Possession

POSSESSION

Weeks passed in the lost city. Still there was no thaw. Every few days, I trained with Warden on Port Meadow. Each time, I was able to project my spirit. Each time left me drained and shivering.

Warden kept his word. Rather than goading my gift out of me again, he was patient and measured in his approach. Between sessions, he let me take whatever time I needed to recoup, following my lead. Only when I was ready did he take me for another session.

It soon became apparent that the more physical discomfort I was in, the harder it was to dreamwalk. He taught me to detach my thoughts from my body, so it was easier for my spirit to slip away from it; how to shut out the hunger, the cold. The groundwork involved a lot of breathing and sitting, but that was fine by me.

Each time we trained, at least one Reph observed us. I tried not to notice.

As promised, Warden set up a small gym for me. When I wasn’t in there, I was on the training grounds, running laps with the other pink-jackets, sticking with Julian. Merope was merciless.

In the meantime, I did some research on Warden, or tried. None of the performers I knew could guess what concubine meant.

‘The Rephs do use odd words sometimes,’ Cyril said, adjusting his old glasses. ‘They have their own language. I’m not sure certain things translate exactly, so they use whatever fits best.’

Guy grunted. ‘They talk like monarchs.’ He was roasting a perch over the cookfire. ‘Your keeper most of all, Paige.’

‘I noticed,’ I said. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard their language.’

‘They only speak it among themselves.’

I finally decided to comb the Founders Tower. Despite the amount of reading he did, Warden didn’t seem to store his books in his own quarters. After giving up on the parlour, I found a modest stack in his nightstand, including A Dictionary of the Republic of England. Leafing to the right section, I found no trace of the word I needed.

The sound of footsteps had me shoving the dictionary back into place. Michael came in with a sling of firewood. I hitched up a smile and gave him a hand.

Liss kept on with her training as well. Most nights she was at the Fell Theatre or the Camera, preparing for the Bicentenary. Though our paths often crossed in Radcliffe Square, she was usually too exhausted to speak. I left food in her shack whenever I could.

The Overseer gave her the occasional week off. One night found us washing clothes and bedding – a hard job here, done by hand with lye. I sat down by a fire and mucked in with the performers.

In the spring, they did their laundry by a stream near the Detainment Facility, the Sleepwash. It stemmed from a river that flowed through Gallows Wood, which they called the Acheron – but I had a gut feeling that it was, in fact, the Thames.

Naturally, I had sketched a plan to build a boat, only to find out that someone had already tried it. According to Nell, their body had floated down the Sleepwash a few days later, riddled with bullets.

That was all the proof I needed that the city had a defensive wall around it. Even I wasn’t fool enough to think I could get past that. Scion would have spared no expense to keep its secret contained.

As I scrubbed a shirt over a washboard, I glanced at the stars and thought of London. Jaxon must still be raging over the loss of his dreamwalker. I might have given up on the idea of a dramatic rescue, but I still hoped Nick would come across a breadcrumb. If not, Danica might be able to access my arrest record.

The Sleepwash was frozen for some of the year, but now it was spring, it was thawing at last. Some way upstream, a few people bathed in the icy water. The Rephs seemed to tolerate this event, but they watched us.

‘Thanks for your help,’ Liss said to me. ‘I miss washing machines.’

She had let her ringlets fall out, so her black hair swept down her back. Her feet were bruised from the silks, one of which she was rinsing.

My clothes were cleaned and pressed for me. I had found a scullery while I was exploring, complete with a mangle, a flat iron, and other tools. Michael seemed to deal with that sort of thing, while Gail maintained the buildings and Fazal did the gardening.

‘Jos,’ Liss called. The polyglot looked up from his washboard. ‘That’s enough, now.’

‘I want to help,’ Jos said. ‘I can do it, Liss.’

‘Not until it has a good soak in the bucking tub.’

She held out a hand. Jos brought her the shirt, and she placed it in her own basket.

‘Thank you,’ she said, and gave him a splash. He ducked away with a laugh. ‘Go on, away to the Rookery. Get the skilly while it’s hot.’

‘Okay.’

Liss smiled and went back to cleaning her silks.

Everyone here loved her. If this were London, Jaxon wouldn’t have spared her a glance.

On the Meritshad changed the underworld. Not just changed it, but revolutionised it. Before its publication, voyants had never really been categorised – not in London, at least.

His radical ideas had spread like a plague. Factions and rivalries had formed; street wars had broken out. Appalled by the violence, the Spiritus Club – his publisher – had withdrawn the pamphlet from circulation, and Jaxon had formally renounced the hierarchy, stating that all voyants stood on equal footing against Scion.

Still, the grudges had lingered; the orders had stuck. Everyone used his names for their gifts. Jaxon had even coined the word dreamwalker.

‘You look deep in thought,’ Liss said, snapping me out of it.

I forced a smile. ‘Just thinking of London.’

‘Ah.’

Her friendship was keeping my head above water. Even if the deception churned my stomach, I would keep my past to myself, for now.

‘Jules tells me you’ve been training hard,’ Liss said. ‘Merope has a reputation.’

‘Don’t they all.’ I wiped my brow. ‘All I’ve heard about the second test is that Buzzers are involved. Do you know anything else?’

‘No. You’re meant to be unprepared, so everyone who takes it is sworn to secrecy.’ She drew the silk from the water. ‘I’d expect it any day. Just in case it comes as a surprise.’

‘Warden doesn’t strike me as the spontaneous sort,’ I said, wringing a shirt.

‘Never think you can predict them, Paige.’ Liss did the same to her silk. ‘Remember – they might look like us, but they’re nothing like us. Do not let your guard down.’

Suhail observed us from the Detainment Facility, standing beside Aludra. For once, I played it safe. I kept my head down and my gaze on the ground.

Late in May, Warden proved Liss right. He took me by surprise. When I came down from the attic, ready to train, he presented me with a black coat.

‘I thought you didn’t issue these in the spring,’ I said. ‘It’s nearly June.’

‘You have done well in your training.’

‘Well, thank you for the treat.’ I pulled it on and buttoned it up. The lining was thick and warm. ‘You’ll go harder on me now, won’t you?’

‘In a manner of speaking.’

His posture seemed different, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on how. He secured his cloak and reached into his doublet.

‘Gail tells me the leak in the attic was a sign of a more serious problem. The roof needs extensive repairs,’ he said. ‘While she carries out this work, you may return to sleeping on the daybed.’

Once I might have chafed at the idea of sharing his quarters again, but the attic was still uncomfortably cold. This way, I could sleep by the fire.

‘All right,’ I said.

‘There is another matter.’ Warden held out a familiar green pill. ‘I know you have not been taking these, Paige.’

‘Do you, now?’

‘Yes. Have you been disposing of them, or selling them to Duckett?’

‘If you want me to take that pill, you’ll tell me what it’s for. No one else gets it.’

‘You are not them.’

‘What are you going to do, personally force it down my throat?’

He tucked it into a silver pillbox, eyes flaring. ‘I will give you time to reconsider,’ he said, returning it to his doublet. ‘For now, follow me.’

Michael waited for us in the cloisters. He handed an iron lantern to Warden.

‘Hello, Michael,’ I said. ‘How are you?’

He gave me a brief smile and a nod. I had yet to hear him utter a word.

Warden led me to the gate east of the lawn. ‘We are not going to Port Meadow,’ he said, taking a key from his belt. ‘This is Water Walk, my private retreat. From here, we will go some way beyond the lamplight.’

‘Why?’

‘You have proven yourself capable of leaving your body, but you will not improve if we repeat the same exercises. I wish to try a new approach.’

Water Walk was lit by nothing but the moon and stars. The darkness thickened as we lost the faint torchlight from Magdalen.

In spite of myself, I stayed close to Warden. The Rephs might send humans to do their dirty work for them, but he was the one with the track record of surviving the Buzzers. He led me off the path, over a rotten bridge, then strode into a tangle of wet undergrowth, leaving me to trudge in his wake, up to my knees in weeds.

‘Warden,’ I said, ‘how far are we going?’

He ignored me.

My boots and socks were already sodden. He was taking me into the untamed meadows behind the residence, which were cradled by the River Cherwell. They were called the Fields of Mercy, since they stood between the lamplight and Gallows Wood.

Warden clearly wasn’t feeling merciful today.

‘You’re pissed off about the pill,’ I guessed, fighting to catch up with him. His legs came all the way up to my waist. ‘Just tell me what it is.’

‘It is necessary,’ Warden said.

‘Oh, catch yourself on. I managed without it before I had the misfortune of meeting you,’ I bit out. ‘Would you kindly slow down?’

He deigned to stop. I caught up after a few moments, breathless.

‘You win.’ I held out a hand. ‘Give me the pill.’

Warden regarded me. ‘What changed your mind?’

‘You’re clearly in a foul mood. I don’t want you taking it out on me.’

In the silence that followed, he seemed to weigh my sincerity, then removed a tablet from his pillbox. I washed it down with a swig from the hip flask he offered, taking another sip for the bitterness.

‘There.’ I thrust it at his chest. ‘I’d ask if you were happy, but I doubt it.’

Warden took it and kept walking. ‘Do you think me incapable of joy?’

‘Since you have one facial expression and one tone of voice, I really can’t tell.’

‘Perhaps you lack perspicacity.’

‘Perhaps you lack a personality.’ (I neither knew nor cared what perspicacity meant.) ‘If you ever do learn to imitate joy, I’ll thank you to not show it anywhere near me. I can’t imagine you get your kicks from anything pleasant.’

‘You need not trouble yourself,’ Warden said coldly. ‘At present, I can imagine no circumstance in which I would feel any joy around you.’

‘I take that as a compliment.’

‘Good.’

He really was out of sorts, stooping to petty jabs with a human. I found I liked being a thorn in his side.

We kept going for what seemed like hours, though he did me the honour of walking at my pace. Thanks to the coat, I was snug enough, though I wished I had gloves as well, and my boots were still leaking.

When Warden stopped, I almost walked into him. Ahead of us, a small log shelter stood among the weeds. He opened its door and held up his lantern. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

In the shelter, a deer – a doe, specifically – was tethered to a post. As soon as she saw Warden, she flicked her tail and long ears.

‘That ... isn’t quite what I was expecting,’ I admitted.

‘May I ask what you were expecting?’

‘Just about anything but a deer.’

‘This is Fionnuala,’ Warden said. ‘Nuala, for short.’

‘That’s an Irish name,’ I said, after a pause. It meant white shoulder. ‘Gaeilge is outlawed in Scion. Why would you call her that?’

‘For its beauty.’

Warden released the worn collar from around her neck. Nuala butted him with her nose. I waited for her to bolt, but she just stood there, gazing at him. When I noticed the white patches on either side of her neck, I had to smile.

He spoke to her in an unfamiliar language, stroking her throat. She was mesmerised. As I listened to his voice, something in me hummed in answer.

A few months ago, I might have found it strange to see a giant and his adoring deer. Now it was just another night in Oxford.

‘She has a penchant for apples,’ Warden told me. ‘You may feed her, if you wish.’

When I nodded, he tossed me a green apple, which I barely managed to catch. ‘Did you just … produce an apple from nowhere?’

‘Perhaps.’

Nuala turned her gaze on me, nose twitching.

‘Gently,’ Warden said.

I took a game step forward and held out the apple. Nuala gave it a few delicate sniffs. Warden spoke to her, and she snatched it.

‘Forgive her.’ He patted her neck. ‘We have yet to refine her manners.’

‘I see yours are coming back.’

‘Hm.’

It wasn’t an apology, but I decided to let it go. Nuala gave my hand a lick.

‘She’s beautiful.’ I stroked her. ‘Why isn’t she at Magdalen?’

‘Animals are only permitted in the city as livestock. The fallow deer at Magdalen are reared for venison and buckskin. To spare her that fate, I brought her to these fields.’

‘Dare I ask why you saved a random deer?’

‘For company. And for you.’

I smiled thinly. ‘Is this your way of telling me that I need to be tamed?’

‘Not at all.’

Warden walked back outside, letting Nuala run towards the River Cherwell. He sat on the crumbled remains of a wall, facing me.

‘You are a dreamwalker,’ he said. ‘What does that mean to you?’

‘We’ve been over this several times, Warden.’

‘Indulge me.’

I sighed. ‘I can sense the æther for about a mile outside myself.’

‘Yes. That is your foundation, your starting point – a heightened sensitivity that even Rephaim do not possess,’ Warden said. ‘Your silver cord is flexible, allowing you to dislocate your spirit from the middle of your dreamscape – an act that widens your perception.’

‘Yes.’

‘Perhaps, before you even knew what you were, you could hurt people. Perhaps you could put pressure on their dreamscapes, causing nosebleeds and headaches.’

I frowned. ‘How could you possibly know that?’

‘I am entertaining a theory.’ Warden held my gaze. ‘Something changed on the train. No doubt you feared you would be executed. For the first time in your life, that power inside you broke into the world.’

‘So it did.’ I perched on the wall, keeping my distance. ‘Did you suspect before I even arrived?’

‘Nashira received an urgent report that an Underguard had been killed – bloodlessly, without a single mark on his body. She knew it must be the work of a dreamwalker,’ Warden said. ‘What is the next stage of your gift?’

‘Leaving my body,’ I said. ‘I can push my spirit into the æther without my cord breaking.’

‘And the next?’

I said nothing.

‘You forced your spirit into Aludra. You have done the same to me. Even when you fail to break into a dreamscape, you can collide with it,’ Warden said. ‘What is your intention?’

‘I don’t always have one. It just happens,’ I said. ‘In that case, I was trying to hurt Aludra.’

‘And when you enter a dreamscape, where do you instinctively aim?’

‘The sunlit zone.’

‘Indeed. The seat of the spirit. What could happen if you reached it?’

There was a tense silence, broken only by the reedy screech of an owl. I turned away to look at the moon, which sat in a smoking cup of cloud.

‘You’re talking about usurping a spirit,’ I finally said. ‘About … possession.’

‘Yes.’

My unproven ability. A theory.

Jaxon had broached the subject not long after I started working for him. He had invited me to propel my spirit into his dreamscape, to see if I could take control of his body. The idea had shaken me. At the time, I had barely known how to broaden my perception of the æther. Nick had stopped him asking me again, but only for a while.

Maybe I could have done it. Maybe I could have seized his body and stubbed out that wretched cigar – but it frightened me, that I had that potential. Even with the promise of a pay rise, I had been too afraid to try.

‘I’ve never done it,’ I said. ‘You can’t make me do it, either, regardless of our agreement.’

‘It would be a formidable weapon,’ Warden said.

‘Let’s say I can learn. You think I want to hand that sort of power to Nashira?’

‘You agreed to practise with me in good faith. Do not do it for her, but for yourself.’

‘I won’t be able to possess you. Reph dreamscapes are too strong,’ I said. ‘So far, I’ve caught you all by surprise, and you all slammed me back out.’

‘I do not expect you to possess me.’

‘What, then?’

Warden looked across the field. I followed his line of sight. The doe took a long drink from the river, then scuffed a hoof against some flowers.

‘Nuala,’ I said.

‘Yes.’

I rarely dealt with animal dreamscapes. When I had joined the syndicate, the challenge had been tuning them out. In the early days of scouting for Jaxon, they had been an overwhelming distraction: the birds flying over the citadel, the rats scurrying in its sewers, the insects.

It might not even be possible for me to fit my human spirit into an animal dreamscape. It might drive me to insanity, or hurt the deer, or both. Would she be able to resist my infiltration, or let me straight in?

‘I don’t know,’ I said, after a moment. ‘She might be too big to control.’

Warden rose. ‘I will find something else.’

‘I hate to keep reminding you that I don’t have an oxygen supply, but I’m going to do it again.’ I stood as well. ‘I’ve never even tried to possess anyone. We have no idea what it will do to me.’

‘So far, your heart is coping,’ he said, even as he walked away. ‘Our training sessions would have killed other humans, but your body seems built to handle your gift.’

‘You’re still gambling with my life.’

‘I will not allow you to leave your body for long.’

‘Nashira really has ruffled your feathers.’ I strode after him. ‘Hey, if you insist on doing this, you realise she could possess you. You’d trust her with your body when you can’t even tell her you’re fighting the Buzzers?’

He turned to face me. I stopped, arms folded.

‘There are reasons,’ he said. ‘Only trust that I want you to reach your full potential.’

I held that flaming gaze, trying to read him. Their faces really did ward off emotional guesswork.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘An insect or a rodent, then. Or a bird.’

Warden gave another nod and left, pursued by a deer. I waited for him by the broken wall.

Nuala wandered back after a while. By then, a deep chill had set in. My breath came in clouds as I huddled against the wall, rubbing my raw hands together.

‘Hello,’ I said. ‘Did your apple dealer get lost, Nuala?’

She looked hard at me, then folded herself down like a clothes rack.

‘Oh, are you joining me?’

Nuala laid her head in my lap with a huff. As I stroked her velvety ears, I tried to imagine being this deer – running on four legs, living wild in the night.

Scion had done all it could to beat the wildness from me. Perhaps that was the reason I worked for Jaxon. Not just to belong, but to bask in my freedom.

Nuala closed her eyes, content. After a pause, I tested the water. I leaned against the wall before I dislocated, letting my awareness drift.

The dreamscape next to mine was thin and fragile as a bubble. Humans could build layers of resistance – as they aged, or as life callused them – but animals lacked that emotional armour.

I gave her dreamscape the lightest of nudges.

Nuala let out a snort of alarm. I shushed her, feeling a twinge of guilt.

‘It’s okay.’ I stroked her neck. ‘I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.’

The deer tucked her head back into my lap, but she was quivering. She had no idea it was me who had hurt her.

By the time Warden returned, I was still against the most uncomfortable wall in the world, warmed by Nuala. She blinked up at him.

‘You took your time,’ I said. ‘Did you go to Edinburgh?’

‘Not quite. I have found you a host.’

He sat on the wall. Nuala let me up, and I joined him. His skin had more of a sheen by moonlight.

His gloved hands were cupped. When he opened them a little, I looked down to see a pale butterfly, or a moth. It was strange to see hands of such strength used so gently.

‘A common brimstone,’ he said. ‘They rest among the leaves at night.’ He raised his gaze to mine. ‘Are you willing to attempt a possession?’

‘I can try.’

His eyes glowed hot as coals. With one hand, he unclasped his cloak and spread it on the ground for me. After a long moment, I lay down on it.

As I got myself settled, he sat beside me, still holding the butterfly. It always bothered me, to have to leave my body vulnerable.

Warden glanced at me. His eyes were usually like dying embers. Tonight, they were bright enough to cast a slight glow on his cheekbones.

‘I will keep watch,’ he said.

With a nod, I closed my eyes and took deep, slow breaths. Little by little, I relaxed my body, releasing the tension I stored in my jaw and neck, tuning out the chill. Once I felt as if I could float, I withdrew into my dreamscape and walked my spirit to the edge of the poppy field, where it was darkest. The æther waited just ahead.

I jumped. For the first time, I imagined my silver cord as a harness, keeping me safe.

The butterfly was a grain of salt beside the marble that was Warden. I slid into its dreamscape. There was no reactive jerk, no sudden panic from my host.

I found myself in a world of dreams – a world of stained glass, each splinter aglow. The butterfly spent its days among flowers, and all of their colours had fashioned its haven. Since they weren’t voyant, I had thought animals would be like amaurotics, with grey dreamscapes. This kaleidoscope was unexpected.

Rephs had expansive minds, from what little I had seen of them, but here, each step took me into a new ring: hadal, abyssal, midnight, twilight. Even without a mouth, I could feel myself smiling. My spirit longed to walk like this, in strange lands. It had wanderlust.

I was formless here; I saw only a blur when I looked down. When I came to the sunlit zone, I spied a tiny spirit. As I approached, it skittered away.

Now for the real test. If Jaxon had worked this out correctly, stepping on to the right spot would allow me to take control of this body.

As soon as I entered the circle, the sunlight brightened, blinding me. The dream world shattered like a diamond, glinting with rainbows.

For a moment, there was nothing.

Then I was in a private hell.

Panic registered first. My arms and legs had disappeared. I was crushed by my own body, screaming with no lips or voice. When I tried to breathe, nothing happened. When I tried to move, something gave a spasm, as if I were in my death throes.

I had to get out. With a heroic pull, I threw myself clean out of the dreamscape and back into my body. I snapped upright, gasping in panic.

‘Paige?’

‘Fuck.’ I touched my face. ‘Never again.’

‘You are safe,’ Warden said, his tone steady. ‘Tell me what happened.’

‘I did it.’ I wrenched my coat open, my chest heaving. My heart was boxing at my ribs, protesting the latest insult. ‘I’m not meant to be in that sort of body. I don’t … know how to exist as a … butterfly. Do they even have lungs?’

‘No.’

‘Fuck,’ I said again. ‘That was stupid. I could have forgotten how to get out.’

It took me a while to collect myself. I blinked away stars, my head pounding. When Warden offered me his flask, I took a few delicate sips. I had almost thrown up on his polished boots last time we trained.

‘I apologise,’ Warden said, his voice low. ‘For my lack of patience with you, and for my carelessness. I should not have made you do this.’

His second apology. My retort died on my lips, blunted by confusion.

‘No,’ I said, looking away. ‘You shouldn’t have.’ I held my own arms. ‘I won’t possess an animal again. You can punish me all you like. I don’t care.’

‘You will not be punished. I gave you my word.’

‘Good.’ I moved to lean against the wall. ‘How long did I last?’

‘It was your first possession. I saw you move its wings.’

‘How long, Warden?’

‘A few moments.’

I huffed. Jaxon would have cracked a rib laughing. ‘Is that what my second test will be like?’

‘No, but it proves how far you have come. You are ready to try for your red tunic.’ Warden opened his hand, and the butterfly fled into the dark. (At least I had managed not to kill it.) ‘Can you stand?’

My knees were shaking. Seeing the state of me, he lifted me into his arms. I didn’t protest. It really took it out of you, puppeteering the fauna.

Warden carried me into the dark. Above me, his eyes were the only light.

Magdalen soon appeared before us, lit by its lamps and flaming torches. How dark the world looked in the shadows beyond it; how warm and inviting the light in its windows, glowing as if to beckon us home.