Page 21 of The Song Rising

Reassuring.

“It would help our cause if we could convince our potential allies that you are a loyal and capable associate,” Terebell went on. “Many of our old friends are disturbed by the notion that we must work with humans, given what happened . . . last time.” Her face turned colder.

“How would you like me to prove my loyalty?”

“Show us that you are willing to do whatever is necessary for this movement to make progress.” She handed back her empty glass. “I understand that you have finally replaced the arch-traitor. I assume you have also expelled the remaining members of the Seven Seals, in accordance with my orders.”

“Jaxon’s gone, Terebell. He’s not coming back,” I said, hoping she would miss the evasion. “We need to focus on deactivating Senshield, or else we will find ourselves unable to leave the house, let alone start a revolution. Warden said it might be powered by ethereal technology, and we have a list of places where we know the scanners have been hidden, but we need more information.” When none of them volunteered any, I pursed my lips. “Lucida, you’re a Sargas. Youmustknow something. Do you know why they’re rolling Senshield out earlier than they originally projected? What could be powering it?”

Lucida turned away. I doubted she liked to remember which family she belonged to.

“Only the blood-sovereigns know how Senshield works,” she said. “Perhaps the Grand Commander, too. As to why they are increasing the number of scanners, I can only suppose that they wish to tighten their control of the capital to counter the threat of the Mime Order.”

“Senshield’s core may be powered by an ethereal battery: a poltergeist inside a physical casing,” Mira Sarin said. Her voice was soft and cool. “The battery contains and channels the energy the poltergeist creates. Something to consider.”

Ethereal batteries. I remembered them from the colony. The Rephaim had used them to power fences that no voyant could touch without receiving a shock, or to create padlocks that couldn’t be opened until the poltergeist was banished. I tried not to think of Sebastian Pearce, whose spirit had been used inside one.

“Say itisan ethereal battery,” I said. “How could it be destroyed? By banishing the spirit—or destroying the physical casing?”

“Either, I should think.”

“Desecration,” Errai muttered. “Grafting ethereal energy with human machinery . . . the Sargas continue to disgrace us.”

“What’s wrong with human machinery?” I said.

“It poisons the air and taints the ground. Much of it feeds on fuel made of putrefying matter. It is inelegant and destructive. To force it into a union with the energy of the æther is profane.”

When he put it like that, I had no argument.

“Errai speaks the truth. I approve of your proposal to rid us of the Senshield core,” Terebell said to me, “but I expect you to seek my authorization before you take any action.”

“Can I expect to authorize your decisions, too?”

“Not until you fund my decisions, as I fund yours.” She turned her back on me. “You can contact me through Lucida, who will stay behind. The rest of the Ranthen will join me in the Netherworld.”

“Warden is our best instructor,” I said. “I’d prefer him to stay with the Mime Order. And I’ll need him to help me if I’m planning to dreamwalk again.”

“I am putting an end to your training with Arcturus.”

I looked at him, then at her back. “What?”

“You heard me. If you require assistance with your ability, you may ask Lucida.”

Warden kept his gaze on the fire. I was conscious of my pulse, sharp and crystal-clear. “Lucida doesn’t train voyants.”

“True,” Lucida said airily, “but one has to start somewhere.”

“I don’t know how my recruits will respond to you. I do know how they’ll respond to Warden—that they respect him—and I need that certainty. Things are about to get a lot harder for them, with the curfew and Senshield.” I turned to him. “Warden, we need you here.”

My tone was even, but it sounded all too much like an entreaty. Terebell looked at him.

“I must do as the sovereign-elect commands,” Warden finally said.

Such a small number of words to drain so much strength from me.

One look, and he belonged to her.

To Terebellum Sheratan, you are a convenient pawn in an age-old game.I had stifled that voice for a few days, but now it filled my ears.Arcturus Mesarthim is nothing but her lure. Her bait.

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