Page 64 of The Bone Season

‘Sharp one, aren’t you?’

‘Hm.’ He set the book aside. ‘What does your dreamscape look like, Paige?’

The directness of the question caught me off guard. In the syndicate, that was something you only shared with trusted friends.

‘A poppy field,’ I said, wary. ‘Why?’

‘I was curious.’

‘Right. Any chance of something to eat, now your curiosity is satisfied?’

He looked away from me, into the fire.

‘Go to the Porters’ Lodge,’ he said. ‘I will meet you there.’

After a moment, I did as he said, my stomach grinding with hunger.

I reached the Porters’ Lodge just as the bell rang, ending the curfew. The night porter noticed me and removed her reading glasses.

‘There you are,’ she said. ‘Bear with me.’

If she was angry, she didn’t show it. Instead, she walked out. After a few minutes, she returned with a small bowl of porridge, thicker than skilly.

‘For training.’ She handed it to me with a spoon. ‘You’ll need it.’

‘Thank you,’ I said.

She returned to her work. I ate the warm porridge with caution, half expecting her to snatch it from my hands. By the time Warden arrived, I had scraped the bowl clean and given it back.

‘Good evening, Gail,’ he said to the night porter. ‘I am bound for Port Meadow.’

‘Of course. I’ll sign her out.’

I glanced at him. It piqued my interest that he called us by name in Magdalen.

As soon as I thought it, I shook my head. The bar was on the floor.

‘Do not open the door for anyone but me.’ Warden took a lantern from a bracket. ‘The creature may still be loose in the city.’

‘No one will go in or out,’ Gail said. ‘What time do you intend to return?’

‘No later than midnight.’

She nodded and opened the door for us, letting in an icy gust of wind.

Warden took me along Magdalen Walk and made a right on Turl Street. We passed the Rookery, which was almost deserted, before taking the long thoroughfare that ran past Amaurotic House.

The performers must still be in hiding from the Buzzer. I reached for the æther, but couldn’t sense anything out of the ordinary.

‘That book you were reading,Frankenstein,’ I said. ‘It’s blacklisted.’

‘Yes,’ Warden said.

‘So is the music on your gramophone.’

‘Indeed.’

And those were the only answers I got. I blew out my cheeks and trudged after him.

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