Page 48 of The Song Rising

“Eliza,” I said, too quietly for the crowd to hear, “get them to the medical wing. Bar the door.”

I rose and brazened out my subjects. Under those bloodthirsty stares, I wanted nothing more than to leave—but if I walked away now, if I showed them that I was afraid, I would lose all my power.

“Who,” I said, keeping my voice soft, “is responsible for this?”

Wynn cradled Ivy closer and wrapped her other arm around Róisín. Eliza coaxed them out.

“I’ll ask once more. Who cut Ivy?”

“She’s a traitor,” a voice said from the back. “Let everyone remember it. Letherremember it.”

“We don’t want her down here. Let the soldiers take her.” The sensor spat at Vern and wiped angrily at her nose. “Whose side are you on, Underqueen? First you don’t punish the Jacobite when she was helping sell us on the gray market—then you bring the army down on us—andit turns out you’ve helped them change Senshield. You’re worse than Hector ever was, and that’s saying something!” Shouts of agreement filled the tunnel. “Every sensor who’s detained from now on—that’s on you, Mahoney. Their blood is all over your dirty Irish hands.”

“Traitor,” someone bellowed.

“Traitor!”

“You showed them how to sense us,” a whisperer shouted. “It’s all right for you, dreamwalker! You’re seventh-order! So muchhigherthan the rest of us, aren’t you?”

“You’re helping Scion!”

“Vile augur-lover!”

More of them piled in, delighting in my downfall. Somebody hurled a shard of rubble, catching my cheek. I restrained my spirit from flying at the perpetrator. I had to rise above. To be strong. Nick shouted at them to get back, but nobody was listening. They screamed their wrath straight into my ears, so close that my face was freckled with spit, but I didn’t flinch.Tyrant. Murderer. Warmonger. Brogue.Traitor.Traitor. Traitor. Their voices became Jaxon’s voice; their many-headed rage, his vengeance. I would be damned if I took one step away, if I gave an inch. The syndicate had never bowed to cowardice.

“Nick,” I said, “take Jos back to the lower deck.”

“If you think I’m leaving you—”

“Do it.” Before he could argue, I raised my voice to the mob: “I don’t have time for this. The only traitors here are those who threaten the peace. If you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare this facility for the rest of the Mime Order. And thanks to this incident, it seems I’ll need to cordon off a holding cell. The next person to spill blood in here will spend a month in it.”

I strode straight through the sea of bodies. When the first hand grabbed my arm, I threw out my spirit.

Nobody tried to touch me again.

I marched between the bunks with my flashlight, through multiple sleeping areas, past another empty medical room and signs readingKITCHENandCANTEENandSTORAGE. When I reached the supervisor’s post, I crashed through its door and closed it behind me. Inside was a dead transmission screen, a desk without a chair, and a bunk that folded down from the wall. I lowered the bunk and sank on to it, aching from the four-mile trek.

In the tunnel, the shouting continued for a while before dying down. My nails bit into the skin of my palms.

I couldn’t be taken by surprise like that again. Law and order would be critical down here. I needed to rally my commanders and work out what to do next, but my confidence was running between my fingers. In a confined, pitch-black space, where nobody could blow off steam, a flicker of resentment could ignite a riot.

They were right to resent me. I had brought down the might of the Archon on our heads. These voyants had lived without many things in their lives, but by trying to fight Scion head-on, as no syndicate leader had before, I had taken away the one thing that had sustained them. I had taken away the streets.

My cheek was throbbing where the rubble had struck me. I had to think, and quickly. We had somewhere to hide, but we couldn’t last down here forever.

The only way to free the Mime Order was for a group of us to get back out there and use every available resource to find Senshield’s core and destroy it. The soldiers would still be there if we succeeded, but if they had no way to detect us, we could risk a return to the surface.

Where was it?I let my backpack slip on to the floor and wrenched it open, rifling through it for my map of London. Maybe there was a pattern in the scanners’ locations, or some abandoned place where they might be keeping the core—something, anything . . .

I stopped when I saw it. An envelope, nestled among my clothes, addressed to me. Danica’s handwriting.

Inside it was a note, hastily written.

Paige, as you’ll know by now, I’ve left. I applied for a transfer to Scion Athens after the scrimmage, and they approved it two days ago. I’m not the revolutionary, gung-ho, against-the-government type, and of you and Jaxon, you seemed like the easier person to run away from.

I would, however, like to leave you with a parting gift. It relates to Senshield.

She had never meant to stay with me, but it was clear that she hadn’t betrayed me. I read on.

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