Page 19 of The Song Rising

“Vigiles.” Nick was already moving. “We can—”

“Wait,” I said.

Two more crashes. Those weren’t human dreamscapes outside. Slowly, I released my clutch of spirits.

“No. It’s the Ranthen.”

Nick swore.

I stepped across the hallway and cracked the door open, leaving it on its chain. Chartreuse eyes flashed—just before the chain tore away from the frame and the door was flung wide.

The impact caught me hard in the shoulder. I had barely absorbed it before a gloved hand seized the front of my jacket and pinned me against a wall, making Eliza and Nick shout out in protest. For the first time since the scrimmage, my spirit snapped out like an elastic band—only to ping off an armored dreamscape and slam back into my body. Red-hot pain streaked up one side of my face and burrowed deep into my temple.

“I see now,” Terebell Sheratan said, “that you were a poor investment, dreamwalker.”

Several of the Ranthen followed her into the hallway. Nick pointed his pistol at her hand. “Let go of her. Now.”

The ache was swelling uncontrollably. I tried not to let it show, but my eyes watered.

“If you were a Rephaite, I might excuse your lack of punctuality, but you are mortal,” Terebell said. I made myself look her in the face. “Every second chips away at your lifeline. Do not try to convince me that you cannot tell the time.”

“There’s a curfew,” Nick said. “In effect as of tonight. We had to turn back.”

“It does not supersede your duty to meet me.”

“You’re being unreasonable, Terebell.”

“Rich words for a human,” Pleione said. “Your species is the very definition ofunreasonable.”

A storm of black flecks crossed my vision. As the iron grip tightened enough to leave bruises, I saw Warden come through the door. He hadn’t observed the scene for more than a second before the light in his eyes ignited, and he barked at Terebell in Gloss. She threw me, like I was nothing but a sack of flour, toward Nick, who caught me by the arms.

“How dare you?” Eliza said hotly. “Don’t you think she took enough punishment in the Rose Ring?”

“You will not speak to the sovereign-elect in that manner,” Pleione said.

Eliza bristled. I pressed my hands to my forehead, willing the pain to disappear.

“Paige,” Nick murmured. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do not affect illness,” Errai sneered.

“Please, Errai, just give it a rest,” I forced out.

“What did you say to me, human?”

“Stop, all of you,” Warden said curtly. “This is not the time for petty disagreements. The curfew, along with Senshield, will seriously restrict syndicate activity if we cannot produce a solution.” He closed the door. “The Mime Order is a union of both Ranthen and syndicate. We pose a far greater threat to them together than divided. If you cannot see that, then you are all fools.”

There was a tense silence. Every hair on my arms stood on end; I had never heard Warden speak with so much authority in the presence of the other Ranthen. Nick lowered his gun.

“If everyone’s cooled off,” I said, “perhaps we could begin the meeting.”

Terebell swept into the parlor, shadowed by the Ranthen. “Bring wine, dreamwalker.”

A flush crept into my face.

“Paige, I’ll get it,” Nick said, but I was already heading for the kitchen.

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