Page 140 of The Bone Season

‘Not just at the end. I left during the second year,’ I said. ‘I know the song you mean.’

‘I would love to hear it again.’

I wished I could bear to share it with him. The last time I had heard it, my family had been gathered in secret in the Golden Vale, remembering Finn and Kay. With no bodies to bury, all we had been able to do was sing and remember, huddled around two empty graves.

‘Maybe I’ll sing it one day.’ I hitched up a smile. ‘Do you like music, Zeke?’

‘Yes, a lot. I used to be great at the piano,’ Zeke said wistfully. ‘I love listening to Nadine – she is a violinist – but she doesn’t really like to play.’

Nick gave me a worried look. A whisperer who didn’t like to play her instrument.

That really was a rarity.

It was only a short drive. Nick returned the car to its garage on Rose Street, and we headed on foot to Seven Dials.

The den was a cosy maisonette above a coffeehouse – three floors, including the garret. Jaxon was a man of fine tastes, but he seemed content with his small home.

For months, I had been learning the ropes of the underworld in this house of golden brick. I had learned about the gangs and their leaders, the trade and auction of spirits, their haunts. Now Jaxon was starting to test my gift.

Not long ago, I had been able to consciously crack my spirit out of place. I had immediately stopped breathing. Jaxon and Eliza had panicked, but Nick had revived me with a syringe of adrenalin to the heart. Even though my chest had hurt for a week, I had glowed with pride when Jaxon congratulated me. The four of us had gone out for supper to celebrate, and Jaxon had ordered life support for next time.

I belonged with these people. They understood the strangeness of my life – a life I was finally beginning to embrace. We had carved out a little world in Seven Dials. We thrived in that world, in defiance of Scion.

Now there were two strangers in our midst. Two brave strangers, willing to abandon their old lives to be part of that world.

Nadine gave the building a wary look. I had expected her to have an instrument case, but there was nothing. Maybe she wasn’t a whisperer. There were at least three other strains of sensor she could be.

I used my keys to open the red door. At the top of the stairs was Jaxon, dressed to impress: silk waistcoat, stiff white collar, glowing cigar. He held a small cup of coffee in the other hand. I tried and failed to work out how a cigar and coffee could make a compatible pair.

‘Zeke, Nadine,’ he said warmly. ‘Good to see you again.’

Zeke cleared his throat. ‘And you, Mr Hall.’

‘Jaxon, please. Welcome to Seven Dials,’ he said. ‘As you know, I am mime-lord of this territory, and you are now members of my coterie. I presume you left Judd Street in a surreptitious fashion, Nick.’

‘No one saw us.’

‘Good. Eliza will just need a few things from you,’ Jaxon added to the newcomers. ‘To help craft the impression that you have been tragically murdered.’

‘That’s me.’ Eliza waved from his side. ‘Welcome home.’

‘Thank you for your help, Eliza.’ Zeke tensed. ‘Is that a spirit?’

Jaxon glanced up. ‘Yes, that’s Pieter Claesz, Dutch vanitas painter – died in 1660. One of our more prolific muses. Pieter, come and meet our new friends.’

‘Zeke can do the honours. I’m tired.’ Nadine slid her bag off her shoulder. ‘I want my own room. I don’t share my space. Just so that’s settled.’

Jaxon looked at her without blinking, and his nostrils flared. Not a good sign.

‘You will have what you are given,’ he said. ‘Unlike the building you just left, this is not a hotel.’

Nadine bristled. Nick quickly ushered her towards the stairs. ‘Of course you’ll have your own room,’ he said to her, giving me a resigned look over her head. ‘Eliza put you with Zeke – we don’t have much space – but I’m sure she can arrange something.’

Eliza smiled. ‘I really don’t know how any of you managed without me.’

‘We simply languished,’ Jaxon said, still eyeing Nadine.

‘We did.’ Nick sidled past him. ‘Can I get you something to drink, Nadine?’

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