Page 96 of The Bone Season

As a last resort, I opened each book and skimmed the foxed pages, searching for notes. When I came up empty-handed, I went flat on my stomach and slid a hand into the space under the shelf.

My first reward was a small glass jar. I opened it to find black ink, which smelled of marzipan. Next came the dip pen. Now scenting a reward, I reached as far as I could.

And there it was.

A leather-bound diary, splayed on the floor. I brought it out and blew dust off it.

My hopes had been too high. Someone had torn the pages out, sparing only the flyleaf. In the corner was a blurred sketch – something that could once have been a face, now smeared and disfigured. A tiny message was scrawled beside it. I held it to the light of my lamp.

How long will they haunt me for what I have done?

The crabbed writing gave me a shiver. The traitor could have written this. I wished there was a bibliomancer in the city, so they could try using this book as a numen.

Sitting with my lamp, I took a bit of stale toke from my pocket and gnawed it. It had been a while since I was last on my own. To my irritation, Warden had stopped disappearing. He was always reading or writing in the parlour, which meant I could never sit by the fire.

His injuries were still a mystery to me. Clearly he was fighting the Buzzers – but why keep that a secret when they were the enemy?

Why hide it from his own consort?

Pleione had brought him the unreadable. She must have known he would get hurt. Whatever he was doing, he was doing it in her confidence.

Warden had a secret, but I had one as well. I was hiding my link to the voyant underworld – a nest of traitors Nashira would want to burn away. I would live with his silence so he would fail to notice mine.

Somehow I drifted off on the floor, my head on a stack of books. Even in London, I had never slept enough – Jaxon had always overworked us.

A rough shake brought me back to reality.

‘Paige!’

Liss was in front of me, eyes wide. I rubbed mine, confused by the brightness.

‘What?’

‘You overslept,’ she hissed. ‘It’s nearly ten in the morning. Warden sent the red-jackets to look for you.’

Now I was wide awake.

‘You’re lucky they didn’t find you before I did,’ Liss said, taking my arm to drag me up. ‘You’re not supposed to be in the Old Library.’

‘I picked the lock.’ I scraped my hair back. ‘Liss, it’s fine. Warden ignores me.’

‘He’s ignored you because you’ve kept your head down. Now you need to beg forgiveness. Even then, he might punish you.’

‘I won’t beg him for anything.’

‘You’re going to have to swallow that muckle great ego of yours.’ Liss glared at me. ‘Grit your teeth and beg. You need to live.’ She grabbed my hands, staring. ‘If he sees ink on you, he’ll know where you’ve been. Come to my place first. We’ll get this off.’

‘Liss, no. You’ll get in—’

‘Better they find you with me than realise where you really were,’ Liss said firmly. ‘We’ll get you out quick. There’s a secret way you can use.’

I kicked the diary back under the bookshelf, hiding the evidence. We ran down the steps, back into the open.

In the Townsend, Liss held me back. Once the coast was clear, we ran towards the edge of the Rookery. Liss forced two plywood boards apart, and we squeezed into a crawl space, thick with dust and rat droppings, emerging in the passage by her shack.

Julian waited inside, a bowl of skilly on his knee. He looked up when we ducked inside.

He was wearing a pink tunic.

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