Page 213 of The Bone Season

Michael went bravely to offer a drink to a Vigile. I accepted a finger sandwich from Crina, who gave me a nod.

It was only twenty past nine. Over an hour to kill, and small talk would be torture at this hellish party. I was already feeling the pinch of the shoes.

The hall flickered with candlelight and Chopin. As I wandered its edge, obscured by the gloom, I kept my focus off the æther. Too many people, crushed too close together. Instead, I observed the Rephs.

Several of them were newcomers to the city. Like Warden, they all scrubbed up very well. Some were on my side, but I had no way of telling which. I couldn’t blame them for hiding. If this rebellion failed, they wouldn’t just be scarred.

Liss executed a difficult climb, applauded by the guests. As I drank, I felt a tingle on my nape. Suhail watched me from a corner, his eyes ablaze.

I melted back into the crowd.

Warden now stood with Nashira, who was surrounded by an adoring flock of humans. I had to hand it to the Suzerain – she really was dressed to kill. Her hair was a golden cascade, matching the clasps of her cloak. From a distance, they were the perfect couple.

I gave them a wide berth. After seeing Nashira hit Warden, I had found it even harder to stomach the sight of their false courtesy.

My wandering took me into the arches under the gallery, where I leaned against a wall, safe in the shadows. Everyone in the hall but me was dressed for winter. My bare arms prickled with goosebumps.

The Rephs mingled like old friends with the emissaries, who were clearly both unnerved and mesmerised by these beautiful giants. It didn’t surprise me that they could launch a charm offensive when it suited them. They must have charmed the wits out of Lord Palmerston.

Terebell was talking to a French aide. I watched in silent fascination, shot with disgust, as Thuban laughed with Priscilla Lane, the Minister for Culture – the woman who oversaw all censorship. Of the two of them, I wasn’t sure who had the worse laugh.

Fortunately, Priscilla hadn’t brought her team of professional dryshites tonight – someone was presiding over the piano with a measure of talent. A magnificent organ dominated the back of the stage, but Warden would not be playing. I doubted Nashira even knew he could.

Ivy was nowhere to be seen. Over the weeks, I had done my best to track her down – of all the people in the city, she needed to be at Magdalen – but Thuban must have locked her in the Residence of Corpus. Two performers, both with grudges against Thuban, had attempted to break her out. Neither of them had returned.

Corpus was the only residence where we had no firm allies, but Ivy would be freed. Michael had found an amaurotic who knew where its spare keys were kept. With the rebellion in full swing, getting Ivy away would be easier.

I took a small bite of the sandwich. My nerves had kept me from eating all day.

‘You know there’s cake.’

David had sauntered to my side. A flux gun was holstered at his hip.

‘Savoy cake,’ he added, as if I cared. ‘After all, it is an anniversary.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘I can’t imagine why.’ He folded his arms. ‘I’ll give you some food for thought. Do you think Scion likes taking orders from the Rephs?’

‘Looking at all this, I’d say so.’

‘Some of them are buying into it,’ he conceded. ‘But the Rephs are clearly unnatural, and they’re in charge of Scion. That must be confusing the anchorites. All this is chafing against their overriding instinct – to fear what they don’t understand.’ He glanced at me. ‘Do you not think one person in history would have thought about resisting that hypocrisy from the inside?’

‘If they did, they clearly failed. Are you steering for a point, David?’

‘Just answer the question.’

‘They wouldn’t dare,’ I said. ‘They’re too afraid of the Buzzers.’

‘But you’re not.’ David lowered his voice. ‘I’ve been keeping an eye on your friend. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone about the purple aster.’

He was out of sight before I could answer. In a flash, my whole body turned cold.

David knew. He had a way of seeing things that others blinked and missed. If he went to Nashira now, the rebellion would die before it could begin. I thought of killing him, but stopped myself. If there was one thing more suspicious than poisoned soup, it was a corpse.

The clamminess was getting worse. The dress seemed to constrict around my ribs. When I tried to step outside, two Vigiles closed ranks in front of me.

‘I just need some air,’ I said. ‘You don’t want me to faint. I’m the main event.’

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