Confessions

CONFESSIONS

Time fragmented into slivers of awareness, interspersed with darkness. Sometimes there were lights, and sometimes voices. I became aware of someone cutting my undershirt. I tried to push away the intrusive hands, but my body mutinied. Distantly, I recognised the smell of disinfectant.

When Jaxon sent Nick to answer an insult, he never aimed to kill. Even a light maiming went against his nature. Still, there was no good place to be stabbed, and Oxford had no hospital. I already knew my chances were slim.

When I woke for the first time, I was on a polished table, a fire to my right. I knew this chamber. I was laid out like a corpse in the Residence of the Suzerain, surrounded by Rephs. Thuban was there; so were Kraz and Alsafi. Nashira loomed on one side, Warden on the other, both speaking Gloss. Nashira glanced down at me, her eyes ablaze.

She was going to kill me now, before I bled to death, and I couldn’t lift a finger to stop her. My side and head were in too much pain. I stared up at Warden.

He held my gaze for a long moment. His jaw tightened, and he looked up to speak once more to Nashira. I watched her give him a small nod before I slipped away.

The next time I became aware of myself, that sinister gathering of Rephs seemed like a hallucination. All I knew was pain. My side was in agony, my upper arm on fire. I made a weak sound: half sob, half groan.

‘Paige.’

The voice came as if from underwater. I looked around, my vision dark and blurred.

‘Michael, bring the scimorphine.’ A gloved hand covered mine. ‘Hold on, Paige.’

I knew that touch. My fingers hooked between his knuckles. I felt the slow brush of his thumb on my cheek before I slipped back into sleep.

It could have been a century before I woke again. Opening my eyes, I found myself in a familiar bedchamber, feeling as heavy as a duvet. My arm and abdomen were numb, but my lips had come apart, allowing me to breathe in deep. They quivered as I recalled what had happened.

Nick had let me go. I had been in his arms. My chest heaved as I went through it all in my head, remembering the bloody writing on the wall.

Jaxon knew where I was now. They all did.

The gramophone was playing in the other room, confirming my return to the Founders Tower. Lying as still as I could, I ran my tongue over my teeth. All present and correct. My splinted wrist was hurting, and my other hand was attached to a drip. Mindful of the cannula, I used it to shift the bedclothes off.

I was dressed in the silk nightshirt. Sliding it up, I saw the surgical dressing on my left side. My right arm was bandaged and smelled of fibrin gel, used to seal wounds and prevent bleeding.

Other than being stabbed and slashed, I also had deep bruises on my shins and hip, and one side of my face was puffy. Jaxon really had done a number on me. I eased myself on to my right side, huffing.

Something else had changed. I couldn’t put my finger on what. My body had clearly taken a beating, but my dreamscape felt different, awry.

Warden was in an armchair, gazing at the fire. Seeing I was awake, he stood.

‘Paige.’

The sight of him set off a heavy pounding in my chest. He moved his chair to my bedside, along with a jug of water and a glass.

‘The oracle.’ My throat hurt. ‘Did you kill the oracle?’

‘No.’

‘What about the others?’

‘The Seven Seals escaped, as did Antoinette Carter,’ Warden said. ‘The assignment was a failure. Nashira was as wroth as I have ever seen her.’

I released my breath, tears soaking my cheeks before I could stop them. A weak laugh escaped me, hurting my side.

Warden waited for me to collect myself. ‘Do you need help to sit up?’

After a moment, I took his proffered hand. He placed mine on his upper arm, so I could grasp him for support, then reached around my waist to my back, lifting me towards him with care. I tensed at the sharp pain in my side.

It was strange to be pressed so close to him, even though he had held me before. While he moved the pillows to bolster me up, my fingers tightened on his arm, finding it as solid as iron. Even with all my training, I was fragile in comparison. Once I was settled, he let go.

‘So we’re back,’ I said.

‘Yes.’

A faint green stain was dwindling from his eyes. He must have fed on a medium – but not Eliza. She was safe in London, protected by Seven Dials.

‘Carter,’ I said. ‘How did she get away?’

‘By jumping into the Thames.’

She had risked her life by doing that, but I was glad she had gone. Whatever power she had, it was too dangerous for Nashira to steal.

‘You have quite a collection of injuries,’ Warden said. ‘Fortunately, the Vigiles had a trauma surgeon on hand. She saved you. I have continued your treatment here, with dacrodiorin and scimorphine.’

Both of those drugs were exorbitant. One was used to accelerate healing, especially after surgery, while the other was a strong painkiller.

‘Seems like a waste of resources,’ I said, ‘given why I’m here.’

‘Nashira did consider ending it. You were returned here in a private ambulance after three days in Westminster Hospital. On the first night, she ordered me to move your sickbed to the Residence of the Suzerain.’

It hadn’t been a hallucination, then. I really had been laid out on her dinner table.

‘After the paramedics left, you developed a mild fever. Nashira planned to kill you that night, believing your injuries might take you first. Tertius and Situla had reported to her that you possessed David – thus, she no longer had any fear of not gaining your gift in its fullness.’

Of course they had told her.

‘I renewed that fear,’ Warden said. ‘I convinced her that you needed to practise the ability you had only unlocked in a moment of dread – to ensure that you had full command of it, and that she would be able to use it at will. I am now confident that she will wait until the Bicentenary.’

‘How long has it been since the assignment?’

‘A week.’

It was the eighteenth, then. He had bought me about two and a half months.

‘Thanks to the dacrodiorin, you should be able to rise when you wish. The paramedics assured me you will be fully recovered by Midsummer Eve,’ he said. ‘From the day after, I will continue your training.’

‘Here,’ I said.

‘Yes.’

Even if he and Nashira had a cold relationship, she really did seem to trust him to prepare my gift for her. It almost made me doubt myself – but twenty years had passed since the rebellion. Perhaps Warden had been slowly earning her trust back, easing down her guard.

‘The Seven Seals were more brutal and powerful than we anticipated,’ Warden said. ‘Nashira was disappointed to learn that there was no appearance from the Pale Dreamer … but I wonder if she was among us that night. Tertius observed that you chose to attack David. The Vigiles noted that Amelia was incapacitated with a flux dart. One of yours.’

I waited, knowing the inevitable was coming.

‘The oracle was the one who stabbed you,’ Warden said, ‘but this was clearly a case of mistaken identity, given your mask. He tried to save you.’

‘You took me from him,’ I said.

‘He would have exposed Seven Dials.’

‘I know. Even if part of me hates you for it.’

‘I accepted that possibility.’ Warden touched me under the chin, so gently and briefly I hardly felt it. ‘Some time ago, you told me I did not know who I had crossed. I would hear you say it. Who are you?’

I lifted my gaze, meeting his.

‘Paige Mahoney,’ I said quietly. ‘But some know me as the Pale Dreamer. For the last three years, I’ve been mollisher to the White Binder.’

A long silence. The secret I had kept for months, laid in the firelight between us.

‘Nashira suspects you,’ Warden said in an undertone. ‘She is no fool, Paige.’

‘Will she interrogate me?’

‘Perhaps. She wants very much to find the White Binder – but after you were almost killed, I hope she will be loath to risk your life before the Bicentenary. I will shield you as best I can, but you must be vigilant.’

‘I’m a career criminal in Scion. I have to be vigilant,’ I pointed out. ‘Why is she looking for him?’

‘I hoped you might know.’

‘I have no idea. Jaxon has a lot of influence, but I don’t see why he should concern her any more than the rest of the Unnatural Assembly.’

‘Hm.’

It was a relief to be able to talk about the syndicate – to not have to conceal who I was any more, just as it had been liberating to stop pretending I was amaurotic. For better or worse, I had missed the Pale Dreamer.

‘You said you wouldn’t sit in judgement,’ I said. ‘Is that still true, Warden?’

‘Yes.’

‘Even though the White Binder wrote On the Merits of Unnaturalness. Even though he created the hierarchy. Even though I worked for him without question, knowing exactly the kind of person he is, and most of the time, I liked it.’ I watched him. ‘Do you know what a mollisher is?’

‘Perhaps something of a lieutenant.’

‘Yes. I was his enforcer, his debt collector, his weapon.’ I raised a hand to the gauze and padding at my side. ‘The Red Vision – the oracle – stabbed me here to punish my insolence, not knowing who I was. It wasn’t to kill me. This was a precise stab, meant to nick my liver.’

‘It did.’

I nodded. ‘I’d either have to bleed to death, or go to hospital, risking arrest.’

‘Have you done this to anyone?’

‘I haven’t stabbed anyone yet. That’s not to say I haven’t made threats.’

‘I believe you are trying to make a point, Paige.’

‘You wanted to know who I am. I’m telling you.’

‘The Pale Dreamer is not all you are.’

‘But she is part of me. I won’t deny it.’

Warden detached me from the drip. I watched his hands, their gentle precision.

‘I never did understand why you all wear those gloves.’ I said it with a thin smile. ‘What do you think is going to happen if you touch a human?’

‘It is her ruling, not mine.’

‘And you disagree with the way she runs things, even though she’s your consort, your sovereign. I think you’ve disagreed with her for a long time.’

‘Perhaps it is you who will sit in judgement of me,’ Warden said. ‘You do not understand why I would choose her as my consort. Is that not so?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then perhaps you should ask yourself if I did.’

Just as he started to let go of my hand, I grasped his wrist, keeping him where he was. He could have broken my grip with ease, but he stilled.

‘I’ve told you who I am,’ I said. ‘You gave me your word that if I came back, you would tell me the truth. Are you one of the scarred ones?’

Warden glanced at my hand on his wrist. He lifted his gaze to my face, and I knew.

‘Yes.’

I nodded. ‘And the symbol?’

‘The amaranth, a flower that grows only in the Netherworld. Its history extends to the time before we came here. Now it is a forbidden symbol of rebellion,’ he said. ‘A rejection of Sargas rule.’

‘And you still keep it here.’

‘A small reminder of who I once was.’

‘Do you want to be that person again?’

‘What if I did, Pale Dreamer?’

‘Then you would have to be careful. You tried to overthrow her, but one human betrayed your plans. That must have left more than physical scars. I imagine you lost your faith in humanity for a while. It’s why you looked so angry when I blackmailed you. You saw a shadow of the human who fucked you over.’

Warden looked into my eyes.

‘Perhaps,’ he said, ‘you do not lack perspicacity after all, Paige Mahoney.’

‘Nashira has been testing me. I think you’ve been doing the same. On Novembertide, you learned the hard way that some humans act in their own interests first. If you try again, you can’t repeat your mistake. You’ve been judging whether I’d be an ally or an enemy, trying to work out if I’m like the traitor – if I’m selfish enough to throw everyone here to the wolves to save my own skin, like him. Tell me I’m wrong, Arcturus.’

The silence was all the answer I needed.

‘And you’re still not really sure,’ I said, ‘because now you know who I am, and who I work for, and you can’t imagine that anyone like me could be trustworthy.’

The gramophone moved on to a new song.

‘I feared that, for a time,’ Warden said. ‘But then I learned something about you, Paige.’

‘What?’

‘You are a survivor of the Dublin Incursion.’

I couldn’t speak.

‘Very few were left alive that day,’ Warden said. ‘When they were, it was intentional. Scion needed eyewitnesses, to tell the rest of Ireland what had happened. To warn them of the bloodshed they would face if they resisted.’

‘You can’t know I was one of them.’ I stared at him. ‘I didn’t live in Dublin.’

‘No, but your aunt and your cousin did. Finn died that day, did he not?’

‘Is this in my records?’

‘No.’

‘Then how the hell do you know?’

Warden stood. He walked towards the hearth and placed a hand on the mantelpiece.

‘You have made your confessions. Now I will offer mine,’ he said. ‘You are right. I needed to be sure that you were not like the one who betrayed us.’

Even as he spoke, my mind was racing.

‘You mentioned Seven Dials,’ I whispered. ‘I never told you I lived there.’

‘But I knew.’ Warden glanced at me. ‘I also know the oracle is called Nick Nygård, and that he works for Scion. I know you were treated cruelly at school. I know your cousin left you during the Dublin Incursion.’

‘How long have you known all this?’

‘You know how long.’

My heart fluttered as if I had dreamwalked. I was on the brink of passing out.

‘What—’ I could hardly say it. ‘What are you?’

‘I can make a person dream their memories.’

My body turned nerveless and cold.

‘You’re an oneiromancer,’ I said faintly. ‘Aren’t you?’

Warden nodded.

Jaxon had theorised their existence years after On the Merits was published, but never proved it. The oneiromancer was the inverse of most voyants. While many among us specialised in foresight, the oneiromancer sought wisdom in the past, finding clear vision in hindsight.

‘I’ve been remembering things since I got here.’ I got out of bed, grasping my side. ‘I thought I was hallucinating. I thought it was from the flux.’

Warden looked away.

‘It was you. All that time.’ My voice quaked. ‘What was in the green pill, Warden?’

‘It was a herb called salvia, or seers’ sage. It clarifies the memories I seek, and helped open your dreamscape to my influence.’

‘All the times you asked me if I was just a pickpocket, you knew exactly who and what I was.’ I shook my head. ‘Did you enjoy toying with me?’

‘I had to see your history for myself, for my allies’ sake, before I trusted you,’ Warden said, eyes burning. ‘Last time, I failed them by not taking sufficient precautions. They were scarred for my error, and almost every human in this city paid for it with their lives.’

My fist clenched.

‘Your memories showed me that the White Binder is a strong influence on you,’ Warden said. ‘But they also reassured me that you are compassionate and loyal, with a good heart and no love for Scion. I saw that you had criminal associates in the citadel, but you never betrayed them.’

‘Of course not. They’re my family.’ I took a step back. ‘Your excuses aren’t going to work on me. Those memories were private.’

‘So are dreamscapes and bodies.’

‘You forced me to learn possession. Don’t you dare try to draw comparisons here, you—’ To my horror, fresh heat sprang in my eyes. ‘You could have just asked who I was.’

‘I did. And you lied,’ he said. ‘I understand why, Paige.’

I shook my head again, trembling.

‘I was so close to trusting you. I don’t trust easily,’ I said, ‘but I was ready to take a chance, Warden. You gave me hope that I might actually get out of here.’ I walked right up to him. ‘You wanted to know the kind of person I am. I’ve told you in my own words, and you’ve seen it. Now you’ve shown me who you are, too – someone who would violate my privacy to protect himself.’

‘It was not only myself I sought to protect.’

‘So you’d protect everyone but me, the person you want to risk her neck for you?’

He lowered his gaze, his jaw tightening. An angry blaze flayed my cheeks.

‘I will not speak in my own defence,’ he said, ‘but I apologise for the pain I have caused you, and for breaking your trust. You deserved better.’

My eyes stung again. He waited, perhaps expecting me to say more, but I had nothing left. It was taking everything I had to hold myself together.

‘I will sleep elsewhere,’ Warden said quietly. ‘Michael will take care of you. If you still wish to train with me, meet me in the cloister at dusk on the first of July. Until then, the Founders Tower is yours, Paige.’

He placed his key on the desk and left, closing the door behind him. I sank to the floor by the fire, my hand pressed to my padded side.

He had seen all my loss, all my anger, all my ghosts. The day I had buried for thirteen years. The day I was supposed to die; the day I sometimes wished I had, because then I would have no memory of it. In my mind, I stumbled through those streets again, blood under my boots, my ears ringing in the silence, surrounded by the dead of Dublin.

Scion had left me alive, to tell the world they were coming. I thought of my own cries – the small, broken cries of a lost child – and wept.