Into the House

INTO THE HOUSE

For that first day and the night that followed, I did little but rest. Gail had made a start on the roof, but I needed to stay on the dacrodiorin and keep warm. So I slept in Warden’s bed, even though I wanted nothing more from him. I should never have taken those pills.

Nick wouldn’t be able to find me. The gang knew where I was, but even Jaxon couldn’t get past that many outposts, or through Gallows Wood.

Warden had been my last hope.

For the first time in years, I wished I were amaurotic. I wanted my life to go back to normal – the way it had been when I lived with my grandparents, before the poppy field, before the Dublin Incursion.

But there was no normal. There never had been. Normal and natural were the greatest lies we had ever created – we humans, with our little minds.

The day bell rang again, as it always did. I removed the drip and got out of bed, just to distract myself. I had got used to sleep inversion, but for once, I wanted to see the sun.

In the bathroom, I changed my dressings and washed as much as I could. I combed my hair and cleaned my teeth. Once I was done, I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were raw and puffy, my face pale.

Warden played on my mind. I could feel him elsewhere in Magdalen, clearer than ever, as if my sixth sense was more attuned to him.

Now I had space from him, I considered what he had done. I could sympathise with his reasons, even if I bitterly resented him for it. I almost envied his ability to see who could and could not be trusted. No doubt I would have used it, too, if I were an oneiromancer. He had known me for three months, and his allies – whoever they were – for much longer; of course he would put their safety over my privacy, just as I would choose my gang over him. If we did strike an alliance here, it would only ever be a means to an end. A marriage of convenience.

He was even right about my hypocrisy, to an extent. I had violated David in London, snatching his body to help Nadine. In the heat of the moment, I had sacrificed his autonomy and dignity to save my friend. I had acted according to my own moral compass, my own needs.

Still I couldn’t shake the sense that what Warden had done was crueller – carried out over time, with intent. I couldn’t see memories. He had opened an eye in my dreamscape, watched my past like a film.

I went back to the bedchamber and moved the medicine next to the daybed. Nestled by the fire, I thought back, nursing a slight headache.

Warden had kept my secrets. For weeks, he had known who I was and where I lived, but never told Nashira about Seven Dials, nor reported Nick. She had guessed that I was part of the syndicate, but not because of him. I had accused him of not protecting me, yet that was exactly what he had done.

I still couldn’t bring myself to forgive him. I supposed I had until July.

Michael popped in at eleven. Seeing I was awake, he retreated again. I returned to my brooding. When he came back about half an hour later, he pulled the curtains apart, flooding the parlour with golden sunlight. I blinked against the sudden glow.

‘Can I help you, Michael?’

He brought in a small trolley from outside. I watched him lay a splendid breakfast on the table in front of me, with fresh coffee and a jug of hot milk to top it off. When I shook my head, Michael frowned.

‘I’m not hungry,’ I said mulishly. ‘I don’t want his guilt breakfast.’

Michael pursed his lips. To my surprise, he took my hand, wrapped it around a fork, and stabbed it directly into the pancakes.

‘Fine, but I’m eating for you, not for him.’

He smiled. Just to keep him happy, I drizzled honey on the pancakes.

Michael kept a sharp eye on me as he pottered around the room. My first reluctant bite of pancake awakened a punishing hunger. I ate my way through the whole stack, along with two flaky pastries with plum jam, a bowl of sweet porridge, four slices of hot buttered toast, a plate of scrambled eggs, and three cups of coffee. There was fruit, too – raspberries and cream, probably from the physic garden.

Once I was stuffed, Michael presented me with an envelope. I took it.

‘Trust him,’ Michael said.

It was the first time I had ever heard him speak. His voice was barely more than a whisper.

‘I want to,’ I said quietly. ‘Do you?’

He nodded.

‘Does he even have a bed where he’s sleeping?’

His gesture indicated that he had no idea.

‘Well, if you see him around, tell him I hope he’s cold and miserable, won’t you?’

Michael gave me a reproachful look. While he cleared the breakfast table, I split the red wax seal on the envelope and unfolded the sheet of thick paper inside. It was bordered with swirling gold. Paige, it began:

I know you may never forgive me. I accepted this on the night you arrived – but even if you resent me, know that I sought only to understand you. I wish that you and I had met under different circumstances; that we had been able to become acquainted in good faith, without fear of betrayal. Alas, we have only these circumstances, and this city.

Some apology this was. A little more grovelling would have been nice. Still, I continued to read:

Whether or not you wish to see me again, I urge you to prepare yourself for the Bicentenary. Keep up your strength as best you can, and take the dacrodiorin. I fear my consort intends to make your death a spectacle. You must be able to fight when the time comes. Hone your dreamwalking, if you can. You do not need me for that, Paige. Though you may not have seen it, it was always me who needed you, not the other way around.

Better. I read on, tucking my hair behind my ear.

You said I would protect my allies, but not you. I hope to prove otherwise. As I have been your hope during this long ordeal, so you have been mine. I have left a small gift with Michael. Consider it a token of my gratitude, but use it only if you must.

Just by writing this, Warden was demonstrating his newfound trust in me. It was an intimate and seditious letter; it would be damning for him if I took it to Nashira. Instead, I burned it, knowing that was best for both of us.

‘Michael,’ I said, ‘what did he leave for me?’

He reached into his tunic and handed me the gift. It was a thick glass vial on a chain, about the length of my longest finger, with an ornate gold stopper. Inside, there was some kind of powder, greyish blue.

‘Pollen,’ Michael rasped.

‘Pollen,’ I echoed. ‘What’s the man trying to do, give me hay fever?’

Michael gave me a weighty look. My brow was still knitted by the time he left.

The clock struck one. Reinvigorated by the coffee, I went downstairs, braced for the chill in the cloister, where a door that had been locked was ajar. That must be the way to the private library.

I passed the chapel doors and crossed the courtyard. Fazal was in the Porters’ Lodge with a stove, reading the fattest book I had ever seen. He had gained a few grey hairs over the last month.

‘Paige,’ he said in surprise. ‘You should be resting.’

‘I’m grand.’ I stopped in front of him. ‘Faz, you’ve been here for a while. In your experience, are there usually many guards outside during the day?’

‘The Overseer patrols the Rookery, to ensure people are keeping to the curfew. I don’t think any of the Rephs go out in daylight. It doesn’t hurt them, as far as I can tell – they just prefer to be awake during the night.’

‘If I was to sneak out for half an hour or so, would you let me back in?’

‘The Warden won’t want you going outside, not with your injuries.’

I sighed. ‘Faz—’

‘You get into trouble every time you go out there, Paige. Not only that, but you drag him into it.’

‘I just want to check on Liss,’ I said. ‘I haven’t seen her since she went into spirit shock. I know a secret way to her place. I’ll come straight back.’

‘No. I’m sorry.’

Accepting defeat, I went back upstairs.

Another two days passed. I slept and did gentle stretches in the Founders Tower, waiting for my body to heal. Nick hadn’t known who I was, but I was still going to give him an earful about this, if I ever saw him again. Then again, he would already be furious with himself.

Warden continued to keep his word. He had given up the whole of the Founders Tower.

By the end of the second day, my side was no longer hurting, and the wound had turned into a nice clean scar. I could wait no longer. Fazal and Gail seemed to have agreed not to let me out, but I needed to see Liss.

I waited for Michael to bring my food and medicine. As soon as he was gone, I went to the linen cabinet for my uniform. Inside, I found a new tunic, identical to the others, except it was yellow – the yellow of a sunflower, so bright it could guide ships in fog. A note was pinned to the collar.

Nashira was informed that you left the containment zone. Your red tunic has been temporarily rescinded. Since you were forced out of the zone, I have appealed for her to revoke this decision.

The tunic for cowards. I returned it to the cabinet, shaking my head. Instead, I dressed in my black combat trousers and dark undershirt, then laced up my winter boots. I wrapped the food Michael had brought and tucked it into my backpack from the assignment.

In the hour before the day bell, I left the Founders Tower. I avoided the Porters’ Lodge and climbed my way out of the residence, gritting my teeth as my body ached in protest.

The Broad lay quiet. A few lamps and cookfires still burned, lighting the street for the people clearing what remained of the Rookery. The performers’ home would be swept away, out of sight of the incoming guests.

Now the Old Library was back in use, the boards had been taken off some of its windows. I squeezed in through an unlatched one. The performers had arranged their remaining possessions on the shelves, each claiming a patch of floor. Keeping out of sight, I looked for Liss.

She lay in a dark corner, covered by a duvet that could only be from one of the residences. Julian and Cyril sat at her bedside, trying in vain to wake her. They both startled when I appeared.

‘Paige?’

Julian crushed me straight into his arms. When we parted, I grasped his shoulders.

‘What happened?’

He was no longer in his pink tunic. In fact, he was no longer in a tunic at all. ‘Aludra stopped me going to see Liss,’ he said. ‘I broke into her building and set fire to it. I told her it was me.’

‘You got yourself thrown out?’

Julian nodded. ‘Like you said, it isn’t worth my life. And I can be with Liss.’

‘You’re not supposed to be here,’ Cyril hissed at me. ‘No jackets allowed until the Bicentenary.’

‘I won’t stay long.’ I passed him my backpack. ‘Here. I brought some food.’ He grabbed it at once, and I knelt beside Liss. ‘How is she?’

‘Still fighting,’ Julian said.

‘How often is she conscious?’

‘She wakes up a couple of times a day. Not for long, though.’

Liss was in a fitful sleep. In less than a month, she had grown thin. I touched her forehead. Her skin was icy, even with the duvet.

Now she could no longer connect with the æther, her spirit wanted to abandon her body, to flee to the other side. Like a candle nearing the end of its wick, her aura was starting to gutter and fade. If it disappeared altogether, she would be amaurotic, whether she lived or died.

Some kind of ointment had been smeared on her burned hands. Cyril drummed his fingers on his knee, watching her with an owlish intensity.

‘Come on, Rymore,’ he mumbled. ‘Don’t leave us in the lurch for the Bicentenary.’

‘You’ve been away for a while,’ Julian murmured to me. Liss turned her head. ‘I heard you’d been sent on an assignment. Was it to London?’

‘Yes. I was sent to arrest my own friends,’ I said. ‘I managed to avoid killing them, but one of them stabbed me in the liver. I’ve been having a great few days.’ He snorted. ‘Have you been able to get Liss to eat or drink?’

‘Enough to keep her alive, but she won’t last much longer.’ Julian ground his jaw. ‘At least Suhail and the Overseer are leaving her alone, for now. Nell volunteered to step in – she’s an aerialist, too – so they’re satisfied they’ve got someone to take over for the Bicentenary.’

‘Nell isn’t as good,’ Cyril informed us. ‘She falls. Rymore never falls.’

‘She’s getting weak,’ I said. ‘This can’t go on.’

‘But we can’t do anything,’ Julian said, his voice rough with frustration. ‘Even if we find a new deck, there’s no guarantee she’ll connect with it.’

‘We have to try.’ I looked towards Cyril. ‘There must be an unclaimed deck of cards somewhere in this city. Do you have any ideas, Cyril?’

‘The House,’ Cyril said, without hesitation. ‘That’s where the Rephs store a lot of their supplies – confiscated or abandoned numa, and the weapons the red-jackets use in the woods. If a cartomancer died here, the deck would either have been destroyed or sent to the House.’

I nodded. ‘Then that’s where I’ll go.’

‘You’ll die.’

‘Trust me, when it comes to stealing, I’m the right voyant for the job.’ I paused. ‘Wait. Cyril, did you say there were weapons in there?’

‘Paige?’

Liss had opened her eyes. I went back to her at once, taking the frail hand she held up.

‘Liss,’ I said softly. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘I’ve felt better. Being voyant is what put me in this place, but … I’m just now realising how much I would miss the æther.’ Liss swallowed. ‘Jules, Cyril, could you leave us alone for just a moment?’

They did as she asked. I waited, braced for her to tell me she hated me.

‘Jules said you went to London,’ Liss said in a faint voice. ‘But you’re here now. You didn’t try to escape, then?’

‘They put a tracker in me. But even if I had escaped, I would have come back.’

‘Then you’re not the White Binder.’ She wet her cracked lips. ‘I won’t ask you why you worked for him, Paige. I’m sure you had your reasons … but I don’t think you’re like him. If he was the King of Wands in your reading, I might be afraid you admired him, but the card was inverted. I think you see him for what he is.’

My eyes filled again, my jaw clenching. I had cried more in the last few days than I had in over a year.

‘I had a question.’ Liss whispered it. ‘Where is home to you, Paige?’

London had both held and hurt me. I had been cut away from Ireland.

‘I don’t know,’ I said.

‘I feel the same,’ Liss said. ‘A few years after the Rephs came, my ancestors sailed from the free world to Edinburgh. I’ve often wondered how long it took them to stop being homesick, if they ever did. For years, this place has been the only home I know, but my dreamscape … is still a bonny clearing in the Highlands.’

‘We’ll find a new home.’ I stroked her dark hair. ‘Liss, I’m going to get you a deck of cards. And then I’m going to get you out of here.’

‘How?’

‘The Rephs really did help with the first rebellion. I think I know which one of them started it,’ I said. ‘I think we could try again.’

‘You make me feel brave, Paige.’ A tiny smile lifted her cheeks. ‘Be careful, won’t you?’

‘I promise.’

She nodded and slipped back into her deep sleep. Julian soon returned, folding his arms. He still had plenty of muscle from training.

‘Are you serious about going to the House?’

‘Not just for the cards,’ I said. ‘When I was in London, I saw a single voyant fend off three Rephs. They’re not unbeatable, Jules. I want to at least get a glimpse of the supplies that might be in there.’

‘For a rebellion?’

‘Maybe.’ I arched an eyebrow at him. ‘Say that was the general idea. Are you in?’

‘Of course I’m in.’ The flame on the stove played in his dark eyes. ‘If you risk going to the House, I’ll start the work here. I can rally the troops.’

‘Don’t do it.’ Cyril spoke from behind the shelves. ‘You’ll die, like the ones who came before. The Buzzers came in and—’

‘They’re not going to rebuild the Rookery, Cyril,’ I cut in. ‘After the Bicentenary, that’s it. You’re back out in the cold with nothing.’

Cyril fell silent.

‘That settles it, then.’ Julian grasped my elbow. ‘Paige, we have to do this. A prison break. We leave them with no voyants again.’

‘Jules.’ I gripped him back. ‘I agree, but we can’t rush this. There are over three hundred people in this city, and we don’t have any way out. I looked for one during my second test. There really are landmines in Gallows Wood.’

‘But you do want to fight.’ He gave me a serious look. ‘You’re from the syndicate, aren’t you?’

After a moment, I nodded. ‘Did Liss say?’

‘Yes. I can also just … tell.’

‘Not sure if that’s a compliment, but thanks.’

‘Liss mentioned you hold a high rank in the underworld. If that’s true, you might be able to give the performers the sort of hope they’ve not had in a decade,’ Julian said. ‘You could promise them that there will be something more after this. That they’ll have a home in London.’

I needed to explain that I didn’t have the power to make that kind of promise. Only Jaxon could give them a place in the syndicate, and he never would. To him, none of these prisoners were diamonds among stone.

Before I could articulate this, Julian continued: ‘I know what you mean, about biding our time. But I need something to hold on to, Paige. All of us do. Let’s start to plan this – you and me. Let’s show them that even after two hundred years, they still have something to fear.’

His conviction was invigorating.

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I have my own irons in the fire, but you can plant seeds, too. Start with people who have good reason to hate the Rephs – but Jules, be careful who you trust. Ask them questions. Nothing more.’

In unison, we both looked at Cyril.

‘No.’ Behind his ruined glasses, his eyes were feverish. ‘You two muttonheads do what you like, but I’m not getting involved in this. The Rephs are immortal. How are we supposed to fight them off, exactly?’

‘They’re not all the same,’ I said quietly. Julian frowned. ‘I can’t say anything yet, Jules. You talk to the performers; I’ll break into the House.’

‘What, right now?’

‘No. I’ll take a couple of days to plan my approach.’ I stiffened, sensing a dreamscape I knew well. ‘The Overseer is coming. I’d better go.’

‘Okay.’ He ushered me out. ‘Come back and see us soon, if you can.’

‘I’ll try.’

Liss was about to lose her clairvoyance. I had to stop it. Not only that, but Julian had galvanised me into acting. What Cyril had mentioned was a temptation. I needed to see what they had in the House.

The Bicentenary would take place on the first of September. If Scion could take Dublin in a day, I could make a plan for payback in two months.

Warden continued to give me space, allowing me to scheme. In the library, I found a floor plan of the House, tucked among other documents pertaining to Oxford.

On Midsummer Eve, I donned my backpack and pulled up the hood of my coat. The paramedics had been right – with the help of the best medicine in Scion, I had made a full recovery in twelve days. I still took a dose of scimorphine before I slipped out of the Founders Tower.

I only had a few tools with me – my set of crude lockpicks, a torch, and the vial of mysterious pollen from Warden. It would have to be enough.

After some deliberation, I had decided that it would be too risky to enter the House by day. I needed the cover of darkness. As night fell, I left the residence by vaulting over the wall again, unnoticed by Gail.

The House was among the largest of the Rephs’ buildings. Fronted by a daunting tower, it had several vast courtyards, including Tom Quad. To infiltrate and search it, I would have to bring to bear every skill I had ever learned from Eliza. She was the one who had taught me thieving and burglary, as part of my education in the art of being a criminal. Meanwhile, Nick had taught me to climb.

The House had no permanent residents. Thuban Sargas seemed to go there frequently; otherwise, few keepers visited. I still expected guards if there was treasure to be found, but my gift would allow me to sense them.

Magdalen Walk would lead me directly to the House, but I didn’t want to be seen tonight. Instead, I cut down Rose Lane and followed a narrow path that took me along the back wall of the Residence of Merton.

No humans were permitted in the House. That made it all the more tempting. As I scaled a wall into its grounds, I compiled a mental list of things I might need to escort people through Gallows Wood.

Crossing the minefield had to be a last resort. Weapons would be crucial, given what lurked in the trees, but medical supplies would be an extra asset. Adrenalin was valuable – not only could we use it to sharpen our performance and dull pain, but it could also revive me if I had to leave my body.

For tonight, the cards were my priority. I could always come back to the House.

I had pondered over the floor plan for a long time, trying to work out which of its many rooms might contain numa. Suspecting Gail might have chipped in with its maintenance, I had asked her a few questions, feigning curiosity. From her, I had learned that only one building was generally used for storage.

The Meadow Building had large windows and plenty of footholds. Thick ivy grew in swathes across its façade, which faced Cherwell Meadow and Gallows Wood. I used the ivy to climb to a balcony.

At once, I sensed two Rephs and stopped, concentrating. They were in the House, but not close.

The storage rooms would be locked. I needed to pick the right one. Moving between the balconies, I tried to see through the windows, risking my torch. When its beam caught on metal, I stared. In this room, there were racks of weapons: swords, hunting knives, a crossbow. This must be where they stored arms to distribute to the red-jackets.

Julian was right. I wanted to make Scion afraid. To start, I was getting some of these weapons.

Now I just needed to enter the building. On the floor above the balcony, a sash window had been left open, just a crack. I used a drainpipe to reach a ledge, then shimmied across to the window, pulling myself through it.

I descended back to the middle floor. Finding the right door, I started to work on the lock with my picks. Hopefully the Rephs were unfamiliar with the telltale signs that a lock had been meddled with.

This whole city was old enough that its locks were no real obstacle. I slipped into the room and shut the door behind me. When I looked up, I found myself facing a large, yellowed map.

THE PENAL COLONY OF SHEOL I

OFFICIAL TERRITORY OF THE SUZERAIN

All the familiar landmarks were there: Magdalen, Amaurotic House, the Residence of the Suzerain, the Townsend, Port Meadow. I shone my torch across it, looking for any details I had missed.

Something caught my eye on Port Meadow. The printed letters next to it were faded, but I made them out.

OXFORD TRAIN STATION

It hadn’t even crossed my mind.

We had all been brought here by train. Why couldn’t we leave on it, too? It would take us under Gallows Wood. The average Scion train could hold nearly four hundred people, more if they were standing. I could get every single prisoner out of this city and still have room for more.

Even as the plan formed in my mind, I forced myself to take a steadying breath. The entrance to the station could be locked or booby-trapped. Even if we got past it, the Rephs would make sure Scion was ready at the other end.

We definitely needed weapons.

I searched the room. There were multiple net guns and air rifles, with boxes of acid and flux darts, as well as old horse pistols, which had to be more for comfort than anything. The air rifles would be handy, but I imagined they were counted with care, and I had no way to carry one. Still, I could probably filch a few small items. I took a sheathed knife and an air pistol, along with a case of acid darts.

In a metal case, I found boxes of ammo. Nick had tried to shoot Warden and Tertius, to no avail, but firearms would get rid of loyal red-jackets.

The sound of footsteps drifted to my ears. Without pausing, I shut myself into one of the gun cabinets, just as the creak of hinges came.

Two Rephs walked into the room. I could have kicked myself for not paying closer attention to the æther. Now my exit was blocked. The cabinet also had no room for a human. I had to suck in my stomach to fit.

Thuban Sargas was first in the room, drawling in Gloss. I pressed back, eyes closed.

That was when the cabinet doors opened.

Terebell Sheratan stared at me. I stared back, paralysed.

Neither of us moved. I waited for her to alert Thuban. My fingers strayed towards the pollen around my neck, but I thought better of it. Even if this vial did somehow hurt Terebell, Thuban would disembowel me.

But Terebell surprised me. Giving me a scathing look, she shut me back into the cabinet.

‘Amaurotic weaponry is unsettling,’ she said in English. ‘Small wonder they destroy one another so often, with minds that can devise such things.’

‘Are we speaking the fell tongue now?’

‘Gomeisa told us to maintain our fluency in English and French. I see no harm in practice.’

‘If you insist upon fouling our mouths.’ Thuban walked across the room, making the floorboards strain. ‘Count the weapons.’

My throat closed.

The pair stayed for a while, taking stock. Terebell either missed that I had taken the knife and the pistol, or simply chose not to remark upon it.

‘I wonder that you would stoop to this work,’ Terebell said. ‘I have not heard of humans stealing from the House in a very long time. What is your fear?’

‘The dreamwalker has sown the first seeds of unrest in our city. It is clear she is a criminal by nature. Suhail foolishly allowed her to overpower him. Next, she burned the Rookery,’ Thuban said, disdain in his tone. ‘You should know better than most that a lack of order is the root of dissent, Terebell. The scars on your back should remind you of that.’

My heart was pounding.

Terebell was one of them.

‘It must be very hard for you to come here,’ Thuban said, softer. ‘Does the bell in Tom Tower ring in your memories?’

Nashira had the perpetrators tortured in the House.

‘I hear you took the palmist there earlier.’ Terebell was good at concealing her emotions, if she had any. ‘You take her there often, Thuban.’

‘What of it?’

‘If she displeases you, there is room for her in Oriel.’

‘No,’ Thuban said. ‘She was part of the syndicate. I will make her speak.’

‘You are not tormenting her simply for information.’

‘That is true. The creature has no pride, no hope. I confess, I enjoy seeing humans that way; I enjoy being the architect of their despair. Do you never wish to punish them?’

‘I was a warrior. I take no pleasure in the suffering of beings weaker than myself.’

‘So you admit they are weaker.’

‘In body. Only a fool would not see it – but they created these weapons,’ Terebell said. ‘They may be frail, but their minds are sharp, inured and primed to violence. One day, they may turn that violence against us. You have seen their methods of torturing each other.’

‘Indeed. I have used them on the palmist.’

‘Yet you underestimate them, as you always have, Thuban.’

‘I disagree,’ Thuban said. ‘Their minds did not save them on that fateful Novembertide.’

I listened, absorbing it all.

Ivy was part of the syndicate. Thuban must be trying to wring her for information about Jaxon. My limbs were beginning to ache, and a rifle was pressing into my back. I froze when something fell off it.

‘Did you hear that?’

‘I hear nothing,’ Terebell said. ‘The stocks are all in order, Thuban.’

Thuban left. Terebell rose next, walking towards the door. When Thuban was at the end of the corridor, I peeked out of the cabinet.

‘You,’ Terebell said, her voice low. ‘Did Arcturus send you?’

‘No. I need a deck of tarot cards,’ I whispered. ‘Where are the numa?’

‘Tom Tower.’

She shut the cabinet on me and left.

That had been the closest shave of my life. Not waiting to question my good fortune, I waited for their dreamscapes to retreat, then slipped out. Terebell had left the door ajar.

I made my escape from the Meadow Building, blood thumping through my veins. Every shadow looked like Thuban. As I ran through a cloister, heading for Tom Quad, I tried to pluck some rational thoughts from my mind.

Terebell had concealed me. She was a scarred one. I needed to find out more about their history, to wrap my head around what was happening – but first I had to break into Tom Tower, grab the goods, and get back to Liss.

Tom Tower, where the scarred ones had been tortured, where Thuban had been hurting Ivy. Going there seemed like a bad idea, but I would do it for Liss.

The House was linked together by a series of closed and open-air passages. They were mostly unlit, which worked in my favour. Feeling like a rat in a maze, I rushed through, securing the straps of the backpack more tightly. I stopped at the edge of Tom Quad, took a deep breath, and broke into a dead run across the grass. As far as I could tell, no one was coming.

Tom Tower loomed above the main entrance to the House. I spotted the narrow archway at once. The door was locked. Taking out my picks, I tried to steady my hands and my breathing. As soon as I was inside, I shot up the steps, hoping no Rephs would appear.

At the top, I found a large chamber. A stained table stood in the middle, with a chair on either side. On this table lay a set of thumbscrews.

Sweat broke out on my forehead. Pushed against one wall, there was another kind of chair, its back and seat and arms lined with spikes, crusted with dried blood. Other instruments hung from the walls.

Warden had been scarred here. Thuban clearly still used it to torment humans, away from prying eyes. Ivy had been with him for months.

The numa filled a chest in the corner. Since they were in a torture chamber, they must be used for cruelty. I thought of the poor cartomancer whose cards had been passed around to be damaged. I caught sight of a shew stone, various sortes – and a single pack of cards, clearly old.

Hardly breathing, I flipped through it, assessing the illustrations. A different design to the one Liss had before, but they could still be used for cartomancy. I fastened the deck into the front pocket of my backpack.

There was another door, probably to the belfry, but I didn’t go through it. This was enough for one night. Looping the straps back over my shoulders, I turned back towards the steps, only to lock gazes with a Reph.

Kraz Sargas blocked the doorway. His orange eyes seemed to smoulder.

‘It has been twenty years,’ he said, ‘since there were traitors in the tower.’

I backed straight into a wall. His dreamscape was so faint, so hard to detect. The Rephs must have some way to cloak themselves in the æther.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said at once. ‘I was looking for medicine.’

‘Indeed, in a building reserved for your betters – though I wonder if you think yourself above us, dreamwalker. Suhail and Aludra certainly believe so.’ He gave me a mock bow. ‘Did Arcturus send you?’

‘No.’

‘So he lets his tenant go wandering off by itself. Nashira will not be pleased.’ He moved towards me. ‘Do sit, 40. I have been craving a word with you.’

‘Which chair?’

‘For now, the one without the spikes.’

With little choice, I did what I was told. Kraz took the opposite seat.

‘Nashira believes that you are the Pale Dreamer,’ he said. ‘Have you worked alongside the White Binder?’

‘I live in his section,’ I said. ‘But I just work as a waitron. Check my record.’

‘This act does not fool me. You chose to hinder the assignment in Trafalgar Square. Thanks to your interference, the Seven Seals escaped. We may never find them again,’ Kraz said. ‘Either you are incompetent, or you helped them leave.’ He leaned towards me. ‘Allow me to explain your situation. Since your keeper clearly has no idea you are here, I can do whatever I wish to you, without his interference.’

There were no spirits in here; nothing I could use to repel him. Kraz tapped the thumbscrews.

‘My cousin does not want us to put your life at risk,’ he said. ‘There are limits to what I can do. But even she would agree that you and your gift will survive a maimed hand.’

‘Arcturus might disagree,’ I said.

‘I do not answer to Arcturus.’

My fear was climbing by the moment. Kraz held out a hand for mine.

I moved without thinking, sprinting for the door.

Kraz caught me at the top of the steps. He picked me up by my coat and smashed me into the wall. My side and ribs screamed in protest; I crumpled to the floor in a heap. Chuckling in that nightmarish way, Kraz grabbed my hair and used it to drag me upright.

‘What do you think resistance will achieve here, dreamwalker?’

‘Don’t touch me,’ I snarled.

‘Arcturus cannot protect you now.’

My right arm was pinned, but my left was free. I stabbed Kraz straight in the eye with my finger. An irritated grunt escaped him, but he didn’t let go.

He shoved me across the room, towards the iron chair. If he forced me into it, all those spikes would cut into my back, my arms, my thighs. It would be agony. In panic, I mustered my gift and went for his dreamscape.

Kraz let go. I blinked away stars and crawled, but Kraz rallied, pinning me to the floor. He was enjoying this too much to remember his orders. His hand closed around my splinted wrist. A cry escaped me as he tightened his grip, making him laugh again. Desperate, I groped for the vial in my gilet. I twisted to face him and smashed it against his cheekbone.

Now it was his turn to scream. He let go of me, his eyes turning white. Gloss ground from his throat, incomprehensible to me, as he rose and made a wild swing. I ducked it.

My palms and face were slick. Even after what I had done to the Underguard on the train, the very crime that had landed me here, I had no idea if I could do this – but I had to try. Kraz would report me to Nashira. If that happened, I would be killed immediately, never mind the Bicentenary. I had got away with making Suhail look a fool, but now I had defied the heir, the sacred blood.

When Kraz pulled his hands away from his face, I knew he was beyond saving. I took out the air pistol and managed to load an acid dart.

I sent it straight into his brow.

Kraz collapsed against the wall, staring into nothing. Within moments, his face became mottled and grey, as if he was decaying before my eyes. As I stared at him, a huge figure appeared in the doorway, and I flinched to face it, eyes wide, instinctively pointing the gun.

‘Warden,’ I said, my voice hoarse. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

‘I could ask the same of you, Paige.’

Warden came to me, only to see Kraz. I watched my keeper consider his choices, his eyes burning with an old grudge. I watched him come to a decision.

He took my hand and led me down the steps of Tom Tower, abandoning the ruin of Kraz Sargas.