know,’ David said. ‘The Overseer told me the harlies train at height in there – tightrope, trapeze, that sort of thing.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know how they stand it.’

‘Why were you with the Overseer?’

‘He waylaid me after my test and invited me for dinner at Kettell Hall. Pleione let me go,’ he said. ‘Beltrame seems to hold the highest rank among humans. Better to keep him on side, isn’t it?’

I frowned. ‘Why would he invite you for dinner?’

‘I imagine I looked like I needed it.’ He indicated the back of his shoulder. ‘He’s probably just unwinding, now the Bone Season is over for a decade. And he likes us. Me and you, I mean.’

‘I doubt that. He detained me himself.’

‘Exactly. He’s been trying to root out rare voyants, but he hadn’t found many before we appeared.’

‘So he’s a procurer.’

‘He curates the voyants the Vigiles put in the Tower,’ David said. ‘He’s trying to live up to the legacy of the previous Overseer.’

‘What happened to the previous one?’

‘Not sure, but he lived in London, not Oxford. Beltrame is on a tighter leash. He’s usually only allowed to visit London a couple of days a year, to liaise with the Vigiles.’

‘What, and we just happened to run into him on the two days he was in town?’

‘No. Nashira let him stay there for the final month of the hunt. Guess he was desperate by that point. He thinks the syndicate is protecting the rarest voyants, making them harder to find.’

Beltrame was right. If I had been on my own turf when I was arrested, Jaxon could have saved me.

‘That’s why he likes us,’ David said. ‘He netted two jumpers, including a dreamwalker, at the eleventh hour. We saved his reputation.’

Ours was the seventh order of clairvoyance – the highest, according to On the Merits of Unnaturalness. Jaxon prized our abilities even above his own.

I finished the skilly. ‘You’re not part of the syndicate, then?’

‘No. I was only visiting London when I was arrested.’

‘Where are you from?’

‘Kent.’ David smiled. ‘You ask a lot of questions, Paige.’

‘Isn’t that the point of this?’

‘Maybe. I also just wanted to meet you. I hoped someone from my order would be a good ally,’ he said. ‘Birds of a feather, and so on.’

‘Depends what you’re trying to achieve.’

‘You first.’

‘I want to get out of here in one piece.’

David cocked an eyebrow. ‘You don’t want to know more about this place first?’

‘Not particularly. It’s a prison.’

‘You seriously don’t care that humans aren’t alone – that there’s another world we never knew about before?’ The corner of his mouth twitched. ‘You’re a difficult woman to impress, Paige.’

I hung the mug on a finial.

‘I care,’ I said. ‘I’m just not sure it’s wise to linger.’

‘Then let’s help each other. Have you sniffed out anything of interest?’

‘Not much.’

‘That’s fine. I’ll start.’

Our destination turned out to be the towering derelict between Magdalen Walk and Radcliffe Square, named on the map as the Vault. Several of its windows had no glass, and the door of the south porch – framed by twisting columns – was charred, with a gap at the bottom.

‘There’s a hidden balcony on the steeple. The view is great for stargazing,’ David said. ‘And from what the Overseer told me, you’re used to heights.’ He ducked under the door. ‘Watch out.’

Graffias was coming down the street, leading three undernourished amaurotics. I cursed under my breath and went after David.

Inside, I beheld a scene of destruction. There had been a significant fire in here. Some of the ceiling had collapsed, the scorched beams flattening the pews, and stained glass shimmered on the floor, mingled with dust and ash. I picked my way through the rubble.

Scion forbade all religion, deriding it as unnatural. In London, most places of worship had been converted into Vigile stations or district halls, but you could still find them in this state, left as warnings to anyone who dared to defy the anchor.

‘There are stairs,’ David called to me. ‘Over a hundred, by my count.’

‘Fine, but this had better be worth it.’

In my exhausted state, it took me a while to get up all those steps. When I emerged at the top, a high wind caught my hair, whipping it around my face.

David rested his arms on a stone balustrade. The view of the spires was spectacular, even if the dim light made it hard to see too far. Beyond the gas lamps, all was dark, except for those dazzling stars.

‘I like this place.’ He pulled a roll of white paper from his pocket and used a match to light it. ‘Not sure the Rephs even know about it.’

I joined him on the balcony, where the slight glow of the city lit our faces.

‘You found yourself a bolthole quickly,’ I said.

‘Pleione lets me wander. I’ve spent most of this week exploring the city.’

‘Aside from your test.’

‘Yes.’ He blew out smoke. ‘Nashira wanted to know about some criminal, the White Binder. If I will it hard enough, I can sometimes invoke a vision. The æther must have known I really needed something. It sent me a picture of a pillar. I passed it to her.’

‘Did you recognise the pillar?’

‘No.’

I tried not to show my worry. The sundial pillar was very distinctive.

‘Carl was asked to find the same man,’ I said.

‘They can have my visions,’ David said. ‘I’m more concerned about the Buzzers.’ He tapped his cigarette. ‘I spoke to someone who fought them.’

‘A red-jacket?’

‘A former one. She’s a trapeze artist these days, after getting her yellow streak. Her test was ten years ago, so it could be different now.’

‘Tell me anyway.’

His gaze became distant.

‘Gallows Wood is where the second test takes place,’ he said. ‘My informant had to work as a team with three other pink-jackets to track down a Buzzer and herd it back into the Netherworld.’

‘How?’

‘They come through portals.’ He drew on his cigarette. ‘First, a cleromancer made lots from stones. When she cast them, they pointed west, so the group set off. After a while, they’d found nothing, so the cleromancer tried again. With each casting, the lots indicated a new direction. The Buzzer was on the move.

‘The pinks changed tactics. First, the rhabdomancer made a dowsing rod, and that got them a bit closer – but they had been out in the dark woods for hours, in the middle of winter. They stopped to rest, built a fire, and did a séance, calling the nearest spirits to help them.’

I leaned against the balustrade. ‘Are there many out there?’

David nodded. ‘Over all those decades, more than a few people risked the minefield.’

I hid a shiver.

‘As they sat by the fire,’ David continued, ‘the sound of flies came from the woods. And then, out of nowhere, a monster appeared – giant, bloated like a corpse, letting out these horrific screams. It had scalped the rhabdomancer before anyone could so much as flinch.

‘The fire was going out, but my informant could still see it. She watched it rip the cleromancer limb from limb, then behead the medium. All the while, she felt like there was an oil spill in the æther – as if it was congealing around her, stopping her from using her gift. An augur threw a knife at it, but nothing happened.

‘About then, the fire went out. My informant could hear the last of the other voyants screaming. Even though it was dark, she rushed to help. She grabbed the Buzzer, smelled the decay on it. Next thing she knew, she was on her back with a shredded arm.’

I thought of the strange wounds on Warden.

‘Using the last of their fire, she lit a dry branch and warded off the Buzzer,’ David said. ‘She ran for her life. The last thing she heard was her teammate, screaming as he was eaten alive.’

We stood in silence for a while. What a way to go.

‘I think fire repels them, and that’s why she lived,’ David said. ‘She was lost in those woods all night, but made it back at sunrise. They stopped joint testing after that. We’ll be out there alone.’

Now I understood why some of the red-jackets carried flamethrowers. I had a feeling I wouldn’t have one when I took my test.

‘I assume she failed,’ I said.

‘Yes. Her keeper gave her a yellow tunic. She passed the second time, but she lost her nerve twice while she was a red-jacket.’

‘The Rephs are clearly stronger than us. Why send a bunch of puny humans to fight?’

‘Sometimes a keeper does go, apparently, to observe from a distance. They don’t want too many of us to get eaten,’ David said. ‘But keeping us terrified keeps us in line. Why not let a few people die horribly every so often?’

He dropped his cigarette and crushed it out with the toe of his boot.

‘I don’t understand why the Buzzers come here,’ I said. ‘What stops them attacking anywhere else?’

‘They could be drawn to the Rephs.’

‘Why, because they’re from the same world?’

‘No idea. Just guessing.’

I fell silent, grinding my jaw.

‘You’ve got more questions,’ David said. ‘It’s fine. I’ve missed parlour games.’

‘There was an uprising here.’ I glanced at him. ‘Know anything about it?’

‘Yes.’ David nodded towards the door. ‘Let me show you.’

We moved to stand in a small room, where he lit a torch, mounted in an iron bracket on the wall. Its light revealed a stone memorial, surrounded by humble offerings: candle stubs, acorns, dead leaves and straw, and the spidery yellow flowers of a witch hazel.

‘It began on Novembertide,’ David said, his voice low. ‘A group of Rephs hatched a plot to overthrow the Sargas family. Their plan was to destroy Nashira and evacuate all the humans to London.’

I raised my eyebrows. ‘Rephs going against their own?’

Liss had never mentioned that.

‘So the story goes. Since there were so few conspirators, they needed a lot of humans on side,’ he said. ‘But someone betrayed their plans: XVIII-39-7. One weak link, and it all came tumbling down. Nashira had the perpetrators tortured in the House – hence the only name they’re known by now, the scarred ones.’

‘And the humans were killed.’

‘All but Duckett.’

‘Was he the traitor?’

‘No. He hid during the carnage, then pleaded for his life. Other than him, rumour has it there were two others – the traitor, and a child.’

‘Why would Scion send children here?’

‘Easier to brainwash. That new polyglot can’t be more than twelve,’ David said. ‘Duckett swears the child lived, too. He was the one who cleaned up the corpses – one of the grisly terms of his survival.’

‘But the Buzzers eat flesh.’

‘Not the shoulder, apparently.’ David tapped the spot where he was branded. ‘Duckett claims he never found the girl. But this says otherwise.’

He crouched beside one of the offerings. A stuffed toy, limp and dirty, with buttons for eyes. Around its neck was a note. I picked it up and held it to the light.

XVIII-39-0

‘Those flowers look fresh,’ I murmured.

‘Probably the harlies,’ David said. ‘I doubt the Rephs involved are still here.’

A deep hush descended. I laid the toy back among the flowers.

‘I think I’ve seen enough,’ I said.

David walked me back to Magdalen. There were several hours left until dawn, but the training had taken a heavy toll, and all those stairs had put my body through the wringer. I needed to sleep.

When we reached the door to the Porters’ Lodge, I turned to David. The lanterns cast a strong light on his face, revealing freckles.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘For the information. And for showing me the memorial.’

‘Just keep it to yourself. A gift from a fellow jumper.’ He gave me a calm look. ‘I’ll give you one more question. If I can answer it, I will.’

I thought about it. ‘Out of curiosity, why are they called Bone Seasons?’

‘Ah.’ He leaned against the wall. ‘Well, one meaning is obvious, but the word bone used to be thieves’ slang for something good or prosperous – from the French, bonne. For the Rephs, it’s the Good Season, the Season of Prospect. Of course, we see it the other way.’

‘And you learned all this in a few days.’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘You’re good.’

‘I know.’ He gave me a brief smile. ‘I should get back to Merton.’

A strange instinct was rising in me. I watched him start to walk away.

David clearly knew the value of a secret, just as I did. I had pocketed my fair share this week, but nothing like what this man had up his sleeve. He had shared them with a stranger, apparently for nothing.

And secrets were like coin. They could be counterfeited, laundered. Debts could be claimed later, when you had no way to pay.

‘You could have lied to me about all this,’ I said. He stopped. ‘How do I know you haven’t?’

‘I have no reason to lie to you,’ David said. ‘You’ll just have to trust me.’

‘I’m not sure I do.’ I sauntered up to him. ‘Less than a week, and you’ve uncovered a secret not even my contact knew. You clearly got it from Duckett, an eyewitness – but he gives nothing away for nothing. What favours are you doing him in return?’

‘Let’s just say I’m good at finding things. And getting people talking.’

‘Yes, like your new friend Beltrame. If he likes us both the same, he has a funny way of showing it,’ I said. ‘He invited me to dance, to debase myself. But you got a fancy dinner in Kettell Hall.’

‘Drop it, Paige,’ David said quietly. ‘Just take the knowledge.’

‘In exchange for what?’

‘I told you. It’s a gift.’

His face and voice were getting stiffer. I was on to something.

‘You must have agreed to do something big for Duckett. You wouldn’t just share a secret like that,’ I said. ‘Not unless it served you.’

‘Paige, I don’t blame you for being cynical, but I’m just trying to help.’

‘Duckett is interested in my keeper. Maybe he asked you to get him some inside knowledge.’ I moved closer. ‘I could inform the Warden that I think you’re trying to spy on him. I’m sure he’d be very grateful. Or you could just tell me why you’ve taken such an interest, David.’

David clenched his jaw. His throat worked, and he took a deep breath.

‘You’re overthinking this,’ he said. ‘I wanted to build trust, but not because I want to spy on you.’

‘What, then?’

In answer, he took a step forward and cupped my elbow. His aura washed against mine.

‘I would have liked to be subtler,’ he said. ‘This place is going to grind us down, Paige. I’m here if you ever want company.’

His eyes were so close, I could see my reflection in them. I looked exactly as nonplussed as I felt. When I realised what he meant, I pursed my lips.

‘Did you just tell me all that,’ I said coolly, ‘on the off-chance that I might want to meet up for a ride at some point, David?’

‘I wouldn’t have brought it up like this.’

‘Thank you, but I’m fine.’ I folded my arms, brushing off his hand. ‘If that’s something you want, you should ask someone else.’

‘I will. See you around, Paige.’

He left without a backward glance. I watched him disappear into Rose Lane before I knocked on the door to the Porters’ Lodge.

Gail let me in. ‘You’re back very early. I’ll come up to light the fire when I’m free.’ She clocked my face. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Fine,’ I muttered. ‘Just dealing with the local joker.’

‘What?’

I marched across the courtyard without answering, slowing halfway when my leg protested.

Nobody had their head on straight here. First Duckett and his bizarre remarks about Warden, and now David. My face burned.

He really could have shared those secrets just to tug my heartstrings. If so, I couldn’t blame myself for not anticipating it. By and large, Eliza was the one who got that sort of interest, not me.

But something about the whole thing did feel strange. My instincts were rarely wrong, and before I had doubted and pushed him, David had barely spared me a glance. The change had been jarring. He had also looked faintly relieved when I turned him down.

Whatever his motive, I would investigate his claims. His revelation about the scarred ones was the most significant, but even if it was true, it might not help. Any rebellious Rephs would have been expelled from the city, if not executed.

In the Founders Tower, I found no sign of Warden. I rinsed the green pill away, took the others. I knew better than to use his bath, but I seized the opportunity to steal hot water from his sink.

In the attic, I made a reckless attempt to wash my hair with soap. As I fought to untangle it, I searched for the source of the draught, to no avail. I collapsed back into bed, defeated.

I really wanted my old life back.

Over the next fortnight, I fell into something like a routine. The training had done such a number on me, I could barely muster the will to go up and down the stairs to the attic, but I still went to the Rookery every other night, to check on Liss and Julian.

On the nights I stayed in Magdalen, I explored its unlocked rooms. I found an icehouse, a dining hall, a library of books written in French and Greek. A small grove lay just north of the lawns; I spotted a herd of deer from a distance.

After years in central London, this silent place disquieted me. Magdalen was a beautiful shell, abandoned even by its ghosts. If I stopped inside it, it felt as if nothing else could be moving. Gail saw me off whenever I left, but in two weeks, I didn’t see either of the other residents, whose names were Michael and Fazal. We were like figures in a dollhouse, all in different rooms.

Warden barely returned in that fortnight. When he did, I was always in the attic. Sometimes I could sense him elsewhere in the residence.

He must have told someone to feed me. Every time I woke, fresh bread or a bowl of porridge waited in the parlour, along with a tiny cup of medicine for my leg. Those morsels of food only deepened my hunger. One night, I took a lamp to the dining hall and walked between its long tables, imagining them piled high with a feast.

I was becoming part of Magdalen.

For all I wanted to escape, it had accepted me.

On the second of April, thick fog swathed the city again, blurring the gaslight. As usual, I went out, my pockets rattling with numa.

In the Rookery, I traded a pair of scratched dice for toke. Julian was training, while Liss had been summoned to perform at the Fell Theatre. I sat on a bench in Radcliffe Square and bit into the stale bread.

As I sat there, I watched David pass, engaged in conversation with the Overseer. He was definitely off my list of potential allies.

Fortunately, neither of them saw me. Once I had finished the toke, I returned to Magdalen, heading straight for the Founders Tower. I expected to find it empty.

What I found was blood.