Page 228 of The Bone Season

‘Warden,’ I murmured.

‘I have you.’ He brushed a curl out of my eyes. ‘You should not have attempted a second possession. The first display was more than enough.’

‘You knew I was … an opportunist.’

‘I did.’

His arms drew me closer, warming my skin. The poltergeist might not have been able to touch me, but the ethereal skirmish had left a chill.

Warden must be waiting for someone. Given our lack of time, it had to be for a good reason. With no choice but to trust his intentions, I leaned on his chest and checked out for a moment, succumbing to exhaustion – only to jolt awake at the deafening blast of a shotgun.

There had been no shotguns in the House. They were also not standard issue for Vigiles. The one place I had seen one was the black market.

Danica had bought it.

Warden had carried me to the gallery, above the turmoil. Bursts of gunfire lit the ceiling, the sound cutting right through my head. Two hammers drove hot nails into my temples. A drill was boring straight into the bone above one eye, setting off a deep throb. Every faint sound was too much to bear. Even his eyes were a little too bright.

As if he could tell, they dimmed. He hitched me up, so I could lean forward, and helped me stem my fresh nosebleed. From the taste, it was heavy.

‘Help is coming,’ he said, his voice calming me. ‘This pain will not last.’

‘Nashira.’ I forced her name out. ‘Where is she?’

‘For now, she has retreated. She may be trying to save the Residence of the Suzerain.’

I reached out to the æther, to pinpoint her, but my eyes watered in protest.

‘Balliol,’ I said thickly, grasping Warden. ‘Did they—’ He leaned closer to my lips to hear me, and I tried again: ‘Did someone cut the power?’

‘Gail assured me she would. London will not hear of this until it is too late.’ He glanced up. ‘Julian and his allies seem to have done their part. The residences are burning. They have also set bonfires across the city, to further divide attention. Our rebellion has begun, Paige.’

‘Good.’ I kept hold of his sleeve. ‘How long until the train leaves?’

‘Fifty minutes.’

‘Then why … are we still here?’

‘The Vigiles have almost surrounded the Guildhall. Terebell is leading our allies through a secret corridor, but she cannot move too many at once, or our escape route will be spotted.’ Warden ran a hand over my hair. ‘They came for you, Paige. The Seven Seals came.’

Before I could fully absorb this, Liss landed catlike in the gallery, barefoot and dishevelled, cheeks flushed. She rushed straight to my side.

‘Paige—’

She had taken off most of her costume, leaving her in skintight black, her face still flecked with stage blood.

‘Liss,’ I rasped. ‘You need to go.’

‘Not yet.’ She looked at Warden. ‘Are you getting help for her?’

‘Yes. You should make for the meadow as soon as you can, Liss.’

Liss shook her head. ‘Too many people are still trapped in here, and the Vigiles are taking shots while they get the emissaries out. I have to help.’

‘Liss.’ I reached for her. ‘Thank you. For the song.’

‘They deserved to be reminded.’ Liss crouched to press my hand, her grip firm. ‘Get well, Paige. We need you strong.’

She leapt back off the balustrade and caught her purple silks, which now hung almost to the floor. From what I could make out, she and Nell were using them to swing across the hall, distracting the Vigiles.

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