Page 72 of The Bone Season

‘The Suzerain was wise to test him swiftly,’ the Overseer said. ‘I hear the visions were spectacular.’

‘I hope to serve the Suzerain for a very long time,’ the oracle said. ‘I’m grateful to her for clearing my eyes. In all my visions, I never saw a purpose for myself. Now I have a path laid for me.’

Either this man was an excellent liar, or he meant it. From his easy smile and the hands in his pockets, you would think he was comfortable here.

‘I see,’ Warden said.

‘You ought to hurry back to Merton, 12,’ the Overseer said. ‘Give Pleione my regards.’

‘I will,’ the oracle said. ‘Thank you for your hospitality, Overseer.’

He made himself scarce.

‘How fortunate that our paths crossed,’ the Overseer said smoothly to Warden. ‘If I may be so bold, I had been hoping to extend an invitation to the dreamwalker. By your leave.’

Warden just looked at him.

‘This September,’ the Overseer said to me (apparently taking the frigid silence as permission), ‘a party will be held in honour of the twentieth Bone Season, to celebrate the two hundred years since the arrival of the Rephaim.’

‘You refer to the Bicentenary,’ Warden said.

‘Precisely. During the festivities, the Great Territorial Act will be signed.’

That didn’t sound good. Before I could hear any more, a vision flashed in front of me.

Nick was an oracle. He received visions from the æther, but he could also form and send them himself. 12 had the same ability. I glimpsed a clock at noon or midnight, then a flight of steps I knew.

‘Get to the point, Overseer,’ Warden said. I blinked the picture away. ‘There are matters that require my attention in Magdalen.’

The oracle had stopped on the corner of Grove Lane. He raised his eyebrows at me. When I gave him the slightest nod, he walked away.

‘Of course,’ the Overseer said, his voice as soft as oil. ‘I have written a masque for the Bicentenary, which requires many participants. I wondered if 40 might like to join us, as our guest of honour. I was impressed by her strength and agility on the night I captured her, and my rooks could use some inspiration. Perhaps you would permit her to learn one of the performing arts alongside her combat training. I daresay she would make a fine dancer.’

I was about to tell him where to stick his dancing when Warden did it for me, in as many words: ‘As her keeper, I forbid it.’

I looked up at him.

‘She is not a performer,’ Warden said, ‘and unless her conduct forces me to evict her, she remains in my keeping. I will not allow her to be paraded like a common seer. The oracle may be our first in decades, but a dreamwalker is another matter entirely.’

The Overseer managed to keep his smile up. No doubt he was used to being rebuffed.

‘Very good, my lord,’ he said. ‘Goodnight.’

Once he was gone, Warden said, ‘Do you know the oracle?’

‘No,’ I said.

‘He never took his eyes off you.’

‘Probably just interested in my aura,’ I said. ‘Isn’t everyone?’

Warden looked hard at me, then walked on. I followed him towards the flickering lights of Magdalen.

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

When we got back to the Founders Tower, Warden sat at his desk, writing. I sat by the fire for a while, just so I could warm up. He let me.

I watched a candle burn to nothing. Once I had got a glass of water, I plucked up the nerve to ask if I could retire to my quarters. He gave me a curt affirmative.

---