Page 241 of The Bone Season

I faced the huddle of prisoners. For the first time since their arrival here, they needed to be encouraged. They needed to hear a voice telling them that they were capable, that they were worth something, that everything was going to be all right, even if it was a lie.

That voice would have to be mine.

‘Scion left me alive in Dublin,’ I said, raising it enough that they could all hear. ‘That is not a mistake they’re going to make again. Right now, those Vigiles and their employers – even the Rephs – are terrified of us. They don’t want us to tell our stories. If they trap us here, they will leave no witnesses. No survivors. Each of us carries a secret Scion must deny. Each of us carries the key to its downfall.’

They all watched me, including Warden. My throat was already sore, and words had never been my forte, but I pressed on:

‘Listen to me, all of you. You fought your way to this meadow. You’re here,’ I said. ‘So are the people who died here twenty years ago, on Novembertide. Their spirits are with us now, ready to help.’ As I spoke, those spirits moved closer. ‘If you can hold the Vigiles off, I will open this hatch – and I promise you, when dawn breaks, you will be in London. And there will be no day bell to send us to our cells.’

There were murmurs of assent, of anger.

‘I know you’re all exhausted,’ I said, ‘but I need you to dig as deep as you can, and fight once more. I need you to defend me while I dreamwalk. Do this one last thing, and we can leave this hell for ever. You’ve fought so long, and so hard, and we are so close to freedom.’

Cyril swallowed. ‘Are you really the Pale Dreamer?’

‘I am,’ I said quietly.

‘Then you’ll help us find somewhere, once we get to London?’

‘I will.’

It was a lie. Without my position as a mollisher, I was nothing. I had no sway to get them work; I had nowhere to give them refuge. But I needed them to believe me, so they would fight to save themselves.

The prisoners shared weary looks. There were no battle cries, no shouts – nobody had breath or strength to spare – but in unison, they picked up their weapons and surged towards the incoming Vigiles. Nadine and Zeke flanked them, both firing at the enemy. The Novembertide spirits rallied, flying alongside my allies with a vengeance.

‘I need my oxygen mask,’ I said to Nick.

Nick reached into his boiler suit.

‘It’s running low,’ he warned, handing it over. ‘Make it count, Paige.’ As I lay on the grass, he looked hard at Warden. ‘You’d better keep her alive. If this goes wrong, I will hold you personally responsible.’

‘Gallows Wood is the only other way out of the city. Even if you survive the minefield, there is a wall,’ Warden said. ‘Unless you can think of an alternative, Dr Nygård, the train is your only means of escape. And Paige is your only means of accessing it.’

Nick pumped the shotgun and went after the others. I strapped the mask over my mouth and nose. It sealed and illuminated, confirming a steady flow of oxygen. Warden joined me on the ground.

‘Warden,’ I said, ‘if I don’t deactivate the padlock on time, don’t wake me. I can’t—’ My voice wavered. ‘I can’t watch them all die around me.’

‘I will not abandon you to the æther,’ Warden said. ‘You are stronger than you believe. If you can hold your own against Nashira Sargas and Jaxon Hall, a poltergeist will not defeat you, Paige Mahoney.’

He brushed my cheek. I wanted to be held again, in that moment – selfishly, like a fool. I was so tired, so threadbare from dreamwalking. My own gift, my greatest strength, was eating me alive.

Just one more fight, and I could go. Trusting Warden to guard my body, I leaned on him and dislocated, letting my spirit drift.

I sensed abrasion in the æther, just as I did when I stood near the fences. The hybrid technology was affecting it in a way that felt artificial and strange.

Unlike a ghost, a breacher was not meant to stay in one place for long. Forced into a haunt, this one had chiselled a space in the æther, like a tiny aching hole in a tooth, reflecting the confines of the padlock. I fit my own spirit into that space with it.

This cavity was not a dreamscape, but I found myself taking a shadowy form. In a rushing darkness, I could make out a faint outline.

Who are you?

The language was not one I had ever learned, but I could speak it.

No, please, don’t. I don’t want to die, the figure whispered.I don’t want to die.

I hear you. I mean you no harm.I saw without eyes, spoke with no voice.You haven’t been this way for long. Tell me how you died. Do you remember?

My neck snapped, as if I was hanged with a noose. I sat and waited to be saved. I was in pain. I could not move, it said.I am still bound in place, but I am glad. It was not my time to go, and I will not. It wasn’t fair, not fair, not fair.

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