Page 100 of The Song Rising

“No,” Warden said. “There is no spirit inside it.”

“Let’s see.”

Warden handed me the capsule. Its surface gave way just a little when squeezed. I pressed it between my finger and thumb until it ruptured, releasing a tiny amount of liquid—glowing yellow-green liquid, with an oily consistency. Lucida let out a hiss of Gloss.

“What is that stuff?” Eliza said.

“Ectoplasm.” I ran it between my fingers. “Rephaite blood.”

Handling it drank the warmth from my skin. The æther glittered around me, making me light-headed.

Warden’s face was taut in a way I had never seen it before. I felt the barest shadow of his reaction through the cord: disgust.

“No ethereal battery makes use of Rephaite blood. This is a different sort of device. Notice that the ectoplasm is luminous,” he said. “Usually, a certain amount of time outside a Rephaite’s body will darken and crystalize it, extinguishing its properties. This has been kept active.”

“How?” I asked.

“I cannot say.”

Warden paced slowly around the gun. His eyes flamed brighter with every step.

I watched him. “What are you thinking?”

“There are only two Rephaim who would have had the necessary security clearance, and sufficient knowledge of the æther, to help create this technology. Nashira and Gomeisa Sargas,” he said.

He kept pacing. Nobody else spoke while he considered.

“As I told you in the colony, Paige, Nashira’s gift is similar to that of a binder—though far more dangerous, as she can not only control a spirit, but steal the gift it had in life,” he finally said. “Let us suppose that she found a spirit with a gift that allowed for particularly good detection of the æther. She could bind it to every Senshield scanner, and every gun, through this.” He nodded to my fingers. “Through her own blood. By placing a drop into each scanner, she has been able to link every one to this spirit and imbue them with its gift. The spiritisthe core. It powers all of Senshield and every scanner—all through the conduit of Nashira’s blood. That is my supposition.”

“That’s . . . quite a supposition,” Maria said.

I wiped the liquid off on my jacket, disturbed by the thought that it might have once flowed through Nashira.

“A binder’s blood is like ethereal glue,” Eliza murmured. “That’s what Jaxon used to say. He could smear a bit of his blood onto an object to compel a spirit to stay beside it.”

“He couldn’t attach one spirit tomanyplaces,” Nick said.

“But Nashira isn’t a normal binder, is she? She must be a sort of . . . super-binder.”

Lucida, I noticed, had stiffened at the sound of Jaxon’s name.

“Would Nashira ever do that?” I wasn’t sure I believed it of her. “Would she really let humans take pints of her blood and put it into hundreds, thousands of scanners?”

Warden was still looking at the gun.

“Perhaps,” he said.

“Does that mean—” I couldn’t face this possibility. “Does that mean there is no physical ‘core’—that it’s just a spirit? One of her fallen angels?”

“Where would it be kept?” Maria said. “Here in Edinburgh?”

“Not necessarily,” Warden said. “The spirit could be anywhere.” He paused. “But . . . it is most likely with Nashira. Wherever she is.”

My legs could no longer take my weight. I sank into a chair.

“Are you saying we have to destroy Nashira?” I said very softly. “That’s the answer?”

“Or banish the spirit.”

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