Page 5 of The Dawn Chorus

I had thought I could avoid infection. I had been sure that if I didn’t eat or drink anything, I would be fine. Clearly not. I must have touched something contaminated, or breathed the sickness in.

Warden had limited supplies, but among them were a sizeable box of anti-nausea pills and some packets of rehydration salts. After tending to as many of the harlies as I could, I had gone to see my friends. Liss was well enough. Julian, however, had been heaving over a pot when I arrived. We had helped him to drink tiny sips of skilly.

I needed them to be all right. I needed them both to make it out of here alive with me.

The bell pealed for dusk. Even though I was weak as a lamb, thirst hauled me out of bed.

A roaring fire lit the chamber below, and ‘In the Chapel in the Moonlight’ drifted from the gramophone. Warden was writing in a book with ruffled pages.

‘Good evening, Paige,’ he said.

‘I’m not well.’

‘I am sorry to hear it. What are your symptoms?’

‘I feel sick to my stomach, my head is about to explode, and I’m having visions,’ I said, ‘so unless I’ve turned into an oracle, I’m either ill or mad. Madness is a possibility, of course, since I’ve now been a prisoner for … what, five months?’

‘I think it more likely that you paid a visit to the Rookery.’ When I said nothing, he set down his pen. ‘Do you take pleasure in opposing me, even when what I ask is for your benefit?’

‘I do take a little pleasure in it,’ I confessed, ‘but on this occasion, I wasn’t thinking about you at all. I’m just not willing to skulk up here while my friends are in danger.’

‘So you chose to putyourselfin danger, despite the fact that our plan hinges on your survival.’

‘And you’ve never put yourself at risk to help somebody else?’

It was his turn not to reply.

Of course he had. He had done all this before. Staked everything on a rebellion that had ultimately failed.

‘I would offer you some remedy,’ Warden said, ‘but my stores appear to have been emptied.’ He looked hard at me. ‘I know our understanding is by no means equal to a friendship, but I do not appreciate being stolen from. Not now we have a common purpose.’

‘Shouldn’t have brought a thief into your tower, then, should you?’ I steadied myself on the wing chair. ‘If I’d asked, you might have refused. Like you refused to bring Liss and Julian in here.’

‘A decision I have already explained.’

‘An explanation I’ve already decided is bullshit.’

‘You are entitled to your opinion.’

‘Well, thank you. I really neededyouto remind me that I’m permitted an opinion.’

Warden held my gaze for a moment, then returned his attention to whatever he was writing.

He was trying. I knew what a risk he had already taken for Liss, and it was hard enough for him to keep me and Michael safe without arousing suspicion. Still, sometimes my bitterness about being here boiled over, and he was the one it tended to scald.

Iwasbitter. Yet part of me was relieved that he had brought me back – because even if escape had been at my fingertips in London, I saw now that seizing it would have been the wrong choice. It would have meant abandoning Liss and Julian. Abandoning them all. This place would have haunted me, and I might never have been able to get back to it.

No. I needed to finish this first, to destroy this horrific place from within. Then I would leave, and I would take everyone with me. All of us would escape to London.

‘I was trying to protectyou,’ I told Warden. He stopped. ‘The harlies saw you heal Liss. That might have put you in good standing, but you need to secure their loyalty, Warden.’

‘I offer them freedom. Surely that outplays whatever Nashira can use to tempt them.’

‘Right. As if the harlies would refuse food if she offered it. Or blankets. Or a cup of clean water.’ When he just looked at me, I shook my head. ‘You know, for this … ancient being of the eternal twilight, or whatever, you’re naïve to the point of being absurd.’

‘Educate me, then.’

‘Fine. You’re asking the harlies to choose life-threatening change over the status quo. The status quo – while terrible – is slightly easier to bear than death and torture.’

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