Page 208 of The Bone Season

Fazal handed over the penny knife on his belt, while Julian gave up the cards. Lips pressed together, he glanced at me. I gave him a tiny nod.

‘Paige.’ Jos looked up at me tearfully. ‘Is Liss going to die?’

I couldn’t bring myself to answer. All I could do was grasp his shoulder, hoping to comfort him.

Warden tipped the vial against his thumb. I felt a twinge of guilt. Taking Liss by the chin, he dabbed a drop on each of her temples, and a third under her nose. Julian kept a firm grip on her limp and unresponsive hand. Warden offered him the knife, holding it by the blade.

‘Prick her fingers.’

Julian hesitated. ‘What?’

‘I require a little of her blood. If you care for her, you should do this.’

Steeling himself, Julian did as he was told, nicking each of her fingertips, drawing tiny beads of blood. Warden nodded his approval.

‘Spread the cards.’

Michael and I were the ones to do it, laying the deck in rows across the table. Warden took Liss carefully by the hand and wiped her fingers across the Major Arcana, smearing the pictures with blood.

Liss made no sound. The only sign that she was alive was the slightest rise of her chest. Warden kept going, now marking each of the suit cards.

Now the cards knew Liss, but Liss still did not know the cards.

Warden wiped the blade clean and returned it to Fazal. Next, he unlaced the cuff of his doublet and drew it up, showing the corded muscle of his forearm. He sliced his inner elbow, and his blood seeped from the cut, the same greenish yellow as his eyes, sharpening my perception. It cast all our faces in a strange light.

‘Wow,’ Jos breathed.

Michael smiled.

Nearby, spirits were gathering – drawn to a numen, to Liss, to Warden. It reminded me of a séance. The ectoplasm dripped on to the cards.

Warden gathered the deck back together and placed them on her breastbone, then folded her hands over them. He spoke in soft Gloss, and the æther quaked around us all, the light of his blood flickering.

Liss opened her eyes.

We all waited, on tenterhooks. Liss sat bolt upright, breathing hard. The deck fell into her lap. While she stared at it, we stared at her.

‘I’m still voyant,’ she said, stunned.

Before she could say another word, Julian and I had both embraced her, crushing her between us. She laughed weakly and clutched us back, tears on her cheeks. Suddenly mine were damp as well.

‘Liss.’ Julian kissed her brow. ‘We thought we’d lost you.’

‘You’d be so lucky.’ Liss grasped my hand. ‘Paige, how did you do this?’

Wordlessly, I looked up at Warden. Liss followed my line of sight and immediately recoiled against Julian, who curled an arm around her.

‘Warden,’ she said in a faint voice.

He inclined his head.

‘You will soon be missed in the Rookery, Liss,’ he said, ‘but you may stay in the halls of Magdalen until dusk falls anew, to recover your strength. You will need it for the weeks ahead.’

Without another word, he left the Old Kitchen, and the darkness swallowed him back into Magdalen. Part of me wanted to go after him, but all I could do was hold on to the shaking Liss.

‘He’s on our side,’ she said. I nodded. ‘Then we have a chance, Paige.’

‘Yes.’ I looked at Julian. ‘I need a favour, Jules. I want you to go back to the Rookery and tell everyone who will listen that I am the Pale Dreamer, heir of the White Binder. Tell them I survived the Dublin Incursion. Tell them that even the Rephs fear me – and that if we ever get out of here, you’re certain I would find a place for them in London.’

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