Stained

STAINED

Warden watched me take my pills. I swallowed the red and white ones, but held the third between my teeth. As soon as I left the Founders Tower, I plucked it out and slipped it into my pocket.

The night porter was ready for me. She sat me on her chair, sterilised and dressed my shoulder, and took my temperature with a glass thermometer.

‘Keep your shoulder as clean as possible,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave a salve and dressings in your quarters.’

‘I want to go out.’ I gazed at the wall, unblinking. ‘Do you have more numa?’

She looked sceptical. ‘Did the Warden say you could leave?’

‘Yes. To get something to eat.’

‘You’re still feverish. It’s not safe out there.’

‘He watched them do this to me. I’m not safe in here, either.’

Without commenting, she handed me another pouch of numa. I drew on my new tunic and left before she had signed me out.

It was hard going. Magdalen was only a short way from Catte Street, but as I reached it, I almost blacked out. On top of the pain, I hadn’t eaten. I leaned against a wall until the feeling passed.

Carl hadn’t mentioned the branding. Then again, he had looked ill. No doubt the Rephs had already convinced him it was necessary.

The city looked just the same as before, yet I was stained. Instead of white, I wore sickly carnation pink, to match the anchor on my new gilet. The fit of laughter seemed like it had happened in another life.

If they had killed a child in the first test, what would they do to me in the second?

How much blood would be spilled before I was red?

There had to be some way out, even if I had to dance around landmines. Anything was better than being moulded to fit this place.

The Rookery was calm tonight. I limped into its passages, my leg weak and heavy, searching for Julian or Tilda. Each time a performer glimpsed me, their face went blank, their head down. My tunic now served as a warning. It proved I had betrayed my own.

‘Paige?’

I stopped, my leg shaking. Liss was leaning out of her room. She took one look at my pink tunic before her expression darkened.

‘Liss,’ I started.

‘You passed,’ she said stiffly. ‘What did you do?’

‘The Rephs got Seb.’ For the first time, my voice quaked. ‘They wanted me to kill him with my spirit.’

‘Kill him,’ she whispered. ‘Where is he, Paige?’

‘He’s dead.’

Liss gave me a look of pure betrayal, then closed her curtain. I let myself sink to the ground, too shaken and drained to defend myself. So far I had made a grand total of two allies in this hellhole, and one of them now thought I had killed someone in cold blood for a tunic.

Perhaps I should have stayed at Magdalen for the night. But then I would have been trapped in the same building as Warden, and I couldn’t stomach any more of him tonight.

‘Sebastian Pearce,’ I murmured, trying to call his spirit. ‘Seb?’

Not even a twinge from the æther. I might be missing part of his name – or someone had already bound him, putting him beyond my reach.

The curtain seemed to judge me. The rip in it had been carefully sewn. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the ache in my thigh.

Three years in the syndicate had taught me the importance of a gang. Julian was a solid first link, but he and I were still new to this place. We needed someone who knew it to its deepest roots – someone like Liss. Whatever it took, I had to prove myself to her.

With an effort that left me coated in sweat, I got up and headed for the cookfires. Julian might turn on me once I had told him about Seb, but I hoped he would hear me out.

Halfway there, I smelled aster in a shack and sensed Tilda. She was sprawled among a few delirious performers, head propped on a cushion, smoking. Minding my leg, I knelt beside her.

‘Tilda,’ I said. ‘You okay?’

‘Oh, hello.’ She blinked hard. ‘Are you real?’

‘Last I checked.’

Tilda laughed. Her aura jerked and shifted as the aster warped her dreamscape. ‘Give me a second, Irish,’ she said. ‘Still reigning.’ She rubbed her bleary eyes. ‘Get me a drink of water, will you?’

‘From where?’

‘There’s a barrel outside. They collect rain in it.’

I checked the performers’ breathing on my way out. Much as I understood their urge to get high as a skyscraper, this place was dangerous and confusing enough without ethereal drugs in the mix.

The rain barrel was running low. A few chipped teacups had been left on rusty hooks beside it. I filled one and took it back to Tilda. She sat up and managed to take a few sips.

‘Right,’ she said, with conviction. ‘I’m dethroned.’

‘Are you?’

‘Well, abdicating.’ She knuckled her eyes again. ‘You passed, then. What happened?’

‘You just have to show your gift. The Rephs are going to call you soon,’ I said. ‘You can’t let them find you like this.’ She nodded. ‘I brought the pill, the green one. Could you take a look?’

‘Yeah. Give it here.’

I fished it from my gilet. Tilda raised it to eye level, scrutinising it from every angle. She ran her thumb over it, then split it and crushed one half between her fingers, smelling and tasting the residue.

‘It’s herbal,’ she concluded. ‘I couldn’t tell you which herb, mind.’

‘Do you know anyone who could?’

‘Maybe.’ She dropped her head back on to the cushion. ‘Duckett, the man who grows the aster – he might be able to tell you. The password to his shop is specchio.’

‘Where is it?’

Tilda had already dozed off. I wondered what Suhail would do if he caught them.

The Rookery had many small rooms, most of which were shared by two or three performers. It must help them survive the biting cold. It was frigid enough now, in March – I couldn’t imagine this place in December. Liss was unusual, to live by herself.

There were no hygiene facilities, no medical supplies, and little bedding. They had been left to scratch out a life in any way they could.

Sniffing the shop out took a while. It was hidden behind several curtains and false walls. I only found the path after questioning a wiry performer, who introduced herself as Nell. She warned me of coercion and high prices, but pointed me in the right direction in exchange for the dried rose petals from my pouch.

When I found the shop, I also found the young polyglot I had seen at the oration. He was sitting on a cushion, reading a book that looked older than both of us put together.

‘Hello,’ I said.

‘Hi.’ A pure, sweet note. ‘You found us.’

A boy who could speak the language of spirits. It was a rare and strange ability, one of the hardest to conceal from amaurotics.

‘Just about,’ I said. ‘You went with Pleione, didn’t you?’

‘Yes. I’m Joseph,’ he said, ‘but you can call me Jos.’

‘Paige. I’m told someone called Duckett lives here.’

‘I found the shop yesterday, when I was exploring. He said I could guard it when he’s away.’ His right eye was sticky, clearly infected. ‘He’s in there now. Do you have the password?’

I nodded. ‘Specchio.’

Jos stood up. He pulled the last curtain aside for me, and I went through.

Duckett had made his nest in the very heart of the Rookery. His shop was two adjoining shacks, one of which had been transformed into a modest house of mirrors. He sat on a battered leather armchair, gazing into the glass. The mirrors betrayed his speciality: catoptromancy.

When I entered, he raised a monocle to one eye. He had the misty stare of a voyant who had scried too much.

‘I don’t believe I’ve seen you before,’ he remarked. ‘In my mirrors or my shop.’

‘I arrived a few days ago,’ I said.

‘Ah, the Bone Season. Who owns you?’

‘Arcturus Mesarthim is my keeper,’ I said. ‘If that’s what you mean.’

I was already sick of that name – hearing it, saying it.

‘My word.’ The seer lowered his monocle. ‘So you are his mysterious tenant.’

‘I’m not that mysterious,’ I said. ‘You’re Duckett, are you?’

‘My number is 10.’ His face was deeply lined, his hair grey and receded. ‘But yes, the performers – my assistants – call me Duckett. I no longer remember whatever name I had before.’

‘10.’ I paused. ‘What’s the rest of your number?’

‘XVI-19-10.’

It took me a moment to parse the code. ‘You’ve been here forty years?’

‘Oh, yes. I am the oldest human resident of this city. Once I was a soldier, and then I was an acrobat. Alas, these bones are too frail now.’

‘Why did you become a performer?’

‘Now, now. Beyond introductions, I give nothing away for nothing.’

‘Fair enough.’

His stock was displayed on shelves and a table. I was briefly reminded of the black market in Covent Garden, which offered all manner of wares: numa, moonshine, trinkets from the free world, anything outlawed by Scion.

There were some numa here, but Duckett sold other ways to survive. Not just things a voyant needed, but what any human did. There were clean sheets, plump cushions, matches and tweezers, rubbing alcohol, soap, paraffin, canned heat, bandages, sewing kits, tools and nails, toothbrushes – even prescription medicine.

No weapons, of course. Not even a penknife or a pair of scissors.

‘Quite a stockpile,’ I said. ‘Where did you get all this?’

‘Here and there.’

‘I presume the Rephs don’t know about it.’ I picked up an old tinderbox. ‘You’re clearly not in need of numa. What do you trade in, Duckett?’

‘Favours,’ he said. ‘In exchange for what you need, I might ask you to fetch more supplies for my shop, or carry a message, or run some other errand. A simple and beneficial exchange.’

I cast my eye over the antibiotics. Some of those could be lifesaving. ‘I see,’ I said. ‘What would I have to do for information?’

‘That depends on the information you seek.’

I put the remaining half of the green pill on the table.

‘I hear you grow the regal they’re smoking out there. I assume you know a fair amount about drugs,’ I said. ‘Can you tell me what this is?’

Duckett rose to look. He used his monocle to peer at it, then picked it up, his thick fingers shaking. ‘For this,’ he finally said, ‘I will give you anything you like from the shop, free of charge.’

‘You want to keep it?’

‘Oh, yes, if I may. After forty years, I thought I had seen everything this city has to offer, but this is unfamiliar. Where did you get it?’

‘I’m sure you’ll understand that I can’t share that, Duckett. Just like I’m sure you wouldn’t tell me where you grow your aster.’

‘A wise decision.’ He set the pill down. ‘If you bring me whole ones, I will trade each for an item. No errands necessary.’

‘Tell me what it is, or I walk away.’

Duckett held the pill near a flickering lamp. ‘I can tell you that it is an herbal tablet, and that it is harmless,’ he concluded. ‘Is that enough?’

‘It’s something,’ I said. ‘Three items in advance, and you’ve got a deal.’

‘Done. You are a shrewd negotiator.’ He put the pill down and returned to his chair, steepling his fingers under his chin. ‘What else are you?’

‘I’m an acultomancer.’

‘You’ll have to forgive my ignorance. On the Merits of Unnaturalness was published long after I came to this place – I’ve never seen a copy. I remember a time before the seven orders,’ Duckett said. ‘Remind me, what does an acultomancer do?’

‘My numa are needles. I cast them and interpret the patterns.’

He chuckled. ‘A pretty lie. Does it ever work?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘Not on me. With age comes experience in such things, and I sense you do not rely on a numen. It seems we have a very interesting crop this decade.’ A smile tempted his mouth. ‘You are the envy of us all, living at Magdalen. A beautiful old residence, with a most selective master. What do you make of the Warden?’

‘I would have thought that was obvious.’

‘Not at all. There are a variety of opinions on our overlords.’ Duckett ran his thumb over his monocle. ‘The blood-consort is considered by many to be the most … striking of them.’

‘Well, I don’t base my opinions of people on that sort of thing.’

‘You agree, then?’

‘He can look however he likes. I’ll still find him repulsive.’ I picked up some canned heat, then put it down. ‘You say you’re the oldest human in this city. How did you survive this long?’

‘No more information, I’m afraid. Our deal is cut.’

‘Fine. I’ll take my items.’

Duckett watched me consider his stock. I chose a thick fleece blanket, a box of aspirin, and a dripper bottle of fusidic acid.

‘I certainly hope to see you again soon,’ he said. ‘It was good to do business with you, 40.’

‘Paige,’ I said curtly.

I walked out of the shop. His gaze stung my back.

A man deprived of power who had found a way to make his own. The performers must be knocking on his door all night in winter.

His questions had felt like an interrogation. Why he had seen fit to remark on how Warden looked, of all things, I had no idea. Then again, forty years in this prison would unhinge the sanest person.

If he had been in here that long, I must have little hope of finding a way out.

As I left, I tossed the fusidic acid to the polyglot. He looked up at me and tilted his head in question.

‘For your eye,’ I said.

He blinked. I kept walking.

When I reached the right shack, I rapped my knuckles on the wall.

‘Liss.’ No reply. I knocked again. ‘Liss, it’s Paige.’

When Liss pulled the curtain aside, I stepped back. She carried a small lantern.

‘Leave me alone, Paige,’ she said tightly. ‘I don’t talk to pinks or reds. I’m sorry. You’ll have to find other jackets to—’

‘I didn’t kill Seb.’ I offered the blanket and the aspirin. ‘Look, I got these from Duckett. You can have them. Just let me tell you what happened.’

She looked from the items to my face. Her forehead creased, and her lips thinned.

‘You’d better come inside,’ she said. ‘Your friend is here, in any case.’

Liss had found a tired Julian by the fires. After he said he was looking for me, she had taken him in for a bowl of skilly and liked him enough to let him doze off. He stirred when I came in with her, and stayed awake for long enough to hear about the test, his eyebrows rising when I finally told him what I was.

My voice never wavered as I recounted it. Part of me wanted to cry it out, but Jaxon couldn’t abide tears. Even here, I felt that he could sense my every move; that he would soon know if I broke from his mould. Safer to remain within it, cold and unmoving.

After I had told the story, Liss made an infusion. While Julian nodded off again, she handed me a steaming cup.

‘Drink this,’ she said. ‘It will help.’

‘Thank you.’

She sat beside me. Her face was swollen, her neck bruised. I sipped in silence.

‘You can stay until dawn, if you want. Both of you,’ Liss said. ‘I shouldn’t have shut you out like that, Paige. It’s just that … after the first test, most jackets only come here to gloat. I couldn’t bear it.’

‘It’s fine.’ I glanced at her. ‘I’d still like to be friends, if you would.’

‘I’d like to try. We could all use friends here.’

The brand still throbbed on my shoulder, and my thigh still hurt badly. Even if I escaped this place, I could never forget last night.

Julian snuffled in his sleep. Liss had given him some of the aspirin.

‘It was good of you to bring those supplies.’ She covered him with the new blanket, voice low. ‘What did you have to do for Duckett?’

‘Give him one of my pills,’ I said.

‘We get the pills, too. Why would he ask for one of those?’

‘Because I get a green pill, and I don’t think anyone else does.’

‘That’s odd, but if Duckett is interested, you should take advantage,’ Liss said. ‘He’s as cruel as the Rephs, after years in this place. He forces us to jump through hoops for every item, even if we’re desperate. We’re his entertainment as much as theirs.’

‘Is the medicine real?’

‘We think so. Most of it is expired, but it’s the best we can get.’

She passed me a knitted blanket. I watched her gingerly touch her cheek, where a bruise was rising.

‘Liss,’ I said. ‘Who did that?’

‘Gomeisa. He called me for a reading.’ She poured more water into the pot. ‘Rephs don’t often ask us for predictions, but I’ve never been wrong, and he knows it. It’s why he still calls me. He just doesn’t always like what I tell him.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Liss shook her head. ‘It doesn’t happen often. He left this morning.’

‘What did he ask you?’

‘I’d tell you if I could, but there’s a code of honour among some augurs and soothsayers. We don’t share our querents’ futures,’ she said. ‘I hate Gomeisa, but I’ll not lower myself for him.’

‘I understand. Were you his only human?’

‘I was the same as you, with a keeper that had never chosen anyone before. When I refused the test, Nashira gave me a yellow tunic. Gomeisa was so disgusted, he branded me himself and threw me straight out here. I didn’t get a second or third chance.’

‘I tried to refuse, too. Now I have a target on my back, and Seb is dead.’

‘They’ll use other amaurotics in the tests. Maybe performers, too. A few of us could disappear before this round is over,’ Liss said. ‘But I don’t want to think about that. Let’s have something to eat.’

She reached over to the wooden box where she kept her valuables, taking out a pot of instant coffee, two cans of beans, and three eggs.

‘I’ve been saving the coffee for a while. It’s the last of what Nita got for me,’ she said. ‘Cyril stole the eggs from Oriel. He owed me. I think we should have a late breakfast, the three of us.’

‘Don’t waste it on us, Liss. We can get food at our residences.’

‘Not straight away. And coffee is nicer with company.’ Liss smiled at me. ‘Besides, there are new amaurotics to help us, and Scion will have sent food to restock the kitchens. We can afford to eat like queens.’

‘May a king join the banquet?’

Julian was sitting up. Our voices must have woken him.

‘Of course.’ Liss gave him a nod. ‘How are you feeling, Julian?’

‘Better.’ He touched his nose. ‘Thanks for the aspirin, Paige. Sorry for dozing off after that story. I can hardly keep my eyes open.’

‘You’re grand,’ I said. ‘I’m not feeling especially awake myself.’

‘That’s why we need coffee,’ Liss said. ‘Is Aludra not letting you sleep, Julian?’

‘Not much,’ he said, his voice still thick. ‘She made us train with those batons until noon. We’re allowed to ignore the curfew within the residences.’

‘Where does she keep you?’

‘An old wine cellar under the hall. She says we can only have our own rooms once we’ve all learned to spool. Ella and Felix don’t have a clue, so we’re sleeping on the floor for a while.’

‘If it gets too much, you can join us out here,’ Liss said. ‘Being a performer is tough, but it’s easier than patrolling Gallows Wood.’

I wrapped myself in the blanket. ‘Have you seen a Buzzer?’

‘From a distance, when they’ve got into the city. I’ve always found a place to hide.’

The water roiled and steamed. Liss poured it into three mugs and mixed it with the granules. I took a grateful sip. My last coffee had been snatched between errands on the day I was arrested.

‘I’ll keep at it for now,’ Julian concluded. ‘I might as well sharpen my spirit combat. I’ve let myself get rusty over the last few years.’

Liss nodded once.

‘Some people do find it harder out here,’ she said. ‘I used to share this place with a friend, but she couldn’t bear the shame of being a performer. After a bad winter, she convinced her keeper to give her one more chance. She’s been a bone-grubber ever since.’

‘Bone-grubber?’

‘Our name for the red-jackets.’ A flicker of sorrow crossed her face. ‘Stay at Trinity for now. You’ll be fed if Aludra approves of your progress.’

‘So far, she thinks we’re all useless.’

‘If it helps,’ I said, ‘I managed to knock her over during the test.’

‘That does help, actually,’ Julian said.

Liss stared at me. ‘You hurt a Reph?’

‘Only a little,’ I said.

‘She’ll not forget that in a hurry, Paige. Aludra and her family are vicious.’ She put another pot of water on the stove. ‘Julian, you mentioned batons earlier. I don’t remember that from my training.’

‘I was telling Paige about them yesterday. I don’t know how, but they have ethereal properties,’ Julian said. ‘You can use them to exert control over the nearest spirits, to help you practise spooling.’

Liss frowned. ‘I don’t like the sound of that. Can amaurotics use them?’

‘Even if they could, they wouldn’t touch anything unnatural.’

‘They do employ night Vigiles,’ I said. ‘Scion has always dabbled in hypocrisy. It doesn’t really surprise me that its founders are voyant.’

‘But they built an empire that hates us.’ Julian chewed his cheek. ‘The Rephs could have done the opposite – honoured clairvoyance, not vilified it. We could have worked together as equals. And why did they feel like they had to do all this in secret?’

‘I doubt we’ll ever know their reasons for doing anything,’ Liss said shortly. ‘But I can’t see why they would broadcast their presence.’

‘Why not?’ I said. ‘Julian is right. If they’re so sure of themselves – if they’re so mighty, and we’re so weak – why the need for secrecy?’

‘They believe we’re inherently violent and cruel. I doubt they want anything to do with us, beyond what they see as necessary.’

‘They’re violent and cruel, too,’ Julian said. ‘Don’t they see that?’

‘I’m sure they do,’ Liss said. ‘They just think we deserve to be treated that way. That’s why they didn’t bat an eyelid when they murdered Seb.’

‘Poor Seb.’ Julian glanced at me. ‘Warden and Nashira are consorts. They must be able to feel something, if not guilt.’

‘Well, I’ve not seen them show it,’ Liss said. ‘Not in ten years.’

We finished our coffee. Liss passed us each an egg, and we ate them out of the shells.

‘I was thinking,’ Julian said. ‘What did the Rephs do for aura before they found us?’

Liss was starting to look tired. ‘I don’t ask questions like that.’

‘Knowledge is power, isn’t it?’

‘Not necessarily. Knowledge is dangerous. Once you know something, you can never be rid of it. You have to carry it, always. Even if it pains you.’

‘Unless you take white aster,’ I said, scraping out the last of the egg.

‘Even then, it’s somewhere in your dreamscape. Just … buried, tucked away.’ Liss held out a hand. ‘Here, give me your shells. I’ll powder them later.’ Seeing our furrowed brows, she gave us a thin smile. ‘You can eat them. Helps keep your bones strong.’

We handed them over.

‘You’ve been here ten years,’ Julian said. ‘Do you ever think about fighting back, Liss?’

‘Every night,’ she said, ‘but there’s no point in it.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because all the Rephs would do is kill me, and I won’t give them my life just yet,’ Liss said, low and embittered. ‘Is it not enough they’ve stolen everything else – my freedom, my pride?’

Julian and I traded a glance, neither of us knowing what to say.

‘I know what you both must think of me,’ Liss said tightly. ‘I’ve got no backbone. I’m a doormat.’ Before we could protest, she cut across us: ‘No. I don’t blame you. When I first came here, I held on to the hope that I would escape. And then I learned about Bone Season XVIII.’

I waited, cold all over. Liss looked between us, her face hardening.

‘Are you sure you want this knowledge, Julian?’

After a moment, Julian nodded.

‘Duckett is the oldest human in this city. I’ll tell you why,’ Liss said. ‘Twenty years ago, the prisoners here planned to rise up against the Rephs. At that point, there were far more of us than you see now. When Nashira was informed, the humans were thrown out of the residences, the doors were locked, and the Emim were allowed into the city. Only Duckett escaped the slaughter.’

That was not what I had expected her to say.

‘That seems—’ Julian shook his head. ‘Surely not everyone was involved.’

‘She didn’t care. The first humans from my Bone Season arrived in a deserted city,’ Liss said. ‘Scion had to post Vigiles here to support them.’ The pain in her eyes aged her by decades. ‘I can tell you’re both fighters, but you need to accept what’s happened to you. Scion could have executed us, but instead, they sent us here. I promise you, death is the only way out.’

Her voice quaked on the last sentence. Julian rubbed a hand over his head.

‘Sorry.’ Liss dropped her gaze. ‘I didn’t want to scare you this soon.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m glad you did.’

It was true. Now I knew exactly how high the stakes were in this place.

‘Let’s talk about something else,’ Julian said. ‘Where did you used to live, Liss?’

She gave him a guarded look. ‘Inverness.’

‘I’ve always wanted to go there. Why did you come south?’

‘My parents were caught distributing seditious pamphlets. My father was arrested.’ She drew a sheet around her shoulders. ‘He escaped on his way to the New Tolbooth, but we had to go into hiding.’

Scotland no longer formally existed. Like Wales, it had been absorbed into Scion England. The Scots still found ways to resist.

‘We could have gone to my aunt in Edinburgh, but my father was too proud to ask for help,’ Liss said. ‘He spent all our savings to get us to London, hoping we could join the syndicate, but soon, none of the mime-lords or mime-queens wanted us.’

Jaxon might have been to blame. After all, he was the writer who had made soothsayers undesirable.

‘Because of On the Merits, I assume,’ Julian said, voicing the same thought.

‘Partly, but my mother was amaurotic. I don’t remember the specifics, but one of the mime-lords said he wouldn’t accept us with her in tow. When Dad argued with him, he put out word that we were Scion informants. After that, no one would touch us.’

That sort of petty blacklisting was common in the syndicate. It wasn’t always successful, but it hit new arrivals the hardest.

‘Once the money ran out, we had to earn a living without crossing the syndicate,’ Liss said. ‘Its couriers were everywhere. They would force my father to move on if they saw him, but they didn’t usually expect a child to be busking. I earned most of the money.’

I didn’t trust myself to speak.

‘When I was ten, my parents got lung fever. After that, I was on my own,’ Liss said. ‘One night, a woman approached me and asked for a reading.’ She took her cards out and ran her thumb over them. ‘I was only eleven. How was I to know it was a sting?’

Julian grimaced. ‘How long were you in the Tower?’

‘Two years. I was thirteen when I got here.’

I cleared my throat.

‘Where did you live, Julian?’

‘Morden,’ he said. ‘I’ve always tried to blend in with the amaurotics, so I never bothered with the syndicate. I had a couple of voyant friends, but we didn’t do proper mime-crime. Just séances.’

Liss looked ready to drop. She barely knew either of us, and the conversation had gone to dark places.

‘I’m exhausted,’ I said. ‘Shall we get some rest while we can?’

‘Good idea,’ Julian said.

Liss gave me a small nod. She blew out some of her lamps before we all got as comfortable as we could. I rested my head on my arm.

I couldn’t sleep. The pain in my shoulder was sharper than ever, and Bone Season XVIII played on my mind. If Nashira reacted that strongly to dissent, it was no wonder Liss didn’t want to fight back.

A terrible sound pulled me upright. It cranked and creaked, working itself up into a tremendous scream. My body reacted to it at once: a prickling in my legs, a thumping heart. Julian jolted awake.

Footsteps thundered through the passages. Liss was up at once, pushing her deck of cards into a pocket.

‘You have to go,’ she urged. ‘Run straight back to your residences.’

‘Come with us.’ I stood. ‘Just sneak into one. You’re not safe in—’

‘Do you want to get a slating from Aludra, or the Warden?’ she shouted over the siren. ‘I’ve been doing this for years. I’ll be fine. Go on, both of you!’

Julian only hesitated for a moment. I didn’t know what Warden would do to me if I was slow in returning, but from her track record, Aludra might just kill Julian for the same transgression. We ducked out of the shack and ran.