His Parting from Her

HIS PARTING FROM HER

Another storm raged in my dreamscape, months after the last – memories pouring unchecked from their places, flowers torn apart by wind.

Outside my ravaged mind, glass now covered the floor of the Guildhall. I still didn’t know how the windows had exploded – only that Warden was still holding me, carrying me away from the chaos. Even in this murky stupor, I knew his aura, the shape of his dreamscape.

For a short while, I could barely remember where I was. A callused hand cupped my cheek. I blinked, trying to make the lines stop blurring.

‘Paige.’

My fingers went to his chest. I was so weary, I could hardly keep my eyes open.

‘Warden,’ I murmured.

‘I have you.’ He brushed a curl out of my eyes. ‘You should not have attempted a second possession. The first display was more than enough.’

‘You knew I was … an opportunist.’

‘I did.’

His arms drew me closer, warming my skin. The poltergeist might not have been able to touch me, but the ethereal skirmish had left a chill.

Warden must be waiting for someone. Given our lack of time, it had to be for a good reason. With no choice but to trust his intentions, I leaned on his chest and checked out for a moment, succumbing to exhaustion – only to jolt awake at the deafening blast of a shotgun.

There had been no shotguns in the House. They were also not standard issue for Vigiles. The one place I had seen one was the black market.

Danica had bought it.

Warden had carried me to the gallery, above the turmoil. Bursts of gunfire lit the ceiling, the sound cutting right through my head. Two hammers drove hot nails into my temples. A drill was boring straight into the bone above one eye, setting off a deep throb. Every faint sound was too much to bear. Even his eyes were a little too bright.

As if he could tell, they dimmed. He hitched me up, so I could lean forward, and helped me stem my fresh nosebleed. From the taste, it was heavy.

‘Help is coming,’ he said, his voice calming me. ‘This pain will not last.’

‘Nashira.’ I forced her name out. ‘Where is she?’

‘For now, she has retreated. She may be trying to save the Residence of the Suzerain.’

I reached out to the æther, to pinpoint her, but my eyes watered in protest.

‘Balliol,’ I said thickly, grasping Warden. ‘Did they—’ He leaned closer to my lips to hear me, and I tried again: ‘Did someone cut the power?’

‘Gail assured me she would. London will not hear of this until it is too late.’ He glanced up. ‘Julian and his allies seem to have done their part. The residences are burning. They have also set bonfires across the city, to further divide attention. Our rebellion has begun, Paige.’

‘Good.’ I kept hold of his sleeve. ‘How long until the train leaves?’

‘Fifty minutes.’

‘Then why … are we still here?’

‘The Vigiles have almost surrounded the Guildhall. Terebell is leading our allies through a secret corridor, but she cannot move too many at once, or our escape route will be spotted.’ Warden ran a hand over my hair. ‘They came for you, Paige. The Seven Seals came.’

Before I could fully absorb this, Liss landed catlike in the gallery, barefoot and dishevelled, cheeks flushed. She rushed straight to my side.

‘Paige—’

She had taken off most of her costume, leaving her in skintight black, her face still flecked with stage blood.

‘Liss,’ I rasped. ‘You need to go.’

‘Not yet.’ She looked at Warden. ‘Are you getting help for her?’

‘Yes. You should make for the meadow as soon as you can, Liss.’

Liss shook her head. ‘Too many people are still trapped in here, and the Vigiles are taking shots while they get the emissaries out. I have to help.’

‘Liss.’ I reached for her. ‘Thank you. For the song.’

‘They deserved to be reminded.’ Liss crouched to press my hand, her grip firm. ‘Get well, Paige. We need you strong.’

She leapt back off the balustrade and caught her purple silks, which now hung almost to the floor. From what I could make out, she and Nell were using them to swing across the hall, distracting the Vigiles.

‘I have to help them,’ I said faintly. ‘I need … my gun. The drop on Bear Lane.’

‘You can retrieve it soon.’

‘Crina is dead.’

‘Michael is leading the amaurotics. We will follow,’ Warden said, ‘but your dreamscape is damaged. You cannot go back to London like this, Paige.’

‘Michael was … meant to get Gail and Faz.’

‘I sent one of my other allies for them.’

Port Meadow was over a mile from the Guildhall. We were going to have to run all the way. With this in mind, I tried to kick off the red shoes of anguish. Noticing my predicament, Warden unbuckled them for me.

Only a few candles lit the gallery. The pendant caught their light, a cool weight on my neckline. Warden watched my face, clasping my cold fingers to his chest. Their tips and nailbeds had turned a purplish grey.

Another pair of gunshots rang out from below. When I opened my eyes again, a vicious light scalded them. I tried to block it, my head in agony.

‘Paige.’ A hand in a tactical glove clasped my shoulder. ‘Paige, it’s me. It’s Nick.’

Nick had a ski mask on, but I knew his voice, his aura. He wore a winter boiler suit, like an engineer.

‘Nick,’ I whispered. ‘You found me.’

‘I told you I would.’

‘Vision, we have to go, right now,’ Nadine said from the balustrade, holding a pistol. ‘We can treat her when we get back to London.’

As she spoke, she made a precise shot. I distantly sensed a dreamscape wink out.

‘It could be too late by then.’ The light gleamed back into my eyes, and a hand took mine. ‘Cyanosis, and no pupil response. She’s not doing well.’

‘You said cyanosis was normal for her.’

‘She has it persistently in her lips. Now it’s in her fingers, too.’ Nick breathed in. ‘She needs more oxygen. Fury has the mask.’

‘I’ll get it.’

Nadine swung a leg over the balustrade. I watched her drop out of sight.

Another blackout. When I stirred, there was something fastened over my nose and mouth. I recognised the smell of it. Someone was feeding me extra oxygen. Nick cradled me in the crook of his arm, keeping the mask cupped over my mouth. I breathed deep, heavy-eyed.

Warden was gone. I looked for him in the dark, my chest heaving. Instead, two covered faces hovered above me.

‘It’s not working.’ Nick sounded grim. ‘She’s pushed herself too hard.’

‘Our train will not wait, Vision.’ The other voice had an edge. ‘Drag her if you must. I will not be left here when it proceeds to London.’

‘Jax, I think she’s dying.’

‘Save her, then. Aren’t you a medic?’

Just then, Warden returned. He knelt beside me and looked at Nick.

‘Paige was attacked by four spirits, controlled by a binder of exceptional strength. I suspect they have damaged the barrier of her dreamscape. Her overuse of her gift has not helped,’ he said. ‘I have a remedy.’

‘Excuse me,’ Jaxon said icily. ‘Nobody – including you, whatever you are – will be feeding poison to my dreamwalker without my express permission.’

Warden ignored him, which I would have found mildly funny if I hadn’t been an inch from death. Nick looked at me, then at Jaxon.

‘This remedy,’ he said. ‘What is it?’

‘Explaining it to you would take some time. It will mend the injury, but only if I act now.’ Warden glanced up. ‘If you do not wish to lose Paige, you will not stand in my way, Jaxon.’

‘How do—’ Jaxon collected himself, but his eyes remained wide and fixed, his nostrils flared. ‘Very well. If you insist upon frittering our time away, try whatever potion you like.’ He checked his pocket watch. ‘During this century, if you please. Our window of escape is closing.’

Nick patted my cheek. ‘Paige,’ he said in a soft voice, ‘this man says he can help you. We don’t have much time to decide. Do you trust him?’

Trust. A small flower on the edge of my perception, beckoning me into a different world – a different, safer life, before the poppy field.

‘Yes,’ I said.

Pleione was standing behind Warden. He took a vial from her – another gilded vial of amaranth. The scarred ones must have been stockpiling it.

He placed one drop under my nose, and two more on my temples, just as he had with Liss. Tipping up my chin, he helped me take a sip. It tasted sweet, and warmed my throat on its way down. Distantly, I thought of that book of myths, which spoke of a nectar drunk by the gods. A nectar that healed wounds and sickness.

And I wondered if all our stories – tales of deathless gods and giants – might have roots in the Netherworld.

Little by little, the agony subsided, tears of relief washing my cheeks. The tension in my neck unwound. I could sense the amaranth working like drops of water on my poppies, quenching and soothing.

‘Paige.’ Warden sought my gaze. ‘Hearken to me. Come back.’

I blinked several times.

‘I haven’t a clue what hearken means,’ I informed him. ‘But I’m back.’

His eyes glowed.

‘Paige.’ Nick bundled me straight into his arms. He was shaking. ‘You’re okay.’

‘I don’t understand.’ I clutched his back. ‘Nick, you can’t be here. Your job—’

‘Dani got us on to the train. I’ll explain in London.’ He got me to my feet, to the stairs. The Rephs followed. ‘Hurry. We don’t have long.’

The Guildhall was in disarray. Radmilo Arežina had been shot in the chest, and now bled on the floor. One of the Greek officials was already dead, her eyes open and dull, observed by her own spirit.

We had agreed that none of the emissaries should be harmed, allowing them to return to London with doubts about the Rephs. Either someone had gone rogue, or the Vigiles had been hitting their own. I couldn’t blame anyone for losing it. These people were the architects of voyants’ misery, sending us to our deaths by the thousand.

Most of the Rephs had vanished. The Vigiles were helping the surviving emissaries out of the main doors, taking potshots at the rest of us. I could already see their plan. Once their employers were safely out, they would lock us in and burn this building to the ground.

Scion could not allow us to escape. If we did, we would be loose cannons, armed with the knowledge of the truth behind the anchor. We would all be witnesses – but not the kind they wanted to be left alive.

On the lower floor, Danica and Nadine were returning fire, using the pillars for cover, both in the same woollen masks and boiler suits as Nick. We had precious few weapons in the gang, but everything we did have, they must have brought with them.

Seeing us, Nadine detached a small grenade from her belt. It was a modern one, which meant it had been expensive. She pulled the pin, switching on its red warning light, and hurled it towards the doors.

The Vigiles fell back, shouting to one another. The explosion blew the doors off their hinges, giving us enough cover to sprint across the hall. One amaurotic used the opportunity to flee, only to be gunned down on Magdalen Walk.

‘Paige.’ Nadine wrenched me behind a pillar. ‘Are you all right now?’

‘I can reach the train.’ I gripped her shoulder. ‘Thanks for coming.’

‘You are not welcome. We expected a jailbreak, not … whatever this is.’ She reloaded her pistol. ‘What the hell is going on here, Paige?’

‘Long story. Warden, where do we go?’

Nadine did a double take when she saw Warden, her eyes widening.

‘The way out is through the trap room,’ Warden said. ‘Paige, you should avoid using your gift. The amaranth will take some time to heal you.’

I nodded, stoking the lingering ache in my temples. My best weapon against Rephs, and I would have to keep it holstered. Just my luck.

‘Quite an entrance you made there,’ I said to Nadine, who huffed a laugh.

‘You know Jaxon loves theatre. And he didn’t take kindly to Scion using you as a soldier.’ She leaned out to shoot a Vigile. ‘Ready to go?’

‘Absolutely.’

Nadine lobbed a second grenade before she came after me, followed by some of the performers from the masque. Zeke joined us, grasping my arm in a wordless greeting. Liss landed on the chandelier.

‘Liss,’ I shouted up to her. ‘Liss, come on, let’s go!’

‘I still need to get Lotte,’ Liss called back. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’

Before I could answer, a Vigile fired at us from the entrance. Zeke slammed me to the floor just in time. As we took cover behind a mecks fountain, bullets chipped at the floor and walls, and shattered a few glasses.

Liss saw. Using her silks like a trapeze, she soared down and kicked the Vigile in the chest, hard enough that he fell back in surprise, even with his armour. Seizing her chance, Nell abandoned her own silks and dashed after us, clearly exhausted. I pushed her after the others.

At the entrance to the trap room, Warden held the heavy drape so we could all pass. Jaxon shoved a dazed Cyril aside to go down the steps first. I ushered Cyril in front of me before I went myself, with Warden and Pleione bringing up the rear.

We filed after Danica, who had a headlamp on. I caught up with her.

‘Dani,’ I said. ‘I hear I owe you for this rescue.’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You know, none of this would have happened if you had not insisted on taking a weekend off.’ She checked her watch. ‘The train will leave at midnight. There is no way to delay it. Can you make it?’

‘I can try.’

As we crossed the trap room, Terebell arrived, back from guiding another group. She showed us to a gap in a wall, one I would never have seen in the dark. Nadine went first, turning sideways to edge through.

Jaxon went next. Just as I was following, Lotte caught up with us. She tripped on her bootlaces, still in her bloody skirts from the masque.

‘Lotte, over here.’ I flashed a torch. ‘Where’s Liss?’

‘She covered me.’ Lotte reached us, breathless. ‘She’s coming, Paige.’

‘She’ll be fine. She always is,’ Nell said. ‘Just show us where to go.’

But now I was concentrating on the æther, and my blood was turning cold. Every remaining dreamscape in the main hall had just disappeared.

All except for Liss, and she was very still.

I ran back to the steps. Jaxon called after me: ‘And you are going where, darling?’

‘Just get to the train, Jaxon,’ I snapped.

At the top of the stairs, I stopped, chills racing up my arms. The Vigiles had retreated, leaving the doors wide open, letting in an icy wind from outside. More of the candles had blown out. By the light of the very few that remained, I saw the shape on the floor.

‘No.’

The word escaped me before I accepted what I was sensing. I rushed towards the heap of fabric, using her dreamscape as my guide, and sank to my knees beside it.

This could not be Liss.

Liss never fell.

Yet these were her silks, recognisable by their rich soothsayer purple. The only pride they had ever allowed her. With shaking hands, I searched the silks until I uncovered her face.

Liss lay quiet. As I lifted her lolling head into the crook of my arm, my fingers sank into her wet and tangled hair.

‘Liss.’ My voice sounded nothing like mine, thin and unsteady. ‘Liss?’

She cracked her eyes open, just a little. Her lips formed a tiny smile when she saw me.

‘Funny,’ she said. ‘I never fall.’

‘You didn’t fall. You just … needed a little rest. Now you need to get up.’

‘No.’ Liss drew a laboured breath, lashes fluttering. ‘The æther warned me. In August, I drew two cards for myself. One was the Tower. The other was … Fortitude. I’m glad I still chose Fortitude.’

The Tower, the card of change and destruction. It showed two people falling to their deaths from a great height. Sometimes the æther sent complex riddles.

Sometimes it could be plain as a picture.

‘That’s the problem with … seeing the future. I told you and Jules that knowledge is dangerous.’

‘No,’ I said, my jaw trembling. ‘Liss, I told you I’m getting you out of here. We’re going to London, and then I’m going to take you back to Inverness. We’ll find that beautiful clearing, the one in your dreamscape. You’ll be safe in the Highlands.’

Even as I spoke, tears were dropping down my cheeks. My fingers had found the back of her skull, the place the blood was flowing thick.

‘Nick,’ I screamed over my shoulder. ‘Nick!’

Liss gazed at the ceiling. I could sense her silver cord, frail as a cobweb, thinning. This could not happen – not to her, after everything.

Nick rushed to my side, holding a torch. When he shone it across the scene, I saw the spreading pool of blood. He did his gentle checks before he shook his head at me. I swallowed against the knot in my throat.

Perhaps he could have saved her life, if there had been a hospital – but if Nick couldn’t help Liss now, no one could.

‘You already brought me back once, Paige,’ Liss said. ‘You have to live. For the last card.’ A tear ran down her cheek. ‘It’s all right. You can leave me.’

‘No,’ I whispered. ‘You never left me.’

Liss moved her hand, and I took it. She drew one more rattling breath before her fingers loosened. Her spirit rose, a kite cut from its line, drifting into the æther. I clasped her body close, numb to my core.

‘You should say the threnody,’ Nick murmured. ‘I don’t know her name, sötnos.’

He was right. Liss wouldn’t want to stay here, in her prison.

‘Liss Rymore, be gone into the æther. All is settled. All debts are paid.’ My voice was shaking. ‘You need not dwell among the living now.’

Her spirit disappeared.

I lowered her with care. This was no longer Liss – just the shell of her, an empty house that would grow cold. Liss was on her way to the outer darkness, where no one would ever be able to imprison her again.

‘Paige.’ Nick placed a hand on my back. ‘I didn’t know Liss, but I’m sure she wouldn’t have wanted you to give up. We have to go now.’

‘I think not.’

I knew that voice. Now the candles had gone out, I couldn’t see Gomeisa Sargas, but his words resonated. Even the walls seemed to magnify them.

‘Gomeisa,’ I said. ‘Did you do this?’

The silence was damning.

I looked up. Liss had not fallen. Both of her silks had been physically ripped, right below their rig – a straight cut, almost impossibly so.

A low voice came from behind me: ‘You should not hide in the shadows, Gomeisa.’

I looked back over my shoulder, my cheeks damp. Warden had returned to the hall, and his gaze was fixed on the gallery.

‘Unless you fear Paige,’ he continued. ‘None of us could blame you for it. Beyond these walls, your city burns. Your façade of power is already dissolving – you who stole that power unjustly, long ago.’

‘We have not forgotten,’ Pleione said.

‘I do not fear the amaranth, nor these emissaries of Scion. They handed their world to us on a platter,’ Gomeisa said. ‘One night of fire will not break our reign.’

‘I’d tell you to go to hell.’ I rose. ‘But I’d say we’re already there.’

‘Indeed. Hell is for the dead, and we are death incarnate, 40. Where blood flows through your body, the æther itself is coursing in mine. Tell me, what fire can scald the sun? Who can drown the ocean?’

Gomeisa was walking along the gallery, his footsteps loud. Behind Warden, one of the newly arrived Rephs had appeared, along with Terebell.

‘I would like you all to reflect on our situation. Especially you, Arcturus,’ Gomeisa said. I could see him now, a silhouette in the gallery. ‘Given what you have to lose.’

Warden came to stand beside me. When he saw Liss, his eyes darkened.

‘He killed her,’ I whispered.

‘I want you to picture a butterfly,’ Gomeisa said. ‘Behold its ornate wings. See how it helps flowers to grow – graceful and beloved.’ He ran his gloved hand along the balustrade. ‘Now I want you to imagine a moth. It takes the same shape, but humans spurn it for its dullness; how it feeds on dust and rot.’

‘Maybe you’re the moths,’ I said. ‘You’re the ones who come out at night.’

‘A flawed comparison, to be sure. But your ancestors knew the difference,’ Gomeisa said. ‘They saw in us a greater rendering of themselves – divine beings, stronger and wiser. They gave us your world out of respect for the natural order. Moths, after all, cannot rule themselves. They see a fire and fly to it, unable to separate it from the sun. That is how we see your world, Paige Mahoney. A box of moths, just waiting to be burned.’

His dreamscape was in range. I readied my spirit, not caring how much damage it would do.

‘The Sargas family is your sun,’ Gomeisa said. ‘Let us be your guiding light.’

Before I could jump, Warden grasped my shoulder. His glove was back in place. ‘We can distract him,’ he said quietly. ‘Get to the meadow.’

‘He has to pay for this.’ My nose bled again, pressure building. ‘He can’t just—’

‘This is not one of your street brawls, dreamwalker. You cannot avenge your friend this night, but there will be others.’ Pleione never took her eyes off the enemy. ‘Go to the meadow. Ours is an old battle.’

Gomeisa was on our level now. When I saw his eyes – a rich purple, more red than blue – my stomach turned, my anger flaring. He must have fed on Liss as she was lying there.

‘If you survive this night, you will come to realise it was not so terrible here, 40,’ he said. ‘We offered you our sanctuary and wisdom. You were not unnatural here – lower, yes, but acknowledged. Here, you have learned to master your gift.’ He held out a hand. ‘The Sargas family is merciful. Even your allies know this. Arcturus betrayed us once, yet Nashira still allowed him to remain as blood-consort, respected.’

Nick was retreating towards the trap room. I glanced at the clock on the wall.

It was now or never.

‘I urge you not to risk Gallows Wood,’ Gomeisa said as I backed away. ‘It is an orchard of death, sown with mines. If they do not kill you, the Emim will – and we cannot allow you to waste your gift, a gift we had thought lost. Come back to the fold. This is your last chance.’

He knew his twisted logic well. The Rephs had relied on it for two centuries, using it to tempt the weak.

Pleione ran towards Gomeisa. Terebell and Warden went after her, both gathering spools. Nick seized the opportunity to tug me towards the trap room, but I hardly felt it. All I could feel was the æther.

The Rephs met in a great clash, like bells slamming together, making the planes of being ring. They fought not with guns or swords, but with the dead as their weapons. Each flex of muscle, each turn and step, sent a shockwave across the æther. They were dancing on the edge of life – a dance of giants, the danse macabre.

The spirits of the Bone Season still lingered in the hall. Terebell sent a spool weaving around the pillars – thirty spirits, all spinning and rising together, converging on Gomeisa. I waited for the blow to fall. By now, Nick was transfixed as well.

With a sweep of his hand, Gomeisa shattered the spool. Like glass shards from a mirror, spirits burst across the hall. As I watched, Terebell went flying into a wall, Pleione into a pillar. When the Reph I didn’t recognise charged, Gomeisa simply cut his hand upward. The motion flung his attacker on to the stage. The boards splintered under his weight, sending him into the trap room.

Gomeisa could use apport. For all intents and purposes, that made him a living poltergeist, able to move objects – and people – from a distance. My heart thundered as his gaze turned on me.

Warden stepped between us. He faced his enemy, unarmed and unarmoured.

‘Always a slave to the past, Arcturus,’ Gomeisa said. ‘Always last to give up.’

‘Go, Paige,’ Warden said. ‘Do not linger.’

I only hesitated for a moment. If Gomeisa threw me, I would not get back up, unlike Terebell and Pleione. A human was no match for that power.

Warden gave me a nod. For as long as I could feel the golden cord, he would be able to find me. At last, I let Nick pull me away, towards the stage.

Halfway there, a hand wrapped around my ankle, almost tripping me. I looked down to see a young Scion emissary, bleeding from a deep gash in his neck, which he was trying to stem with a handkerchief.

‘You,’ he rasped. ‘You’re the dreamwalker.’ His eyes were bloodshot. ‘Listen … to me.’

‘Paige, come on,’ Nick said, but the man refused to let go. I didn’t recognise him. Someone of low rank. A clerk or administrator in the Archon, not the sort of person to appear on ScionEye.

‘Bone Seasons,’ the emissary rattled. ‘This goes deeper than you know. Some of you … eat your own.’ His cough spattered the floor with blood. ‘Find … Rackham. He is the one … who hunts. Find him.’

With those words, he slumped to the floor. I exchanged a shaken look with Nick.

Zeke had come back to cover us. I shoved the words and the name from my head. As we made a break for our exit, Zeke threw a flashing canister behind us. Thick white smoke billowed from inside, and the four Rephs vanished into it. So did all that remained of Liss Rymore.

Through the darkness of the trap, where the fifth Reph was recovering from his fall. Into the hidden opening. Along a corridor, then into a small room. Nick guided us with his torch until we burst into the night, taking a few steps down to Fish Street.

In the morning, I would grieve for Liss. For now, I had to save the others. She would have wanted that. All of us had been her family.

The city reeked of smoke. The sky was dirty red, the streets hazy. The residences might be made of stone, but their contents were flammable, and Julian and the others must have set plenty of bonfires.

Every bell was ringing, the old siren droning out from the Broad. I had never heard so much sound in this city. The bells were the amaurotics’ signal that all the buildings had been opened. Every prisoner could flee.

Warden had been right to warn me. As I tried to extend my perception to locate Julian or Michael, I could feel that my dreamscape was too fragile to withstand the pressure. I was going to have to rely on just five of my senses.

Nick looked at the unfamiliar city, exchanging a silent look with Zeke. ‘Jax led us,’ he told me. ‘What’s the fastest way to Port Meadow?’

‘I need my gun first.’

We had emerged at the back of the Guildhall. I led them a short way to Bear Lane, where I retrieved my air pistol, loaded a windflower dart, and laced on my boots. Finally, I grabbed my backpack, which Michael had filled with provisions, including a flare gun. Nick wrapped his coat over my dress before I put the backpack on.

‘Eliza,’ I said to them, hitching up its straps a little. ‘Where is she?’

‘She stayed in London.’

We ran on to Fish Street. I had memorised every possible route to Port Meadow. Now the Guildhall was fully evacuated, the Scion emissaries were fleeing, trailing Vigiles. My instincts told me to take the safest way, but speed was of the essence. Nick and Zeke followed me without question, on to the cobbles of Cornmarket.

The Rephs had their hands full with the fires. This was the only home they had, and it was burning. As we emerged at the end of the Broad, a scream reached my ears, and I saw Nell, restrained by two familiar Rephs.

‘Your first pitiful rebellion failed, and so will this,’ Merope said, pulling her towards the nearest building. ‘Do you think you threaten us, 9?’

‘Get your hands off me!’ Nell was kicking and twisting for all she was worth. ‘You are never feeding on me again. I’d rather die than—’

Her screams were cut short when Merope clapped a hand over her mouth. I wavered, then broke away from Nick and Zeke and sprinted towards Nell.

‘Paige,’ Nick bellowed.

I steadied my aim and shot Merope. The dart struck her arm, and I knew the needle would be piercing its cap, driving the mixture into her body.

Merope had not been expecting a human to deal any real damage. She plucked the dart out, but the windflower was in her blood. When she felt it, her tawny eyes flickered. Like Kraz, she let out a discordant sound and fell as if her bones had melted.

I grinned in triumph. While I loaded another dart, Nell hurled a spool at a surprised Aludra, who grabbed her by the wrist.

Cursing in Swedish, Nick covered Nell with a few rounds from his old rifle, hitting Aludra until she let go. Nell lunged away from her, almost falling.

‘Paige,’ she called, ‘did Liss make it?’

‘Just go, Nell!’

Aludra glanced at the bullet holes in her jerkin with irritation, as if Nick had used a toy gun. Nell snatched her supplies and sprinted north.

‘There you are,’ Aludra said to me. ‘I still owe you for your display in the chapel.’

I took aim at her. ‘Sure you want me to dent the family pride again, Aludra?’

Without a word, she drew a blade. In unison, Zeke and Nick opened fire on her. It slowed her approach, but she kept coming. She must have stewing in hatred for months, waiting for a shot at me. Rephs had plenty of time to nurture their grudges.

Nick ran out of bullets. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and extended a hand towards her. The æther hummed as he sent a vision.

‘An oracle,’ Aludra observed. ‘It has been some time since I fed on your kind.’

Her eyes changed.

Nick dropped his gun in shock, blood seeping into his tear ducts, the cords in his neck straining out.

‘Nick,’ Zeke said, grasping his shoulder. Nick gripped his knees, trying to hold himself upright. ‘Paige, what is she doing to him?’

‘I destroyed your heir, Aludra. I’ve just done the same to Merope,’ I warned. ‘Don’t think I won’t do the same to you. Back off, and I won’t shoot.’

‘We can recover from the pollen,’ Aludra said. ‘Did the concubine give it to you?’

‘Warden did.’

‘So he betrays his own kind yet again. The blood-sovereign should never have pardoned him,’ she said. ‘The Sargas may forgive, but do not think you can insult the Chertan and escape with your life, 40.’

She ran at me. With my hands raw with cold and my senses unbalanced, I missed, sending the precious dart into the night. Nick reloaded and fired just in time, and Aludra buckled, riddled with bullets. I reached into my backpack for another dart, but Zeke pulled me away.

‘We have to move, Paige,’ he said, his voice muffled. ‘What are these things?’

‘Rephs,’ I said. ‘All you need to know is that they’re strong as rocks, feed on aura, and don’t take kindly to humans. Best practice is just to run.’

‘What did you shoot at them?’

‘Pollen,’ I said, earning a bewildered look. ‘How long do we have left?’

‘I’d stop asking,’ Nick said. We broke into a run. ‘You won’t like the answer.’

Once we were past the Broad, we saw no more Rephs. They must be trying to round up the arsonists. I hoped Julian was heading for the meadow.

We passed Amaurotic House, which was unlocked, and took a left into the ghost town. At the end of the street, a figure came racing towards us. I caught him by his red tunic and slammed him into the wall.

‘Going somewhere, Carl?’

‘Get off me!’ Carl was drenched in sweat. ‘You’ve killed us all. We have to hide. The Rephs will let them into the city any moment now.’

‘Who?’

‘The Buzzers,’ Carl shouted, his breath fluttering white. ‘You’ve broken their trust in us. They’ll do what they did last time we rebelled!’

‘We accounted for that, you fool. The Rephs won’t kill the emissaries.’

‘You poisoned the others. I can’t fight by myself.’ He shoved at me, almost in tears. ‘I knew there was something wrong with the soup. This place is all I’ve got in the world. You are not taking it, Paige—’

‘Come on,’ Zeke urged.

‘Carl, there’s a world beyond Scion. I know,’ I said tightly. ‘I came from it.’

‘Even outside Scion, people will never accept us when they understand what we are. We’re freaks,’ Carl said, his cheeks flushed. ‘That’s why we need the Rephs. Because they’re like us, and they get it. This is the only place that’s safe for voyants. I’m never going out there again, so you can keep your precious world. You’re welcome to it!’

He shoved me off and bolted. Nick watched him go, lowering his gun.

‘You’ve got a long story to tell when we get home.’

I nodded. ‘Let’s keep going.’

‘Yes,’ Zeke said, running again. ‘Come on. We can make it.’

I expected a fight before this was over. Our enemies must be hot on our heels, and clearly not every red-jacket had taken our concoction. When I heard an explosion in the distance, I glanced back.

Warden had told me that Rephs were vulnerable to blast injuries. An explosion at close range wouldn’t kill them, but it would hurt.

Port Meadow was close now. When we reached the short bridge on Ironwork Street, Nick slung his rifle across his back and swung his legs over the wall. Zeke dropped first, into the overgrowth under the bridge.

‘Nick,’ I said, ‘where the hell are you going?’

‘To meet the others. Come on.’

He jumped down before I could ask, landing in a crouch. Just as I was about to follow, the golden cord gave a tug. I turned to see Warden.

‘There you are.’ I released my breath. ‘Did you beat Gomeisa?’

‘For now. Paige, time is very short,’ Warden told me. ‘The Sargas and their loyalists will be following any stragglers. We should not tarry here.’

‘I know, Nick was just—’ I blew out, my breath clouding. ‘I don’t know what they’re playing at, but I need to get them. Will I meet you there?’

‘No. I will wait,’ Warden said. ‘The entrance is not far into the meadow.’

He still needed me to front this. Steeling myself, I cleared the brick wall and jumped from the low bridge, heading for the pool of torchlight.

Danica was squatting beside an open hatch. It must have been hidden deep in the weeds, or I would have noticed it. Over my first couple of months in this city, I had searched long and hard for an escape.

‘Quickly, darling.’ Jaxon pointed his cane at the hatch. ‘Down you go.’

‘What?’

‘This is a maintenance shaft. It will take us straight to the tracks,’ Danica said. ‘We can use it to slip back on to the train and seal ourselves in the rear compartment. The Scion guests will have no idea we are there.’

‘I agreed to meet the other prisoners on Port Meadow. There’s an entrance there, too.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Danica said impatiently. ‘That leads to the station the emissaries will be using.’

‘They aren’t getting back on the train,’ I said. ‘We’re taking the whole thing.’

‘What?’

‘I’m not leaving anyone behind.’

There was a strained hush before Jaxon marched towards me. He pulled off his mask and hood, rumpling his hair. His appearance shocked me into silence – dark circles under his eyes, a sheen to his white skin, pupils down to pinpricks. Jaxon Hall was never stressed enough to break a sweat.

‘You have been away for some time, Dreamer,’ he said, low and cold, ‘so I will forgive this sudden display of idiocy. But enough is enough.’

‘Jaxon—’

‘I have spent a great deal of time and coin on this little extraction. Danica and Nick have both risked the careers that help sustain our enterprise. We are the dominant gang of I-4, not a charity for the poor and needy.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘I came here for my dreamwalker, not to adopt the great unwashed.’

Even knowing Jaxon as I did, his tone hit me like a punch to the chest. I looked at him as if for the first time. A man on the edge, all his focus on himself and his own. He expected me to abandon the others.

‘Jaxon,’ I said hotly, ‘they’re voyants—’

‘A rabble of the lowest sort, along with some amaurotics, of all things. What do you expect they’ll do to earn their keep in London, Paige?’

Liss on the floor, bleeding from her cracked skull. The first card in the tarot, and somehow I still wound up at the bottom of the pile.

‘I appreciate the rescue,’ I whispered, ‘but I already had an exit plan in place.’ I forced myself to sound calm and reasonable, even as my voice shook. ‘You stick to yours, Jaxon. I’ll meet you on the train.’

Jaxon grasped my nape, hard enough to hurt.

‘Paige,’ he said, ‘are you disobeying me?’

Suddenly I was almost eighteen, and his temper had fallen on me for the first time. I went limp, like a rabbit faced with a fox – playing dead, curling small.

‘If we take the entire train,’ Jaxon said, ‘and you fill it with however many scores of imbeciles you want to drag back to London, Scion will notice us.’

‘We killed the power. London doesn’t know.’

‘More idiocy.’ His grip on my neck tightened. ‘Has captivity made you stupid, Paige?’

Warden had moved as soon as Jaxon laid a hand on me. Now he strode towards us from the bridge. I willed him to stop, and he did, eyes ablaze.

‘Let me use small words for you.’ Jaxon spoke to me slowly, as my teachers often had at school. ‘Six stowaways is one thing. We can slip out of the train, just as we slipped in. But do you really think that you can drag a horde back to a guarded station and pass unseen in Westminster?’

‘Let go of her, Jax,’ Nick said.

‘Okay, I’m leaving.’ Danica entered the shaft. ‘Nick, take my gun, if you want.’

Jaxon was ignoring them all. Our gazes locked fast. My cheeks burned, the humiliation worse for knowing that Warden was hearing all this.

‘If you do anything more to compromise this endeavour – the endeavour to rescue you, I might add,’ Jaxon said, ‘there will be consequences. You may have claimed a little independence here, but it is time to remember your place. If not, you will find yourself quite alone.’

The same threat he had made to Nadine. This was the Jaxon Hall I feared, the man who all but owned my life. My only chance at belonging.

What he was saying made sense – six of us were more likely to escape on the other side. I could go down this hatch and be done with it. The emissaries would eventually get back on the train, taking us with them.

Not so long ago, I would have done it, because there had been no one in my life outside the syndicate. Now there were people counting on me. Warden was still waiting. I saw myself as if from a distance, caught by the scruff of my neck like a kitten. Once, a clear threat to banish me from the underworld would have had me whimpering for mercy.

I would not beg for anything now.

‘I’ll take my chances,’ I said. ‘I quit.’

Jaxon tilted his head, dangerously. Zeke looked as if he might pass out on my behalf.

‘What,’ Jaxon said, ‘did you just say, Paige?’

The words had come out of my head, then. I was turning numb, down to my fingertips.

‘You heard me,’ I said, trying to make my voice stronger. ‘If you won’t let me go to Port Meadow and still work for you, I quit. See you down there, Jax.’

With that, I started towards Warden.

‘No one walks away from me, Pale Dreamer,’ Jaxon said, stopping me. ‘If I can’t have you, no one does. I will ensure you never work in the syndicate again. You will be discarded goods, exiled from the underworld. Who else but me would dare succour an Irish fugitive?’

‘Oh, get fucked, you stretched weasel.’ I spun to face him again, unleashing all my bottled anger. ‘I’m meant to be your mollisher, your second. If you won’t let me speak my mind, I may as well stay here. I joined you so I could be myself, Jaxon. I refuse to be less, even for you.’

This time, his silence was even more frightening. When I turned my back on him again, he said nothing. None of the others followed me.

Warden gave me a boost on to the bridge, making a step with his clasped hands, then joined me. I drew my gun as we pressed on to Port Meadow.

‘Paige,’ Warden said.

‘Don’t.’ I loaded another dart, my breath shaking. ‘I just threw my life away. Now I have no power to help the others in London. I’ve sold them a lie.’

‘Wait, Paige!’

I turned. Nick and Zeke had just hoisted themselves on to the bridge. A few moments later, Nadine clambered after them. No sign of Jaxon.

‘He can’t fire all four of us,’ Nick said firmly, once they caught up. ‘Come on. We’ll cover you.’

I looked between them, afraid to believe it. ‘You’re sure?’

‘Apparently,’ Nadine said, ‘but we have less than twenty minutes to get there. And the stretched weasel might still come after us with his cane.’

‘No,’ Nick said. ‘Jax will save his own skin. The shaft is the safest way.’

‘And we’ve picked the dangerous one. I love this job.’ Nadine snapped a new magazine into her pistol. ‘Where are we going, Dreamer?’

Port Meadow was dark, except for the sally port, flanked by lanterns. Oliver and Emil – the brothers who had attacked me in June – were out cold beside it.

Michael waited beside them, along with a large group of amaurotics, some performers, and one thin palmist in a white tunic. She was gaunt and shivering, her dark hair freshly shaved against her skull.

‘Ivy.’ I approached her first. ‘Are you okay?’

She nodded. ‘One of the amaurotics let me out of Corpus.’

‘I’m glad you made it.’ I looked at the drawn faces around me. ‘Has anyone seen Julian?’

No one answered. Nick regarded Ivy with concern.

‘If Julian has been killed or captured, his allies may not know where to go,’ Warden said. ‘I believe there was a flare gun hidden on Bear Lane.’

‘Paige,’ one of the performers said, ‘why is he here?’

‘He’s on our side.’ I looked back at Warden. ‘A flare will attract the Vigiles.’

‘They will be coming here either way, to take the train to London,’ Warden said. ‘The emissaries will not want to be stranded in a burning city.’

He had a point.

Julian Amesbury had been my unwavering ally from the first night to the last. The thought of leaving without him was more than I could stomach. He knew where to go, but if he was dead or detained, he would want me to help the people who had been relying on him to lead them.

I took the flare gun from my backpack and loaded it, then found a point above the meadow, cocked the hammer, and fired. The military flare shot into the clear sky, where it erupted into red brilliance.

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Let’s move.’

Warden went first, opening the sally port. I stepped right over Oliver.

Nick and Zeke lit our path. As we followed Warden, I tried to ignore the roil in my gut. I had just thrown away my job, my security. Not only that, but I had insulted Jaxon.

If I stuck to my guns, he would ensure that no other mime-queen or mime-lord would hire me. And if I did survive the night, Scion would hunt me for the rest of my life. I needed protection. I needed my gang.

Who else but me would dare succour an Irish fugitive?

I couldn’t think about it now. Instead, I sent up another flare, replacing the one that had just sputtered out. The red glow illuminated the whole meadow. Behind us, a few more humans had reached the sally port. With the help of the amaranth, I forced my perception a little farther.

At once, I sensed far older dreamscapes.

‘Rephs,’ I barked. ‘Move it!’

Without question, everyone sped up, Michael pulling Ivy along with him. Our boots pounded on the hard earth, but the Rephs were hot on our heels, faster than us. Nadine drew a knife, and we both turned, me pointing the flare gun. It might set fire to their clothes, at least.

‘Warden, keep going,’ I urged him. ‘Get them to the station!’ I looked at Nadine. ‘A knife won’t do much. Use your gun and don’t hold back.’

She switched to her pistol. When the Rephs came near enough to see, I recognised Terebell and Pleione, the former carrying a coughing Jos, and grabbed Nadine by the wrist. Felix was just behind them, as was a tall male Reph, one of the visitors to the city.

‘Jos,’ I said, relieved. Terebell lowered him to the grass. ‘Go on, follow Warden.’ I steered him north. ‘Felix, do you know where Julian is?’

‘No. We got separated near Balliol.’ Felix reeked of smoke, and his black hair was now grey with ashes. ‘He’s not going to make it, Paige.’

‘Just go with Jos.’ I ushered him that way. ‘Terebell, was one of you meant to get Faz and Gail?’

‘I was,’ the newcomer confirmed. ‘They chose to remain at Magdalen.’

‘They can’t,’ I said, shaken. ‘Nashira will think they helped us plot this.’

‘We will do all we can to save any humans who do not reach the train before it leaves,’ Terebell said. ‘I give you my word, 40.’

I would have to trust her. There was no time for me to go back and convince Gail and Fazal, or to search for Julian. If I stayed here, the performers and amaurotics would have nowhere to turn in London.

‘Warden said you wanted to fight for the city,’ I said. ‘Why are you here?’

‘We are not bound for London,’ Pleione said. ‘We came only to bring your friends. Now we intend to launch our attack on the Residence of the Suzerain. Nashira has locked herself inside.’

‘Please,’ I said, ‘if you can, find Julian. He’s the reason we got here.’

‘We shall try.’

Just as quickly as they had come, the Rephs were gone, heading for the sally port. I exchanged a nod with Nadine, and we sprinted after Warden.

Julian wasn’t going to reach the train. It killed me to keep going.

Ahead, Warden had stopped, as had the others. Halfway to his location, I glimpsed a pair of performers from the masque, locked in an argument.

‘You two,’ I called as I passed. ‘Come on. What the hell are you doing?’

‘You’re working with the Rephs,’ the man snapped, his voice embittered. ‘This could be a trap.’

‘You want to risk the minefield instead?’

‘Paige, come on,’ Nadine burst out. ‘If we miss this train, I will kill you.’

Leaving the performers to decide, I kept running, hoping they came to their senses.

We passed the frozen pool, the watchtower, the training grounds where Merope had drilled me. Warden waited near a corner of the ethereal fence, beside an iron hatch, much larger than the one Danica had opened. The survivors were huddled around it.

‘The entrance to the station is here,’ Warden said. ‘But we face an unexpected obstacle.’

‘That isn’t what I wanted to hear.’ I caught my breath. ‘Where are the guards?’

‘There were none.’ Warden nodded to the hatch. ‘But there is this.’

When I looked closer, I saw it. A large silver padlock held the hatch shut. A bar of white light glowed down the middle.

‘This is an ethereal padlock, which uses the same hybrid technology as the fences,’ Warden said. ‘Nashira is the only binder in the city. The poltergeist inside the padlock must be hers. No doubt she intended to escort the emissaries here personally.’

‘You’re strong.’ I looked at him. ‘You can’t break the hatch open?’

‘No. The iron has been fortified with adamant, a rare material from the Netherworld,’ Warden said. ‘It resists all physical force.’ He demonstrated, giving it a pull. ‘The binding is very weak, made to be swiftly broken. The threnody may be powerful enough to override it.’

‘We’d have to know its name,’ I said. ‘The name it held closest when it was alive.’

‘Yes.’

The marks on my hand smarted. When I tried to sense the poltergeist, my nose bled again.

‘Fuck this,’ I said. ‘We’ll backtrack and use the same hatch as Jaxon. We can still—’

‘They’re coming,’ came a frantic cry. I looked over my shoulder to see a performer. ‘The Vigiles, the Overseer, the Rephs, the whole lot of them. They’re at the sally port.’

I pinched my nose. That scotched my plan to retrace our steps.

‘Julian,’ I said to her. ‘Where is Julian?’

‘I don’t know. Where’s Liss?’

‘She’s—’ I could hardly get it out: ‘Liss is dead. Gomeisa killed her.’

‘No,’ Nell whispered. ‘Not her.’ Several of the other performers stared at me, including Jos, whose eyes filled with tears. ‘Paige, are you sure?’

I nodded stiffly.

‘Enough. I’m not dying here, and I’m not going back.’ The voice came from a sallow augur in his forties. ‘Get away from that hatch, Reph.’

‘I would not advise touching it,’ Warden said.

‘I’m done taking orders from parasites,’ the augur sneered. ‘You’ll have to deal with a voyant doing what he pleases with his own life. Got it?’

Warden set his jaw. The augur had a heavy length of pipe in his hands, one of our many improvised weapons. Before anyone could stop him, he swung it overhead and brought it down hard on the padlock.

A shockwave cut through the æther. My hair crackled as the augur was blasted away from us, screaming.

I glimpsed scores of electric torches in the distance, replacing the vanishing light from the flare. For now, the darkness was still hiding us.

‘Everyone stay calm,’ Nick said. ‘Falling apart now will get us killed.’

‘Who are you people?’ Cyril demanded. ‘How do you have proper weapons?’

‘Later, Cyril.’ I tried to keep a level head. ‘Fine. The lock is unbreakable, but—’ I swallowed. ‘Could I persuade the poltergeist in spirit form?’

‘That may be our last hope. If you leave your body, you could speak to it in Gloss,’ Warden said. ‘I have already tried, but it will not respond to my voice.’ Against the darkness, his eyes burned. ‘I did not want it to come to this. You have already done too much, Paige.’

‘I can do it,’ I said, with more conviction than I felt. Only a fool would try to reason with a poltergeist. ‘Do you have any more amaranth?’

Warden gave me the vial from Pleione. Our fingers brushed as I took it and removed the stopper. He had been quick to put the gloves back on.

‘Drink every drop,’ Warden said. ‘It is the only way to fortify yourself.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Yes.’

I nodded and drained the whole vial in one go. It mopped up the last of my headache, reinforcing my dreamscape.

The Vigiles were armed with ballistic shields and guns, defending the emissaries. Birgitta Tjäder was among them, as was Cathal Bell. When Tjäder spotted us, she gave a shout of rage. Nick raised his rifle, aiming for her head. No point using spools on amaurotics.

I faced the huddle of prisoners. For the first time since their arrival here, they needed to be encouraged. They needed to hear a voice telling them that they were capable, that they were worth something, that everything was going to be all right, even if it was a lie.

That voice would have to be mine.

‘Scion left me alive in Dublin,’ I said, raising it enough that they could all hear. ‘That is not a mistake they’re going to make again. Right now, those Vigiles and their employers – even the Rephs – are terrified of us. They don’t want us to tell our stories. If they trap us here, they will leave no witnesses. No survivors. Each of us carries a secret Scion must deny. Each of us carries the key to its downfall.’

They all watched me, including Warden. My throat was already sore, and words had never been my forte, but I pressed on:

‘Listen to me, all of you. You fought your way to this meadow. You’re here,’ I said. ‘So are the people who died here twenty years ago, on Novembertide. Their spirits are with us now, ready to help.’ As I spoke, those spirits moved closer. ‘If you can hold the Vigiles off, I will open this hatch – and I promise you, when dawn breaks, you will be in London. And there will be no day bell to send us to our cells.’

There were murmurs of assent, of anger.

‘I know you’re all exhausted,’ I said, ‘but I need you to dig as deep as you can, and fight once more. I need you to defend me while I dreamwalk. Do this one last thing, and we can leave this hell for ever. You’ve fought so long, and so hard, and we are so close to freedom.’

Cyril swallowed. ‘Are you really the Pale Dreamer?’

‘I am,’ I said quietly.

‘Then you’ll help us find somewhere, once we get to London?’

‘I will.’

It was a lie. Without my position as a mollisher, I was nothing. I had no sway to get them work; I had nowhere to give them refuge. But I needed them to believe me, so they would fight to save themselves.

The prisoners shared weary looks. There were no battle cries, no shouts – nobody had breath or strength to spare – but in unison, they picked up their weapons and surged towards the incoming Vigiles. Nadine and Zeke flanked them, both firing at the enemy. The Novembertide spirits rallied, flying alongside my allies with a vengeance.

‘I need my oxygen mask,’ I said to Nick.

Nick reached into his boiler suit.

‘It’s running low,’ he warned, handing it over. ‘Make it count, Paige.’ As I lay on the grass, he looked hard at Warden. ‘You’d better keep her alive. If this goes wrong, I will hold you personally responsible.’

‘Gallows Wood is the only other way out of the city. Even if you survive the minefield, there is a wall,’ Warden said. ‘Unless you can think of an alternative, Dr Nygård, the train is your only means of escape. And Paige is your only means of accessing it.’

Nick pumped the shotgun and went after the others. I strapped the mask over my mouth and nose. It sealed and illuminated, confirming a steady flow of oxygen. Warden joined me on the ground.

‘Warden,’ I said, ‘if I don’t deactivate the padlock on time, don’t wake me. I can’t—’ My voice wavered. ‘I can’t watch them all die around me.’

‘I will not abandon you to the æther,’ Warden said. ‘You are stronger than you believe. If you can hold your own against Nashira Sargas and Jaxon Hall, a poltergeist will not defeat you, Paige Mahoney.’

He brushed my cheek. I wanted to be held again, in that moment – selfishly, like a fool. I was so tired, so threadbare from dreamwalking. My own gift, my greatest strength, was eating me alive.

Just one more fight, and I could go. Trusting Warden to guard my body, I leaned on him and dislocated, letting my spirit drift.

I sensed abrasion in the æther, just as I did when I stood near the fences. The hybrid technology was affecting it in a way that felt artificial and strange.

Unlike a ghost, a breacher was not meant to stay in one place for long. Forced into a haunt, this one had chiselled a space in the æther, like a tiny aching hole in a tooth, reflecting the confines of the padlock. I fit my own spirit into that space with it.

This cavity was not a dreamscape, but I found myself taking a shadowy form. In a rushing darkness, I could make out a faint outline.

Who are you?

The language was not one I had ever learned, but I could speak it.

No, please, don’t. I don’t want to die, the figure whispered. I don’t want to die.

I hear you. I mean you no harm.I saw without eyes, spoke with no voice. You haven’t been this way for long. Tell me how you died. Do you remember?

My neck snapped, as if I was hanged with a noose. I sat and waited to be saved. I was in pain. I could not move, it said. I am still bound in place, but I am glad. It was not my time to go, and I will not. It wasn’t fair, not fair, not fair.

So this was what Warden had called a willing poltergeist – determined to stay, chained by its bitterness. I pushed myself towards it, fighting the tide of its fury. In this form, I could exert almost no pressure of my own.

I don’t want to go. She told me not to go, the poltergeist said. I must not go, I cannot go.

You have to go now. It’s time. I was close enough to touch the other spirit, but I kept a careful distance. She is holding you here, but you are stronger. You can be at peace. If you just will it, you can go. Leave and be free, spirit.

This close, I could see its neck, bent at a ghastly angle.

I cannot go, it repeated.

I had the vague sense that I needed to hurry. In the near distance, I was aware of Warden holding me, the golden cord providing a second harness.

You, the poltergeist said. I know your spirit. You did not save me, walker.

Now I knew this spirit, too. I knew the name it had given me in March.

Let me save you now, I said. I can send you a long way away, to the outer darkness, so nobody can ever hurt you again. All I have to do is speak your name. When you hear it, you can break your binding and leave. Let me set you free.

The figure blurred. There is an old secret, it said. It pertains to you, walker.

What secret?

Some are for the dead alone. You dance among us, but you live. I see the cords that join you to both flesh and sarx. I see as I never saw with my eyes.The poltergeist touched my outstretched hand, or whatever passed for a hand in this place. Save them, and you will pass unscathed.Speak my name, and I will go.

Our fingers connected. The shock of it jolted me back into my own body. I sat up with a heaving gasp, staring at my hand, the scarred one.

‘Paige,’ Warden started.

‘Sebastian Pearce. Did you see—’ My throat was refusing to work, but I managed to ask the question, misting the oxygen mask: ‘Did you see his database entry?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did he have a middle name?’

‘Albert.’

No sooner had he spoken than I was reaching for the ethereal padlock, clamping my scarred hand tight around it. The cold went all the way through me, but I held on, holding that pocket of æther in my palm.

‘Sebastian Albert Pearce,’ I forced out, ‘be gone into the æther.’ The mask delivered a fresh hiss of oxygen. ‘All is settled. All debts are paid. You need not dwell among the living now.’ I closed my eyes. ‘Goodbye.’

Seb heard me. The artificial haunt collapsed as he tore free of the flimsy binding and vanished. When I removed my icy hand from the padlock, the white light went out, and the shackle clicked up.

Warden wasted no time. We must have almost run out. Gathering me to his chest, he cast off the padlock and lifted the hatch. I heard distant shouts, saw the flash of torchlight, as our allies spilled down the concrete steps. Michael rushed past us with Ivy.

As if in slow motion, I saw Birgitta Tjäder grab a gun. Her bullet hit Cyril in the neck just as he reached the hatch, killing him. Nick roared at her and emptied his rifle. She raised a ballistic shield just in time.

Warden waited for everyone to descend. His warm, solid frame was my only comfort as my awareness returned in excruciating jolts, soaking me in cold sweat.

‘Julian,’ I said thickly. ‘Warden, can you see him?’

He scanned the meadow.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I am sorry, Paige.’

Liss and Julian, my two closest friends in this city. After everything we had survived, I was going to have to leave without them.

Warden pulled the hatch back down and bolted it shut. The shouts from above blurred into a senseless cacophony, like the barking of dogs. I clenched my fingers, holding on to Warden as he followed the others down the steps. The feeling came back to my skin.

Only stolen torches lit the darkness underground, where the survivors had gathered on a short platform, which smelled of disinfectant. A stack of stretchers stood at the far end, just visible in the torchlight.

The train was the sort you saw on a light rail, sleek and modern. The words SCION AUTOMATED TRANSPORTATION SYSTEM were emblazoned across the back. The carriages were white, the anchor printed on each door. As Warden approached, the nearest ones slid open, and the lights turned on inside.

‘Welcome aboard the Pentad Line,’Scarlett Burnish said. ‘This train will depart in three minutes. Destination: Whitehall, Scion Citadel of London.’

With gasps of relief, most of the survivors poured into the carriages, leaving their makeshift weapons on the platform. Some of them stayed where they were, clearly unable to believe this was happening, braced for a trick.

Warden set me down. I looked up at him, wishing I had the words.

‘Thank you,’ I finally said. ‘You never had to help us, Warden.’

‘You owe me no thanks for your freedom. It was already yours by right.’

‘You have a right to freedom, too.’

‘Yes. It has taken me twenty years to find the strength to reclaim it.’ Warden took my hands. ‘I have you, and you alone, to thank for that.’

My reply caught in my throat. A few more people boarded the train, Nell and a cryomancer named Charles among them. Zeke leaned out.

‘Paige, get on,’ he shouted.

‘I’m coming, Zeke. Give me a minute.’

‘You have two,’ Nadine called down the platform. ‘See you on the other side.’

She hit a button inside their carriage, and the doors closed. An amaurotic and a soothsayer lurched into the next one, supporting each other. I needed to join them, but I could only hold on to Warden.

‘How strange and unexpected,’ he said, ‘that this should be so difficult.’

An empty ache filled my chest. I glanced down at his gloved hands, cupping my pale ones, with their grey nail beds and blue rivers of vein.

The realisation came slowly, like dusk encroaching on the sun. The realisation that I might never see him again, as long as I lived. These could be the last moments I ever spent with him.

‘Come with us,’ I said. ‘Come with me, to London.’ I let my hands drift to his shoulders. ‘Oxford is already burning. Save yourself, Arcturus.’

Warden held my gaze. I saw him with clear eyes, grounded in myself.

I didn’t love him, even if I had kissed him. Our fragile bond could never have survived in this place, in our circumstances – but I wanted to understand what I did feel. To let it unfold, let it breathe, let it steep, far away. I didn’t want him to die here, lost to the lost city.

But anything between us was impossible. In the end, he was immortal. And from the look in his eyes, wanting might not be enough.

‘One minute to departure,’Burnish said. ‘Please make yourselves comfortable.’

‘I cannot forsake my allies,’ Warden said. ‘But you must go without me. You have survived to fight another day. That is what I wanted for you.’

‘It’s not all I want.’

‘Hm. And what else do you want?’

‘So much. More than I can say,’ I said quietly. ‘I just know I want you with me.’

Warden drew me close, silent. Perhaps our worlds were too different to unite – the dreamwalker, the sleep dealer. The thief and the giant.

But I could sow a seed of secret hope, somewhere in my poppy field. I could plant it and tend it and wait for a flower to blossom, red as blood.

‘My allies and I will attempt to seize the city,’ Warden told me. ‘We will save any humans we can. If we destroy Nashira, her loyalists may scatter. Our chances are very small, but we can only try.’ He lifted my chin. ‘Paige, hear me. If you never see me again, it will mean all is well. But if we fail tonight, and Nashira still holds power by dawn, I will come to warn you.’

‘Find me either way.’ I tightened my hold on him. ‘I don’t know where I’ll be. Not in Seven Dials. I’m … not sure I have a home now.’

‘Wherever you are, I will know where to seek you.’ He pressed my hand to his chest with one hand, framing the curve of my cheek with the other. ‘The night we met, you told me I had brought the wrong voyant to this place. It seems you were exactly the right one, Paige Mahoney.’

I managed a smile.

‘Don’t forget me,’ I said softly. ‘In the end.’

‘An oneiromancer cannot forget.’

My smile widened.

The seconds were counting down. I could hear the train preparing to move. Warden lowered his forehead to mine for a long and tender moment.

‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘Do you trust me now?’

‘Should I?’

‘I cannot tell you that. That is the cruelty of trust.’ He looked at my face as if he was trying to learn it by heart, down to the smallest feature. ‘For trust to live, you cannot know for sure if you should let it.’

‘Then I trust you.’

‘This train is ready to depart,’Scarlett Burnish said. ‘Mind the closing doors.’

Along the platform, they snapped together and locked. Our time was up. Warden released my hands and took a step away from me, eyes hot.

‘Run,’ he said. ‘Run, little dreamer.’

Nick slammed on to the shelter at the back of the train, his ski mask abandoned, face pinched with dread. The train was starting to move.

‘Paige,’ he roared.

My heart leapt, and all my senses hit me like an iron wall.

I sprinted along the platform. The train picked up speed at once, almost leaving me in its wake, but I was fast. I had always been fast.

Nick flung out a hand. I made a grab for it. My fingers almost slipped from his before he leaned out and grabbed me around the waist, lifted me right over the rail – and I was on board, I was there, I was safe. Sparks flew across the track, and metal shook beneath my boots. Nick steadied me as I looked back, my hair ruffling around my face.

Warden had already disappeared into the dark, a candle blown out by the wind. In all likelihood, I would never see him again.

But as I watched the tunnel race before my eyes, I was certain of one thing: I did trust him.

Now I had only to trust in myself.