Page 173 of The Bone Season

‘Nashira has been testing me. I think you’ve been doing the same. On Novembertide, you learned the hard way that some humans act in their own interests first. If you try again, you can’t repeat your mistake. You’ve been judging whether I’d be an ally or an enemy, trying to work out if I’m like the traitor – if I’m selfish enough to throw everyone here to the wolves to save my own skin, like him. Tell me I’m wrong, Arcturus.’

The silence was all the answer I needed.

‘And you’re still not really sure,’ I said, ‘because now you know who I am, and who I work for, and you can’t imagine that anyone like me could be trustworthy.’

The gramophone moved on to a new song.

‘I feared that, for a time,’ Warden said. ‘But then I learned something about you, Paige.’

‘What?’

‘You are a survivor of the Dublin Incursion.’

I couldn’t speak.

‘Very few were left alive that day,’ Warden said. ‘When they were, it was intentional. Scion needed eyewitnesses, to tell the rest of Ireland what had happened. To warn them of the bloodshed they would face if they resisted.’

‘You can’t know I was one of them.’ I stared at him. ‘I didn’t live in Dublin.’

‘No, but your aunt and your cousin did. Finn died that day, did he not?’

‘Is this in my records?’

‘No.’

‘Then how the hell do you know?’

Warden stood. He walked towards the hearth and placed a hand on the mantelpiece.

‘You have made your confessions. Now I will offer mine,’ he said. ‘You are right. I needed to be sure that you were not like the one who betrayed us.’

Even as he spoke, my mind was racing.

‘You mentioned Seven Dials,’ I whispered. ‘I never told you I lived there.’

‘But I knew.’ Warden glanced at me. ‘I also know the oracle is called Nick Nygård, and that he works for Scion. I know you were treated cruelly at school. I know your cousin left you during the Dublin Incursion.’

‘How long have you known all this?’

‘You know how long.’

My heart fluttered as if I had dreamwalked. I was on the brink of passing out.

‘What—’ I could hardly say it. ‘What are you?’

‘I can make a person dream their memories.’

My body turned nerveless and cold.

‘You’re an oneiromancer,’ I said faintly. ‘Aren’t you?’

Warden nodded.

Jaxon had theorised their existence years afterOn the Meritswas published, but never proved it. The oneiromancer was the inverse of most voyants. While many among us specialised in foresight, the oneiromancer sought wisdom in the past, finding clear vision in hindsight.

‘I’ve been remembering things since I got here.’ I got out of bed, grasping my side. ‘I thought I was hallucinating. I thought it was from the flux.’

Warden looked away.

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