Page 199 of The Dark Mirror

We turned at a rumble from above. The fog had thinned above the Tiber, and I saw a distant flash of wings. I hadn’t known a thing about military vehicles when I was in the gang, but I had familiarised myself with the entire fleet of the Inquisitorial Air Force as Underqueen, wanting to know what sort of firepower the Mime Order was up against. From what I could make out, this resembled a strike aircraft, used for close air support.

It was heading straight towards us, its engines roaring. Hundreds of people ran to get out of its way. For a terrible instant, I thought it really was a Scion plane, coming to punish us for our defiance. Then I looked over my shoulder to see another swarm of Buzzers.

I covered my ears as the plane opened fire. A spray of bullets mowed down the street, followed by two missiles in quick succession, which collided with the swarm, exploding with enough force to shake the ground. The plane soared upward and vanished into the mist.

‘Paige.’

Arcturus steadied me. I leaned into him, reminding myself that he was there, that I didn’t have to find him.

Some of the Buzzers were still moving, their limbs reaching out of the smoking pile. As I gazed at the devastation, I began to understand the full implications of this day. This had been planned. Nashira had always been ready to show her cards when the right moment arose.

Scion must have realised that people were catching wind of the Rephs, and now, for the first time in two centuries, it was revealing the power of the Netherworld. It was showing us all that it possessed a weapon like no other, something that its enemies would never understand. If we had thought to steal a march on Scion, we had failed.

There was no coming back from this. Whatever the outcome, everything was about to change.

We kept running and skulking towards the Colosseum. Every last Buzzer would now be converging on this ruin, making it nearly impossible to sequester the latent Rephs.

Not all of us would get out of this alive.

More Buzzers raced ahead of us. Maria and Eliza took shots at them, as did every soldier in the vicinity. One of them hefted a flame-thrower, and a jet of flame roared towards the Buzzers. Crafting a spool, Maria sent it through the fire. One after the other, the spirits ignited, carrying her numen, and the spool burst apart in all directions, lighting up at least half of the monsters. The flame seemed to protect the spirits, allowing them to avoid being sucked into those terrible dreamscapes. Errai watched, his mask reflecting the glow.

‘What sort of beings would create such weapons?’

‘You’ll be grateful for them in a minute.’ I pulled the ring from a grenade. ‘Stay back.’

I hurled the grenade at the Buzzers. The explosion shattered the pavement around them, setting off another round of unearthly screams. Another spool came spinning over my head and sent a Buzzer up in flames, right as a missile shot from the fog and clipped a nearby building. I coughed as dust covered us all.

We passed the Forum. Nick helped Eliza, who was short of breath and slowing.

‘Eliza,’ he said, ‘go to the Council of Kassandra. You can’t do anything against Fitzours.’

‘No. I’m not letting you—’

‘If all three of us die, Jaxon is the only one left with a right to the Rose Crown. We can’t risk that,’ I said, speaking over a barrage of gunfire. ‘Please, Eliza. Stay here.’

‘Are you going to fight the other dreamwalker?’

‘I’ve not much choice.’ I gave her a light push. ‘Go on.’

She relented, running towards the Forum.

Ahead of us, the Colosseum loomed from the fog. The failing sunlight bestranged it, turning its many arches into lidless eyes. We stopped at the entrance, finding no guards to stop us.

‘It was here?’ Nick said. ‘Why didn’t we go here first?’

‘I cannot always judge the distance,’ Pleione said. ‘But there are many latent Rephaim within these walls.’ She turned her yellow gaze on me. ‘Do you sense the other dreamwalker, Paige?’

‘Yes, he’s here. So are Castor and Kornephoros, and—’ My blood iced over. ‘Shit. It can’t be.’

‘Who is it?’

‘Gomeisa.’

I had missed his dreamscape, with the contamination in the æther. The Reph who had personally overseen the conquest of Ireland. As a child, I had glimpsed him on the streets of Dublin. He and Hildred Vance had plotted the Imbolc Massacre together.

‘The Rephs are probably beneath the Colosseum,’ Verca said. Her face was smudged with dust. ‘The hypogeum, the underground level. It’s concealed by a modern floor.’

As she spoke, her voice shook a little. She must have seen Lesath behead all the bodies.

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