I called a meeting at once. By the time we reached a hideout north of the river, the Glym Lord, Tom the Rhymer and Ognena Maria were already seated, bickering over the rest of the ginger buns. Opposite them was Danica Panić, the other member of the Seven Seals who had stayed with me after the scrimmage. I would usually have asked all six commanders to attend a gathering like this, but I didn’t want all of us under one roof.
When I entered, they stood. My ribs ached as I lowered myself into a chair beside Nick. The bitter cold wasn’t helping my injuries from the scrimmage.
“What’s going on, Paige?” Maria said. “Is this true? A hidden Senshield scanner?”
On the other side of the table, one seat was vacant.
“Should we wait?” Eliza asked, taking her place on my left.
“No,” I said curtly.
Terebell’s absence was beyond frustrating. She knew what time the meeting was due to start, and nothing could be more important than this. We had always expected Scion to increase the number of Senshield scanners—they had advertised their intention to install them—but we had also expected to be able to see them.
“Thank you all for coming at such short notice,” I said. “I’ll get straight to the point. Eliza just tried to use a cash machine, and an alarm went off. It seems a Senshield scanner was . . . built into it.” I paused, letting them take it in. “We barely escaped.”
Breaths were drawn. Glym lowered his face into the palm of one hand.
“The implications for the Mime Order could be catastrophic,” I said. “If we can’t see the scanners, we can’t avoid them.”
“In a cash machine.” Maria scraped a hand through her hair. “Such an ordinary thing . . .”
“This might explain the mysterious phone box,” Nick murmured. “And the voyant who disappeared from the pharmacy.”
I had been too quick to brush off those reports. “This is the greatest threat to voyant-kind we’ve ever faced,” I said. “Depending on how many hidden scanners have been installed, the first three orders—the only ones that can currently be detected—may have to go into hiding temporarily until our numbers are great enough to overcome the Vigiles. It could be too dangerous on the streets.”
“No.” Eliza stared at me. “Paige, we can’t just hide.”
“As a fellow medium,” Glym said, lifting his face, “I agree. Despite the danger, it would be impractical to freeze most of our foot-soldiers.”
“It would also be impractical to allow Scion to capture them,” I said. “We have voyants from the other orders to do the footwork.”
“Not many.”
“Enough,” I said, but I could tell that they weren’t having this. Maria shook her head. “Fine. Then we’d better get damned good at avoiding the scanners. And it’s time we actually tackled the threat head-on. Hector buried his head in the sand about Senshield, but we have to face the facts about how serious this is. This is a god in a machine. An all-seeing eye.”
“And you’re going to find it hard to blind it,” Danica said.
She was sitting uncomfortably at the other end of the table with her arms folded. Her hair was a thatch of auburn frizzles, her eyes bloodshot from overtime. With her job in Scion’s engineering department, she was our best source of information on Senshield.
“Dani,” I said, “did you have any idea this was coming?”
“I knew they planned to install the large scanners across the citadel, which is why I tried and failed to build a device to block our auras—we all knew that. We also knew that they would eventually target essential services. I did not know, however, that they had created a version that could be concealed.”
“Let’s cut to the chase, then. Do you have any idea how we can get rid of them?”
“Well, you can’t destroy or remove the large ones by hand. Aside from the fact that they’re clearly being watched, each scanner is welded in place.”
“Do you know how they work?” Glym asked Danica, tersely. “Do you know anything about them at all?”
“Obviously.”
“And?”
She shot him a dark look. If there was one thing Danica Panić hated, it was being rushed.
“According to the engineers’ grapevine, the scanners are powered by a central source of energy, which they call the core,” she said, with deliberate slowness. “I don’t know what it is, but I do know that every single scanner is connected to it.”
“So if we get rid of the core, we disable the whole thing,” I said.
“Hypothetically. It would be like removing the battery.”
Tom stroked his beard. “And where do we find it?”
“The Archon, surely,” I said.
“Not necessarily,” Danica said. “Senshield is a ScionIDE project, so it’s most likely in a military facility.”
ScionIDE. Scion: International Defense Executive. Scion’s army. I had encountered them once before, thirteen years ago, when they had broken into Ireland through Dublin.
“ScionIDE,” Maria repeated.
I looked at her. Wearing an odd expression, she took a leather cigarette case from her jacket.
“I didn’t know Senshield was a military brainchild. That’s very interesting.” She removed a cigarette and lit up. “A link to the army gives its increased presence an even more sinister touch.”
A tremor scuttled across my abdomen. We had security measures in place to protect us from Vigiles and enemy Rephaim, but I hadn’t seriously considered the army as a prospective threat at this stage. Most of it was stationed in Scion’s overseas territories.
“I’m all for going after Senshield, but if we bait the beast, we have to be prepared for one hell of a bite,” Maria said, “and that bite might well include a certain Hildred Vance, Grand Commander of the Republic of Scion and authority maximum of ScionIDE.”
Tom muttered some choice words.
Vance . . . I had heard that name before.
“Vance,” Glym said. “She spearheaded the invasion of Bulgaria.”
“That’s the one. The mastermind behind Ireland and the Balkans.” Maria blew out a fine mist of smoke. “She may well be sponsoring Senshield’s expansion. For military use.”
Eliza’s knee bounced. “What does it mean if she comes here?”
Maria drew on her cigarette again, eyes closed. “It means,” she said, “that we will be fighting one of the most intelligent and ruthless strategists alive. One who is used to dismantling cell-based rebel groups.”
There was a long silence. Our movement wasn’t strong enough to deal with the army yet.
“Well,” I said finally, “whether or not it is linked to Vance—”
I stopped when Warden appeared in the doorway, wearing his heavy black overcoat. The commanders observed him with apprehension, taking in the ice-blue irises, the statuesque build.
“Apologies for my lateness, Underqueen,” he said.
The color of his eyes betrayed the reason for it—he had stopped to feed.
“Where’s Terebell?”
“She is engaged tonight.”
I was aware of his every movement as he took the seat beside Glym. His eyes were unnerving, reminding me of exactly what he had to do to survive, but I couldn’t resent him for it. For his sake, I briefly explained again about the hidden scanners and the threat they posed.
“We could use your advice,” I said, “if we’re going to have any chance of disabling Senshield. You were close to the Sargas. What do you know about it? About what powers it?”
“Knowing the Sargas, the core is likely a form of ethereal technology, which harnesses the energy created by spirits,” Warden said.
Tom raised his eyebrows. “Technology that uses spirits? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Even most Rephaim know precious little about it. The Sargas are the only family to have spliced the energy of the æther with human machinery. Many of my kind consider it obscene,” Warden said. “Unfortunately, I do not know the workings of Senshield’s core.”
I nodded slowly. “Do you think it might be in the Archon?”
“I will ask our double agent if he has any idea, but I imagine that if it was, he would already have told us.”
Alsafi Sualocin, the Ranthen’s most valuable spy in the Archon. I had known him in the colony as Nashira’s brutal and loyal guard. It had been a shock to discover that he was Ranthen, working in secret to undermine her.
“Although we do not know the location of the core, this may be the time to consider something we do know about the scanners.” Warden glanced around the table. “As you are all aware, Senshield can currently only detect the first three orders of clairvoyance. Hard as they have tried, Scion has been unable to tune it to detect the higher four.”
Maria tilted her head. “How do they do this . . . tuning, exactly?”
“No one knows, but I have long suspected that exposure to aura is involved. It would be logical for Senshield to recognize what it has already encountered.” He paused. “It is possible that any of you could be used to improve its ability to detect aura.”
That was all we needed. If walking on the streets could not only get us arrested, but potentially increase Senshield’s power, then going into hiding had to remain an option, even if we only used it as a last resort.
“On the subject of the core—do you think it can be easily replaced?” I said. “If we destroyed it, would they just build another?”
“Unlikely,” Warden said. “Not being a Sargas, I am no expert in ethereal technology—but I know it is complex, volatile, and delicate. If you destroyed the existing core, I imagine it would take them many years to return it to its current operational state.”
I could hear in his voice that this was educated guesswork, but it was something to go on, at least.
“Something else to bear in mind,” he said, “is that an improved Senshield will pose a great danger to the Night Vigilance Division. If it can be adjusted to detect all seven orders, there will no need for sighted clairvoyant officers. They will be redundant, and would consequently be . . . disposed of by Scion in the same way as other unnaturals.” He looked at me. “Some of them may well be willing to help you imperil the core.”
“Absolutely not,” Glym harrumphed. “The syndicate does not work with Vigiles.”
I had always thought Glym was a bit of a prankster, like Tom, but I had learned that he was quite the disciplinarian. He was taking the revolution seriously, at least, which was more than I could say for some of the Unnatural Assembly.
“If you do not extend the hand of friendship,” Warden said, “the night Vigiles will be eliminated.”
“Good,” Glym said.
“They are traitors.” Eliza pulled at one of her ringlets. “They chose to work for Scion.”
She received an approving look from Glym for this observation. It was a good one. “Warden makes a salient point.” Maria shrugged. “They’re potential recruits. Why waste them?”
“It would only be a temporary alliance,” I said to Warden. “Once Senshield is down, there’s no risk to their jobs.”
“A temporary alliance may be all that is needed.”
There was silence while I mulled it over. I could listen to counsel all I liked, but in the end, this would be my call. I was beginning to understand why my predecessor, Hector, had been able to abuse his power to such an extent: syndicate leaders were handed a lot of it. The voyants in this organization bowed before strength, and in the scrimmage, I had proven mine. That didn’t make me an expert in starting revolutions.
My instinct had always been to steer well clear of Vigiles, but what they could offer might be worth the flak I would get for giving them a chance. It would also drain numbers from Scion’s ranks.
“It’s something to bear in mind,” I concluded. “If we find ourselves in a situation where help from the Vigiles would be vital to our success, we’ll reconsider the matter. Until then, I don’t think we should risk approaching them.” Everyone seemed satisfied by the response. “For now, we need to decide on a course of immediate action. Dani, I want you to do your utmost to find out what Senshield’s core is—and where it is, more importantly. That’s our number-one priority.”
“Hang on a second.” Tom gestured to Danica. “Doesn’t the White Binder know that you work for Scion? And you’re still happy to work there?”
“Yep,” Danica said.
Nick looked troubled. “It’s strange, but he doesn’t seem to have given her away. I don’t trust him, so I left, but if he hasn’t said anything after three weeks—”
He trailed off.
“Warden has already checked with the Ranthen’s double agent,” I explained. “As far as we can tell, Dani isn’t being monitored. He’ll let us know if the situation changes.”
Tom’s brow relaxed out of its frown.
“While we work out how to disable Senshield, I want all of you to inform your mime-lords and mime-queens of the threat of these hidden scanners, as a matter of urgency,” I continued. “I want them sending reports to you about any they encounter. We need to work out which kinds of places have been targeted and keep the syndicate aware. I’ll have Grub Street distribute maps of all the known locations.” I tapped the table. “We also need to deal with the few who still support the White Binder. Bring them to heel.”
“They will forget any lingering fondness for him when I-4 has a new leader,” Glym said.
“No one has declared themselves to me.”
“They think Jaxon’s coming back,” Eliza said. “They’re all too scared to take his place.”
Of course. Even now Jaxon was gone, his shadow still lay across the citadel, as it had for decades.
Usually, the only way to change the leader of a section was if the current one was killed, and if no mollisher came forward to claim the title. There would be a power struggle within the section before someone declared themselves to the Unnatural Assembly.
I didn’t know if Jaxon had chosen a new mollisher before he left, and in truth, I didn’t care. I also didn’t want chaos while the syndicate tried to work out who was the best replacement.
“One of you must have a candidate in mind. I’d like you to encourage them to present themselves at the trial tomorrow. So we can put an end to this.” I stood. “I’ll send orders within a day.”
With murmurs of “goodnight,” the commanders left the hideout. As Nick and Eliza went to secure the building, I cleared away the papers.
Warden was the last to stand. For the first time in weeks, we were alone together. I kept my head down as he stepped toward the doorway.
“Are you leaving?”
“I must,” he said. “To speak with Terebell about what you have learned.”
I couldn’t stomach this atmosphere between us. The golden cord—the fragile link that had connected our spirits for several months—was supposed to tell me what he was thinking, what he was feeling, but all I sensed was an echo chamber for the void inside me.
“You must remove Jaxon’s remaining supporters, Paige.” He had stopped. “It is Terebell’s desire. Fail to do this, and you risk dissatisfying her.”
“You just heard me—”
“I was not referring to his supporters in general. You know which two I mean.”
Zeke and Nadine. I glanced at him from behind my hair. “Have you told Terebell that I haven’t evicted them from I-4?”
“Not yet.”
“But you will.”
“I may have no choice. She will ask.”
“And you’ll tell her.”
“You seem exasperated.”
“Do I really, Warden?”
“Yes.”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Terebell is obsessed with the tiny minority who support Jaxon,” I explained, calmer. “She needs to stop. I know she hates him—I know it’s personal for her, and for you—but having to think about it is distracting me from things we need to focus on, like Senshield.”
“She views your unwillingness to replace him as a sign that you are secretly loyal to your old mime-lord. That you await his return. Your refusal to expel Zeke and Nadine will only increase her suspicion.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake—” I shrugged on my jacket. “I’ll deal with it. Give me a few days.”
“You have delayed the matter because of Nick’s feelings for Zeke.”
“You might know Terebell’s mind, Warden, but don’t presume you have any insight into mine.”
He fell silent, but his eyes burned.
Heat fanned across my face. Before I could say anything more, I snatched up my bag and headed for the door.
“You may think me subservient to the Ranthen. Perhaps my respect for duty disappoints you,” he said. I stopped. “Terebell is my sovereign-elect. I owe her my service and my allegiance—but do not think me some mindless instrument of her will. I remind you that I am my own master. I remind you that I have defied the Ranthen. And still do.”
“I know,” I said.
“You do not believe me.”
A long breath escaped me. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”
Warden’s gaze darted across my features before he lightly touched the underside of my jaw, lifting my face. My heart thumped as I looked him in the eye.
The contact awakened something that had lain dormant for weeks, since the night before the scrimmage. As we watched each other, linked by the barest touch of his fingertips, I didn’t know what I wanted to do; what I wanted him to do. Leave me. Talk to me. Stay with me.
My hands moved as if by instinct—smoothing up to the rounds of his shoulders, settling at the nape of his neck. His palms stroked down the length of my back. I searched him the way I might search a map for a path I had known long ago, chasing the familiar, learning what I had forgotten. When our foreheads met, my dreamscape danced with the flames he always set there.
We were quiet for a while. My fingers found the hollow of his throat, where his pulse tolled—and I wondered, as I had before, why an immortal being had need of a heartbeat. I willed it to calm me, but it only made my own run faster. His hands rasped through my curls; I felt his breath flit over them, felt warmth race and rise beneath my skin. When I couldn’t stand the separation anymore, I wound an arm around his neck and closed what space was left between us.
It was lighting a fire after days in the rain. I pressed my mouth to his, feverishly seeking a connection, and he answered in kind. I tasted wine first, a hint of oak, then him.
The strain of staying away from him had almost snapped me in half. Now I was cradled to his chest, I had thought that strain would ease, but I only wanted him to hold me tighter, closer. We kissed with a hunger that was almost a hurt, an ache deepened by weeks apart. I felt for the door handle, found no bolt or key to protect us from discovery—but I couldn’t stop. I needed this.
His lips unlocked mine. Our auras intertwined, the way they always did. My heart pounded at the thought of Terebell or one of the other Ranthen walking in; the uneasy alliance being torn apart. “Warden,” I breathed, and he stopped at once—but now I had him back, I couldn’t bring myself to end this. I brought him back to me, his hands back to my waist. As I caught my breath, his lips grazed over the scar on my jaw and turned my skin as delicate as paper. Gently, he opened the top of my jacket and kissed my throat, brushing over the pendant that rested between my collarbones. A low sound escaped me as a shiver worked its way down my body.
I only sensed the dreamscape when it was far too close. With a jolt, I broke away from Warden and threw myself into the nearest chair. Maria strode in a moment later.
“Forgot my coat. Still here, Warden?”
He inclined his head. “Paige and I had a private matter to discuss.”
“Ah.” She grabbed her coat from the back of a chair. “Paige, sweet, you look . . . feverish.”
“I do feel a little warmer than usual,” I said.
“You should see Nick about it.” Maria looked between us. “Well, don’t let me keep you.”
She slung her coat over her shoulder and left.
Warden stayed where he was. My blood was hot and restless in my veins. I felt tender all over, like his touch had stripped off armor I hadn’t known was there. There was no one else close, no one else coming.
“I almost forgot about the hazards of being in your company,” I said, trying to sound light.
“Hm.”
Our eyes met briefly. I wanted, needed, to trust that this was real—but I was frozen by the reminder of the danger, and by the memory of Jaxon, that mocking laughter in his eyes. Arcturus Mesarthim is nothing but her lure. Her bait. And you, my darling—you fell for it.
“I should . . . get some sleep.” I stood. “It’s Ivy’s trial tomorrow.”
Her trial for being part of the gray market; for helping the Rag and Bone Man sell voyants into slavery.
“You will come to the right decision,” Warden said.
He knew, somehow, that I wasn’t sure what to do with her. “Is Terebell sending someone to witness the trial?”
“Errai.”
Great. Errai was about as friendly as a punch in the mouth. “Do not give me that look,” Warden said softly.
“I’m not giving you a look. I love Errai.” My smile faded almost as soon as it appeared. “Warden, I—never mind. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, little dreamer.”
The other three didn’t ask why I had taken so long to join them. Nick knew about Warden, and I had a feeling Eliza suspected. I sometimes caught her looking between me and Warden, eyes astir with curiosity.
We set off into the blizzard. As we fought our way through the wind, I tried not to think about what had just happened. Maria had come so close to seeing the truth, and while I doubted she would have gone to Terebell, she wouldn’t have been able to resist telling at least one of the other commanders. Our secret could have been out. No matter how much of a weight off my shoulders it had been to be close to him again, it was just too dangerous.
But I missed talking to him. I missed just being near him. I wanted him—but what I wanted might be an illusion. It had seemed so much simpler before I had become Underqueen.
When we passed a pharmacy at the end of a line of shops, Eliza stopped dead. Nick and I turned to look at her.
“It’s okay,” Nick said gently. “Come on. We’ll keep away from—”
“Everything?”
“You’ll be fine.”
Eliza hesitated before pressing on. We walked on either side of her, as if our auras could shield hers.
We never stayed long in our safe houses, but my favorite was the neglected terrace in Limehouse we arrived at now, which overlooked the marina. Once we were locked in, Danica went up to her room while Eliza retired to the cellar. I made myself a cup of broth.
One side of my head was beginning to throb. I didn’t know what we would do if we couldn’t get rid of Senshield. The location of its core must be top-secret, and the information that would help us was unlikely to seep into Danica’s department. It was hard not to give way to dread.
When I drank the broth, I hardly tasted it. I was exhausted from doubting everyone and everything. Suddenly I realized that no matter what I did next, I had to resolve my relationship with Warden. For three weeks, Jaxon’s words had sunk hooks in my mind and spread a poison of misgiving there. I had started to question Warden’s motives. To wonder if he was manipulating me on behalf of the Ranthen. They had chosen me to lead their rebellion, but they needed me to be willing. Pliable. Perhaps they thought a love-struck human, overcome by emotion, would be easy to influence. Perhaps they thought that if I wanted Warden badly enough, I would do anything for him.
Now paranoia swelled at the back of my mind every time I caught sight of him. More than likely, this was just what Jaxon wanted; more than likely, I was playing into my enemies’ hands.
There was only one thing to do about it. I could come right out and tell Warden what Jaxon had accused him of. Give him a chance to defend himself. It would take courage, but I wanted to be able to trust him.
In the parlor, Nick was sitting before the fire, leafing through reports. I could smell the wine on him from the doorway. He had always refused to touch alcohol until recently.
“You miss him,” I said quietly, dropping on to the couch beside him.
His voice was hoarse when he replied: “I miss him every minute. I . . . keep expecting to look up and see him.”
My conscience had stopped me throwing Zeke and Nadine out of Seven Dials. I had sent them an offer of shelter, regardless of their feelings toward me, but received no reply.
“Have you told Warden what Jaxon said to you?”
I glanced at him. “How did you know?”
“Same way you knew I was thinking about Zeke. I always know.”
We exchanged tired smiles. “If only Rephaim were so easy to read,” I said, sinking back into the couch. “No. I haven’t told him.”
“Don’t leave it too long. You never know when the chance to say things will just . . . disappear.”
We sat together in the gloom. He stared into the fire like he was trying to find something. I’d always thought I knew Nick Nygård’s face, down to the dent in his chin and the way his nose dipped slightly at the end. I had memorized how his pale eyebrows sloped upward, giving him a look of perpetual concern. But when the light found him at this angle, I sensed the unfamiliar.
“I keep imagining what Jaxon might have planned for him,” he said. “Look how badly Jax hurt you in the scrimmage.”
“Zeke isn’t trying to steal his crown.”
He grunted, but I couldn’t blame him for worrying.
“Terebell wants them gone, doesn’t she?” When I didn’t answer, he shook his head. “Why haven’t you done it?”
“Because I’m not heartless.”
“You can’t risk appearing to have sympathy for your old gang. Jaxon’s gang.” His voice was softened, on the cusp of slurring. “Do what you have to do. Don’t take my burdens on to your shoulders, sötnos.”
“I’ll always have room on my shoulders for you.”
Nick smiled at that and draped an arm around me. I didn’t know what I would have done without him on my side. If he had chosen Jaxon, his friend of eleven years, instead of me.
Neither of us wanted to be alone with our thoughts, so we stayed there, resting in front of the fire. Night had become a perilous time, when I sifted endlessly through paths I could or should have taken. I could have shot Jaxon in the Archon. I could have cut his throat in the scrimmage. I should have had the mettle to tell Warden the truth. I should have done better, done more, done otherwise.
I needed to consider what had been said at the gathering, but I was so worn out that I lost my train of thought and drifted back to sleep when I tried. Every time I woke, I thought Warden was with me. Every time I woke, there was less light in the fire.
Arcturus Mesarthim is nothing but her lure. Her bait. I remembered that long night when our dream-forms had touched for the first time. How easy it had been to laugh when I danced with him in the music hall.
And you, my darling—you fell for it. It felt real when he held me, but I might have been too trusting. Did he do it all on Terebell’s orders?
Was I a fool?
At some point Nick fell asleep, and then it was his words on my mind. I keep imagining what Jaxon might have planned for him.
I imagined, too. And so imagination became my nemesis; my mind created monsters out of nothing. I imagined how Scion would punish us if they found our nests of sedition. How Nashira would hurt those I loved if she ever got her hands on them.
I had sent people to check the apartment complex where my father lived. They had reported Vigiles outside. He might be in there, under house arrest. Or perhaps they were waiting for me.
A burner phone was in my jacket pocket. Carefully, I slid it free.
I hit the first key, lighting up the screen. My thumb hovered over the next number. Before I could press it, I replaced the burner and put my head down. Even if he was alive, Scion would have tapped his phone line. He had to forget me. I had to forget him. That was how it had to be.