Moment of Truth

MOMENT OF TRUTH

Magdalen was an ancient building. According to Gail, the former college had been founded in 1458, centuries before Scion. For several hours, I sat in its hold, flinching each time its bells rang the hour.

Warden had taken me back to the Founders Tower, then returned to the Rookery. He had said nothing to me – no reproach, no threat of punishment.

Michael kept checking on me. At three in the morning, he presented me with a bowl of baked chestnuts, with cracked brown shells and velvety white insides, reminding me of midwinters in London. My favourite vendor sold them at the end of Lambeth Bridge.

Half an hour later, Michael brought a cup of sugary tea. I stirred from a doze.

‘Thank you.’ I took it with my good hand. ‘Any time for a break, Michael?’

He shook his head with an apologetic smile.

‘It’s okay. I know you’re busy.’ I smiled back. ‘Don’t let me keep you.’

Michael had already taken my clothes for laundering. I was huddled on the daybed in a spare undershirt, a heavy mantle covering my bare legs.

Warden returned at sunrise. I watched him remove his cloak and jerkin.

‘The Rookery is badly damaged,’ he said. ‘Since the performers need their strength for the Bicentenary, they will be allowed to sleep in the Old Library.’

‘Right.’ I rubbed my temples. ‘Shit.’

‘What is it?’

‘I broke into the Old Library. Anyone who checks the door will notice.’

‘I had the padlock replaced several weeks ago,’ Warden said. My brow creased. ‘The day you missed the curfew, you could only have been out of bounds. I checked all of the sealed buildings for weaknesses.’

I nodded slowly, even as I questioned why I had told him so readily.

With a padlock back on the door, Julian wouldn’t have been able to hide Liss. Not that we could have concealed her condition for long. As soon as she failed to appear for training, Beltrame would have overturned the whole city in search of her.

‘The Rookery,’ I said. ‘Will it be repaired?’

‘No,’ Warden said quietly. ‘After the Bicentenary, the performers will be evicted from the Old Library.’

The implication hung between us. The Bicentenary would take place in early autumn. By then, the killing cold might already be closing in.

‘To protect the performers before the Bicentenary, no jacketed humans may visit,’ he said. ‘As for your attackers, they are forbidden to approach you without supervision.’

‘I told you they would come after me.’

‘Yes.’

Warden approached the daybed. Flakes of ash were caught in his hair.

‘May I see your injury?’

After a pause, I gave him a small nod.

He used his knuckle to lift my chin, brushing my hair behind my ear. Kath had left a graceless cut between its upper shell and my temple.

His touch raised an unexpected chill. It was the gentlest and most intimate I had experienced in a while, softened by the worn leather of his glove. I held still, my knees pressed together, heart beating too hard.

‘Michael cleaned it,’ I said. ‘It’s fine.’

‘Hm.’ He released me. ‘You appear to have treated your wrist.’

The dirty poultice was still wrapped around it. The reminder tightened my throat.

‘It’s comfrey,’ I whispered.

‘Who gave it to you?’

‘Liss, one of the aerialists.’ I looked up at him. ‘The red-jackets ambushed me at her place. Can I really not go out there to check on her?’

‘Even if I could allow it, I think it best that you keep to this residence as much as possible from now on. As you rightly said, I cannot be everywhere. In Magdalen, you are under my protection.’

I swallowed.

Liss had looked at me with the beginnings of betrayal. If she died, I would never be able to explain. It would be the last thing I had ever told her.

Warden sat in his chair and poured himself a generous amount of red wine. ‘The summer feast will take place in a week,’ he said. ‘Until then, you should recover your strength. You have had a strenuous few days, Paige.’

‘What about training?’

‘You will no longer be training with Merope. Since your position with me has made you a target, I have asked Nashira if I may continue your instruction here, rather than on Port Meadow. I am confident she will agree to this for your safety, if only for the rest of the month.’

Our training sessions had always been watched. Without those eyes on us, Nashira would have no idea of my progress.

‘I will try to secure another splint for your wrist,’ Warden said, seeing the protective way I was cradling it. ‘I assume you lost it in the Rookery.’

‘Yes.’ It was even more swollen. ‘Kath … gave it a pretty good twist.’

‘Her death was unnecessary.’

‘Who is her keeper?’

‘Kraz Sargas, one of the blood-heirs. There are always two – a male and a female, to mirror the blood-sovereigns,’ Warden said. ‘Should anything befall Gomeisa, Kraz would be his successor.’

‘You told me you were deathless,’ I said. ‘Why the need for heirs, if so?’

‘We cannot die of old age, but we are not invulnerable.’

‘On that subject, I can’t get any sense of your age.’

‘From a human perspective, I do not know. We are never young, and do not grow old. I was there at the founding of the Republic of Scion.’

It took a moment to sink in.

‘If Kraz had forced us to fight,’ I finally said, ‘would you have been able to stop him?’

Warden looked into the fire. I studied his face, seeking any sign of what he might be thinking.

‘No,’ he said. ‘He is of the blood. Despite my conjugal title, I am not.’

He reached for his goblet. Perhaps I was shaken by the events of the night, but a sudden boldness filled me – something that felt dangerous.

‘You drink a lot of amaranth,’ I said. ‘You said it was for old wounds.’

‘I do not believe my health concerns are any of yours, Paige.’

‘You said you wanted mutual trust. Can’t we be honest with each other?’

‘I gave you that opportunity,’ Warden said. ‘You are no pickpocket, Paige Mahoney. Until you tell the truth, I will withhold mine.’

Before I could answer, he stood and left, taking his goblet with him. The door closed in his wake, and I was left to wonder how he could be so sure.

For the next few days, I kept to Magdalen. Left to my own devices, I went for long jogs in the grounds, trying to keep my mind off Liss.

Within the halls of Magdalen, nobody observed the curfew. It gave me a chance to soak up the sun. I even dared to climb the steps of the bell tower. At the top, I looked across the misty rooftops, towards the Vault.

David had told me about the scarred ones – the Rephs who had organised the doomed rebellion. Warden took medicine for old wounds.

Arcturus Mesarthim could not be a former rebel. Nashira would never have kept him around, let alone chosen him as her consort. I shouldn’t even be entertaining the idea, but whatever concubine meant, it was an insult. He acted without her knowledge. He was gentle with humans.

At noon, I went to see the day porter, Fazal. I found him pruning the ivy.

‘Faz.’ I stopped beside him. ‘Do you ever visit the Broad?’

‘Not by choice.’ Fazal raised a dark eyebrow. ‘Why?’

‘I can’t go there. If you do pass it, could you ask after the aerialist, Liss?’

Fazal shook his head. ‘An amaurotic can’t get involved,’ he said. ‘Warden keeps us safe in Magdalen. I won’t risk my position here, Paige.’

‘I understand.’

I really did. Just as I started to leave, he said, ‘I’ll ask Gail. She’s helping to clear the Rookery.’

‘Thank you.’

On the night of the feast, I was permitted to wash again. I was barely out of the bath when Gail used her spare key to enter the parlour.

‘Gail,’ I said, surprised.

‘I won’t stay.’ She set down a pair of scissors and a comb. ‘Just bringing this for your hair. You’re expected to look presentable for a feast.’

‘Right.’ I touched it. ‘Faz said you’ve been working on the Broad.’

‘Liss is in spirit shock. The Overseer has convinced Nashira to let her fight through it, or try.’ Gail folded her sinewy arms. ‘Let’s hope she’s strong. I can’t imagine the pain of that loss.’

Her own favoured numen was a stone she kept in a locked drawer in the Porters’ Lodge. When she left, I gazed out of the window.

Spirit shock could last for days or a few weeks. Even if Liss pulled through, she would never read the cards again. She would no longer be voyant.

To distract myself, I combed my hair as best I could, then gave it a trim. It had grown a fair amount. I favoured a bob, but now I kept it long enough to pull into a bun. A stray curl in my eyes could be fatal here.

Gail soon came back for the scissors. I reluctantly handed them over.

Warden took me to the feast himself. I chafed at having to be escorted such a short way, but I knew he was doing it for my sake. The new moon had darkened the city, giving plenty of cover for ambushes.

‘You must be nervous,’ I said.

‘How so?’

‘Nashira is probably about to question me. I could tell her anything.’ I kept my voice low. ‘Even if I have no proof, I think she might be interested.’

Warden looked straight ahead. His eyes were a little greener than usual.

The stars twinkled above the city, making me feel even smaller beside him. When we reached the Residence of the Suzerain, Warden turned to me.

‘Terebell will escort you back to Magdalen.’ His voice was quiet. ‘Do whatever you think best, Paige.’

The gates opened. I stepped inside, shooting him a last glance over my shoulder.

The Residence of the Suzerain seemed even darker and more ominous than it had on the night of the oration. I wondered how many humans had passed through its halls. Alsafi and Suhail flanked me all the way. Even though I had passed my second test, I still wore pink.

‘You will treat the blood-sovereign with respect,’ Alsafi said to me. ‘None of your usual impertinence, 40.’

Suhail gave me a shove. I clenched my jaw, knowing better than to retort.

They led me to an intimate dining hall, lit by candles and a fire. Their flickering light cast odd shadows on the ribbed plaster vaulting overhead. The walls were panelled up to a point, becoming pale stone.

A long table ran down the middle of the room. At the head of this polished table, seated in an upholstered chair, was the Suzerain.

Nashira Sargas sat like a carving, gloved hands folded in front of her. She wore her usual black, her livery collar reflecting the amber glow.

‘Good evening, 40.’

I nodded.

‘Suhail,’ Nashira said, ‘wait for the others. Alsafi, stay here.’

‘Yes, blood-sovereign.’ Suhail lowered his head to my level. ‘I do hope Arcturus will return to take you back to Magdalen in good time,’ he breathed in my ear. ‘If not, I would be happy to walk you there myself.’

‘Terebell is taking me,’ I said quietly.

‘How unsurprising.’

Another odd remark. I squirrelled it away in the mental box of clues.

He stalked back through the doorway, while Alsafi stood guard by the door. I was left in the sinister chamber, facing the woman who wanted me dead.

‘Sit,’ she said.

I thought about taking the chair at the farthest end of the table – a good twelve feet away – but she indicated the one on her left side, opposite the fireplace. I lowered myself into it, my mouth already dry.

Nashira watched me with intensity. Her eyes were green as burning absinthe.

‘I suppose you must be frightened,’ she said.

I should be. It was her name that was whispered in the shadows, her command that ended lives. Two of her angels drifted nearby, never too far from her aura.

Tell me who you were,I wanted to say to them. Tell me how to cheat my fate.

‘Our last meeting was not pleasant,’ Nashira said. ‘I trust you have had time to reflect on your conduct that night.’

I nodded once, avoiding the trap. I hadn’t been given permission to speak.

A bell jar stood in the middle of the table. Beneath the glass was a wilted flower, propped up by a wire stand, petals grey and shrivelled. Whatever kind it had been in life, it was unrecognisable in death. I couldn’t imagine why Nashira would have it on her dinner table – but then, she kept a fair amount of dead things hanging around.

I would soon be one of them, if something didn’t stop it.

She noticed my interest.

‘Some things are better off dead. Would you not agree?’ When I kept holding my tongue, she said, ‘You may speak freely at a feast.’

‘I’m not sure what you’re asking me, Suzerain.’

‘I hear three red-jackets accosted you. Kraz punished one with death,’ Nashira said. ‘Arcturus saw it as a squandering of many years of instruction, but we cannot allow you to come to harm, 40. You are worth more than all the others put together.’

There was cutlery in front of me, heavy and silver. The steak knife looked sharp.

‘Yet you still display contempt for our authority,’ Nashira said. ‘Suhail remains quite wroth with you, given your decision to attack and fell him. He has petitioned for me to punish you personally.’

Sitting in her presence was harder than I could ever have anticipated. All I wanted to do was shove the steak knife into her throat.

But I needed to keep a lid on my anger. Any hint of rebellion, and she might decide to cut her losses and kill me at once. I needed to convince her I was tamed, to buy myself as much time as possible – time to help Liss, form an escape plan, and leave before the Bicentenary.

‘I didn’t mean to attack Suhail,’ I said. ‘I can’t always control my gift.’

‘That much is apparent.’

‘I’m working on it.’

‘Are you, indeed?’

‘I’ve understood how lucky I am to be here, Suzerain. In London, I’m just an unnatural and a brogue. Here, I have a place. I have a purpose.’

‘Was it my consort who helped you make this realisation?’

‘Yes.’

The silence grew and grew. I had no idea whether or not to look at her.

In that silence, I made the grave mistake of looking up, allowing me to see the lines of plaster faces above the windows. Another strange choice of decoration. The nearest was peaceful, wearing the softest smile. A young woman, as calm as if she were asleep.

That was a famous French death mask. The face of a girl who was found in the Seine. Jaxon had a replica in the den. Eliza had made him cover it with a sheet, much to his annoyance. She said it made her skin crawl.

I looked around the room. All of the faces – the people – all of them were death masks. Nashira didn’t just collect spirits; she collected faces, too.

Seb could be up there. I dropped my gaze, pressing my lips together.

‘You seem unwell,’ Nashira said.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Good. I would hate for you to fall ill at this crucial stage of your training.’

She clasped her hands, allowing me to see the signet ring she wore over her glove, on her forefinger. I had to wonder if it was from Warden.

‘Some of the red-jackets will join us soon, but I wished to speak to you alone first,’ she said. ‘We will have a heart-to-heart, as you say.’

It fascinated me that she thought she had a heart.

‘Arcturus has kept me informed of your development. He tells me he has tried his utmost to bring out your gift,’ she said, ‘but you have yet to attempt a full possession. Is this true?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘A pity.’

Warden must not have told her about the butterfly. Surely she would have mentioned it.

He was downplaying my progress.

‘Yet you faced one of the Emim and survived,’ Nashira said. ‘For that reason, Arcturus believes you should be made a red-jacket. What do you think?’

I didn’t know what to say.

‘How quiet you are,’ Nashira said. ‘Last we met, you were not so timid.’

‘I’ve learned that it isn’t my place to have thoughts,’ I said, quoting her cousin.

‘Remarkable.’ Her eyes were glacial. ‘I have a small number of questions for you, 40. They must be kept between us, since they pertain to my consort.’

She may question you about me. Perhaps not yet, but soon.

‘You have been keeping quarters with Arcturus in Magdalen,’ Nashira said. ‘Whereabouts?’

‘In an attic by the Founders Tower.’

‘Does he ever ask you to come out of it?’

‘Only for training.’

‘I imagine you have explored his quarters. Is there anything in the Founders Tower that … troubles you?’ she asked. ‘Anything out of the ordinary?’

‘Not that I recall.’

‘Does he ever depart without explanation?’

I thought of his deep wounds. The way he disappeared when fog descended on the city, making it hard for prying eyes see his excursions.

‘No,’ I said. ‘If he did, he wouldn’t owe a human an explanation.’

‘Indeed. But does he ever seek to speak with you in a personal capacity?’

I shook my head. ‘What could I say that would be of any concern to the blood-consort?’

‘An excellent point.’

I bit my tongue.

Nashira took something from inside her doublet and held it up for me to see. A tarnished silver brooch.

‘Have you ever seen this symbol in Magdalen?’

A flower with eight petals, each tapering to a point. I had seen it before – just once, in the early days, as I explored the Founders Tower.

It was shaped exactly like the flower on his snuffbox. The one he kept in the display case, tucked just out of sight.

‘You may speak frankly,’ Nashira said. ‘Arcturus may be your keeper, but you answer to me.’

I lifted my chin. ‘I don’t understand why you’re asking me about him, Suzerain.’

‘Earth can be a taxing place. As his consort, I am always concerned for his wellbeing, but he is unselfish by nature. He chooses not to share his burdens with me,’ she said, without a lick of discernible fondness. ‘Since we live apart, I cannot see them. You must be my eyes.’

As if she would ever involve a human in her relationship issues. She must think I was thick as champ.

‘I will ask you once more,’ Nashira said. ‘Have you ever seen this symbol in the Founders Tower?’

Alsafi watched me from the doorway. I glanced at him, then at Nashira.

This was the moment of truth.

In the heartbeats that followed, I weighed my choices. For months, I had been a pawn in a game with rules I didn’t understand. A stick pulled between two dogs that ought to be getting along just fine.

There was a small possibility that Warden had been testing me on her behalf. Something told me that wasn’t the case. Surely even she wouldn’t expect her consort to put himself in that much danger just to see what I would do.

No, this was my chance to break faith with him. I could tell her everything, from his lenience to the wounds. I could admit to seeing the symbol. I could share my suspicions that he was not wholly obedient to her.

But she would still kill me, sooner or later.

Nashira didn’t know I was aware of her murderous intentions. Warden had prepared me for this. Thanks to him and Liss, I knew that all I would gain from betraying him were a few weeks of privilege.

I wanted to know more about Warden. I needed to understand who he was and what he was doing. I thought of his gentle attempt to tease me, and wondered for a moment if it might not have been mimicry.

Impressively, I managed to think all of this in the time it took me to adjust a button on my tunic.

‘No,’ I said.

Nashira watched me. ‘You seem very sure.’

‘I am.’

She looked straight at me, into my eyes. I had no idea if I was meant to hold or to break her gaze.

‘Of course,’ I said, ‘if I did see any such thing, I would tell you, Suzerain. I would never want my keeper to be without the love of his consort.’

‘I am glad to hear it.’

Nashira gave Alsafi a subtle nod. He pulled once on a tassel, ringing a bell.

‘Since you passed your second test, you are now a red-jacket,’ Nashira informed me. ‘You must be formally introduced to some of your new associates. They are loyal to me, even above their own keepers.’

That must have been my final trial. She had believed me.

I had reached the highest echelons of this city – the inner circle of Nashira Sargas.

A door closed in the distance. A line of red-jackets walked into the room, escorted by Suhail.

‘Welcome, my friends,’ Nashira said. ‘Please, sit.’

There were twenty of them, each well fed and clean as a whistle. They must come to see her in small groups. The veterans were at the front, including 16 and 17, who both walked stiffly. I tensed at the sight of them.

At the back of the line was Carl. The weasel had survived his second test. When he saw me, he looked close to indignation, as did several of the others. They must not have seen a pink-jacket at this table before.

They all sat. Carl took the chair directly across the table from me, while a burly soothsayer with an eyepatch sat to my left. David was a few places away. There was a fresh cut on his head, sealed with a row of stitches.

‘Another fine summer begins. Thanks to your efforts, the city has not been breached for several weeks,’ Nashira said. ‘Having said that, we must never forget the constant threat of the Emim. There is no cure for their brutality. Since the ethereal threshold is broken, there is also no way to imprison them in the Netherworld. You are all that stands between the hunters and their prey. You are the protectors of humankind.’

It was clear from their expressions that they all believed it, with the possible exception of David, who was eyeing the masks. 16 and 17 were wise enough not to look my way, which I appreciated. I was of a mind to chuck all my cutlery in their direction.

‘22,’ Nashira said. ‘How is 75?’

The man in question had a livid case of razor burn. I didn’t envy him, trying to shave with whatever dull blade had clearly been provided.

‘He’s a little better, Suzerain. Thank you,’ 22 said. ‘No sign of infection.’

‘His bravery has not gone unnoticed.’

‘He’ll be honoured to hear it.’

Nashira clapped. Four amaurotics came through a small door, each carrying a platter and the scent of herbs. Michael was among them, but he didn’t meet my eye. I had never seen him outside Magdalen.

Working quickly, they laid out a magnificent feast, avoiding the bell jar. One poured chilled wine into our glasses. A lump blocked my throat.

The platters were laden with food. Beautifully cut chicken, tender and succulent, with crispy golden skin; stuffing with sage and onion; thick, sweet-smelling gravy; cranberry sauce; steamed vegetables and roast potatoes and plump sausages wrapped in bacon – a feast fit for the Grand Inquisitor. When Nashira nodded, the others tucked straight in. They ate with enthusiasm, but without the feral urgency of starvation.

My gut ached. I thought of the performers, living on grease and hard bread, half of them left with nowhere to sleep.

Nashira saw my reservation.

‘Eat.’

It was clearly an order. I moved a few slices of chicken and some vegetables on to my plate. Carl gulped down his wine like it was water.

‘Watch it, 1,’ said one of the women. ‘You don’t want to be sick again.’

The rest of them laughed. Carl grinned. ‘Come on, that was just once. I was still pink.’

‘Yeah, leave off him, 6. He deserves a drink.’ 22 gave him a friendly punch on the arm. ‘He’s done well, for a rookie. Besides, we all had a tough time with our first Buzzer.’

There were murmurs of assent.

‘I passed out,’ 6 admitted. A selfless display of solidarity. ‘The first time I saw one on patrol. I would have been killed if not for the rest of my company.’

Carl smiled. ‘But you’re great with spirits, 6.’

‘Thanks.’

I watched their camaraderie in silence. It was mildly nauseating, but it seemed real. Carl hadn’t just found a way to survive in this strange new world – he had thrown himself in head first, and he was enjoying it.

To a degree, I could empathise. I remembered the intoxication of belonging. When I first started working for Jaxon, I had been high on that feeling for months. Maybe Carl had never found a place in London.

Nashira was as silent as me. She must take pleasure in this farce. Stupid, indoctrinated humans, learning to love the horrors they faced – all tucked under her thumb, eating her food, grateful for their servitude.

‘You’re still a pink.’ A high-pitched voice came to my attention. ‘Have you fought a Buzzer?’

I glanced up. They were all looking at me. ‘A few days ago,’ I said.

‘I haven’t seen you before.’ 22 raised his dense eyebrows. ‘Which company are you due to fight in?’

‘I’m not part of a company.’

‘Well, you’re a pink-jacket. You must be joining one,’ another man said, frowning. ‘Who’s your keeper?’

‘The blood-consort,’ I said.

During the ensuing silence, I took a sip of wine, allowing myself to savour their surprise. The unfamiliar alcohol burned on its way down.

Nobody could drink wine in the citadel. Then again, that was because Scion thought alcohol might turn people unnatural, and that ship had clearly sailed for the present company.

‘You’re 40,’ someone finally said.

‘I heard you’re a dreamwalker.’ Carl narrowed his eyes. ‘Is that true?’

‘It certainly is.’ I offered him a platter. ‘Chicken?’

Carl glared at me.

‘We have a rarity in 40,’ Nashira said. ‘One that 16 and 17 almost damaged.’

The brothers tensed. Even their smallest movements looked stiff, as if their clothes were hurting. If not for Liss, I might have pitied them.

‘You are both dedicated soldiers. Perhaps it is understandable that you should feel some resentment, seeing a newcomer so cosseted,’ Nashira said graciously. ‘40 receives special treatment because we cannot afford to injure her. I know that 62 was the ringleader – but do not repeat her mistake, or I will be forced to revoke your red tunics.’

‘Yes, Suzerain,’ they both mumbled. 16 gritted his teeth in obvious agony.

‘That applies to all of you,’ Nashira said.

They hastened to agree.

Nashira caught my gaze. I gave her a nod of feigned gratitude. She was both the greatest threat to my life and the reason I was theoretically untouchable.

‘Since Magdalen has so few humans, 40 will be formally considered part of Queens Company,’ Nashira said. ‘But she is unlikely to fight. You should consider her as separate from the rest of you.’

A dead woman walking, I thought, against my will.

For several minutes, only the clink of cutlery disturbed the silence. I ate my steamed vegetables.

After a time, the red-jackets made conversation. They swapped patrol stories. They asked each other about their residences, marvelling at the beauty of the old buildings. Sometimes they took a jab at the performers, deriding their cowardice or lack of personal hygiene.

The brothers toyed with their food, occasionally shooting me acrid looks. 30 was pink-faced from the wine, while Carl chewed with excessive force, alternating mouthfuls with sips from his second glass. Only when all the plates were clean did the amaurotics return to clear the table, leaving us with dessert.

Nashira waited for the red-jackets to serve themselves before she spoke again.

‘Now you are fed and watered, my friends, let us have a little entertainment.’

Carl wiped the treacle from his mouth with linen. A troupe of performers filed into the room. Among them was a whisperer, who raised his violin to his shoulder and played a lively tune. The others executed graceful acrobatics.

‘To business, then,’ Nashira said. The diners sat up a bit straighter. ‘If any of you have ever conversed with the Overseer, you may know that he is my procurer for the Bone Seasons. For decades, I have been attempting to extract valuable clairvoyants from the crime syndicate of the Scion Citadel of London. No doubt many of you are aware of it; some of you may even have been part of it.’

30 and 18 both shifted in their seats. I didn’t recognise either of them, but most of my work had been limited to I Cohort. Carl was open-mouthed.

Nobody looked at the performers. They had their art honed to perfection, and not one person cared.

‘As the Suzerain, I seek quality and variety, as well as quantity,’ Nashira continued. ‘We respect and value all of your skills, but there are many talents we must harvest to enrich our city. We must all learn from each other. It would not do to simply take in seers and palmists.’

I thought of Ivy in Corpus. In May, I had glimpsed her from a distance, in the fog, trailing behind Thuban. I hadn’t seen her since.

‘40 is the kind of clairvoyant we now seek. She is our very first dreamwalker,’ Nashira said. ‘We also require sibyls and berserkers, binders and summoners, oracles. All of these would bring fresh insight to our ranks.’

‘Personally, I think we could all learn a lot from 40,’ David said, raising his glass. ‘I’m willing.’

I raised an eyebrow.

In nearly three months, our paths had rarely crossed. If this was his way of trying to win my trust again, he needed to work harder.

‘An excellent attitude, 12. We do intend to learn a great deal from 40,’ Nashira said. ‘That is why I will be sending her on an external assignment.’

The veterans exchanged glances. Carl turned as red as the strawberry tarts.

‘I will also be sending 12. And you, 1,’ Nashira continued. Now Carl looked elated. David smiled into his glass. ‘Of the forty clairvoyants who arrived in March, the three of you have made the swiftest progress. You will go with some of your seniors from Bone Season XIX, who will monitor your performance under pressure. 30, I presume I can count on you to lead them, as you have in previous years.’

30 nodded. ‘I’d be honoured.’

‘Good.’

Surely external assignment couldn’t mean what I thought it meant. It wasn’t possible.

Carl was on the edge of his seat. ‘You’re sending us to London, Suzerain?’

‘On rare occasions, I dispatch red-jackets to the citadel for assignments that call for specialist knowledge, or where the Vigiles have failed. You are my trusted loyalists. I rely on you to enact my will.’

He swelled with pride.

‘In this case, we have a delicate situation to resolve,’ Nashira continued. ‘As you and 12 are aware, I have been asking recent arrivals to scry for the whereabouts of the White Binder, who leads a group of criminals known as the Seven Seals. This group is part of the clairvoyant syndicate.’

My ribs tightened to the point of pain.

‘The Seven Seals include an oracle and a fury,’ Nashira said. ‘Thanks to focused scrying over several months, we have deduced that they will be convening in London tomorrow night, on the eleventh of June.’

My heart was thumping so hard, I feared someone might hear it. I took a sip of wine to steady myself. It was crucial that I stayed calm now.

‘The meeting will take place in Trafalgar Square, which lies on the edge of I Cohort, Section 4,’ Nashira said. ‘To the best of our knowledge, it will be at one in the morning.’

Carl had seen a pillar in his test. I had feared it was the one at Seven Dials, but it must have been Nelson’s Column. That was a small relief – for now, the den was safe – but the detail the Rephs had accumulated was incredible. They even knew we had an oracle.

It sickened me that Nashira had even the faintest knowledge of Nick.

The Rephs really did know how to use the æther to their advantage. Multiple seers and augurs, as well as an oracle, scrying on behalf of a single querent – all of them fixated on a single, powerful desire. Over several months, that would get serious results. Not only that, but the Rephs clearly had a strong affinity with the æther, even more than we did. Of course it would answer their call.

‘Tell me,’ Nashira said, ‘do any of you know anything about the Seven Seals?’

18 was fiddling with the end of her braid, clearly uncomfortable. I avoided her gaze.

‘The White Binder is a writer. He published a pamphlet called On the Meritsof Unnaturalness in the early thirties,’ David said. ‘It broke us into seven broad orders.’

‘We are aware of that,’ Nashira said. ‘Anything else?’

‘No, Suzerain.’

Nashira looked around the table. Her attention inevitably landed on me.

‘Surely you were involved in the syndicate, 40,’ she said. ‘A clairvoyant of your rarity would not have gone unnoticed for so long without protection.’

Warden had definitely not told her about the pamphlet. If he had, I wouldn’t be able to deny my connection to Jaxon. I would already be in an interrogation room.

‘The gangs are very secretive,’ I said. ‘There’s gossip, but I don’t know much.’

‘Tell us what you do know.’

I was going to have to offer up a tidbit – just enough information to make her think I was being truthful. Something harmless.

‘We all know their false names,’ I said. ‘I did, at least.’

‘And what might those be?’

‘The White Binder, the Red Vision, the Black Diamond, the Pale Dreamer, the Martyred Muse, the Chained Fury, and the Silent Bell.’

‘The Pale Dreamer is an intriguing name,’ Nashira said. (Great.) ‘Does it not imply the presence of a dreamwalker within the Seven Seals?’

I dared not speak. Let her think I would never be so foolish as to give her my own alias.

‘You worked at an oxygen bar in I-4,’ she pressed. ‘Is that why you know about them?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

So she knew roughly where we were based. Or perhaps she had just guessed that from the meeting place, Trafalgar Square. It was a disputed part of the citadel, claimed by Jaxon and Hector.

‘Given the rarity of dreamwalkers,’ Nashira said, ‘I am surprised to hear you may have worked at such close quarters. Surely the White Binder would have employed you, too.’

‘No,’ I said.

Nashira waited. Now I had to think even faster than I had for Warden.

‘The Pale Dreamer is the heir to I-4. She’s violent and petty,’ I said. ‘She would have killed me if she thought she had a rival. The White Binder loves her because she’s unique. If he found out some upstart waitron had the same gift, it would threaten her place. I kept out of their way.’

Nashira drank for the first time, from a silver goblet.

‘I see.’

Cold sweat dampened my undershirt. I had worked in the syndicate for long enough to know when someone was toying with me.

Nashira Sargas was many things, but she didn’t strike me as stupid. Even without the pamphlet, she must have put the other evidence together. There was no way I could have worked on the same turf as another dreamwalker and avoided her gaze for three years.

No, Nashira knew exactly who I was.

‘If the Pale Dreamer is a dreamwalker,’ she said, ‘then the White Binder may be hiding some of the most powerful clairvoyants in the citadel. It is rare that we have an opportunity to add such precious jewels to our crown.’

I swallowed.

‘Your competence on this assignment is vital, 40. If anyone is capable of recognising the dreamwalker from the Seven Seals, it is a fellow dreamwalker.’

She really was sending us to London.

This was my chance to escape.

‘Of course, Suzerain,’ I said. ‘Do you know why the Seven Seals are convening?’

‘A handful of Irish clairvoyants have established contact with the London syndicate. Antoinette Carter is their leader,’ Nashira said. ‘Carter, whose real name is unknown, has been a fugitive for over a decade. From what the æther tells us, the Seven Seals will be meeting her.’

I had to work hard to control my expression. Leon had pulled it out of the bag.

Antoinette Carter. Thirteen years ago, she had escaped the bloodbath on St Stephen’s Green. A fellow survivor – one of the few.

She was coming to London.

How she planned to get there, I had no idea. The Irish Sea was almost impossible to cross, the coastlines guarded by watchtowers and patrol ships. Whatever Jaxon was offering, it must be quite a prize.

Jaxon. At this time of night, he would either be asleep or nursing a glass of sugared absinthe, with no idea his beloved æther had betrayed him.

‘It is imperative that a sister syndicate does not form in Ireland,’ Nashira said. ‘Consequently, this meeting must be averted. Your primary aim is to capture Antoinette Carter. I intend to find out what power she hides.’

I thought back to the night I had been detained. The Overseer had been surrounded by people in uniforms I hadn’t recognised. They must have been red-jackets on an external assignment.

That was how they kept the secret of the Bone Seasons. Even the Vigiles must not know.

‘The second aim is to apprehend the Seven Seals. The White Binder is a critical target.’

In my lap, my hands were sweating.

‘You will be supervised by my consort and his cousin, Situla Mesarthim,’ Nashira said. ‘I will hold you all responsible if Carter is allowed to return to Ireland.’ She looked at each of us. ‘Is that understood?’

‘Yes, Suzerain,’ 30 and Carl said. David nodded, swilling his wine around the glass.

‘You will all be free to use your gifts on this assignment. I expect you to show gratitude for the long hours your keepers have poured into your training.’ Nashira looked into my eyes. ‘You in particular, 40. If you do not attempt to reach your full potential in London, I shall see to it that you never walk the sheltered halls of Magdalen again. You can rot outside with the rest of the fools.’

I forced a nod, knowing she was lying. There was no emotion in her gaze, but there was a great emptiness – an emptiness that rang of hunger.

Nashira Sargas was losing her patience.