Page 12 of The Dawn Chorus
‘That is not a sound idea.’
‘It is. I’ll be stronger in a few days.’ I blotted my face on my sleeve. ‘Warden, humans aren’t supposed to just come off drugs. You’re meant to take a s-substitute. Or something.’
‘All I can offer is scimorphine.’
‘Scimorphine isn’t strong enough. Look again. Please.’ When he did nothing, anger nearly throttled me. ‘Why are you just standing there? Do you think I’d bepleadingwith you if I didn’t really fucking need this?’
‘Even if I wanted to do as you ask, I could not. I can guess which sedative they used, and it will not be available from a pharmacy. Only from SciSORS.’ He was perfectly still. ‘This will end soon. You were sedated for less than a month, and the drug is not known to cause long-term withdrawal.’
‘Less than a month?’ I said thickly. ‘What – what are you saying, Warden? That I’m weak to be this desperate after such ashortimprisonment?’
‘That is not what I meant.’
‘Why are you doing this to me?’ I barked, loathing him to his core, half as intensely as I loathed myself. ‘Do you really hate me that much, Warden? Because I gave myself up to Scion, to Nashira? Is this your sick way of telling me that I made my own bed? Do youenjoyhearing me beg?’
‘I will not dignify those questions with an answer.’
A rusty laugh escaped me. ‘No.’ My ribs fought to contain the beast that writhed behind them. ‘I imagine you think this is all veryundignifiedbehaviour on my part.’
‘You imagine wrong.’
‘Oh, go back to hell. After everything I’ve done for you—’
It occurred to me that someone in the nearest buildings might hear me shouting myself hoarse at him. I needed to stop. If he would just get me the drug, if he would just for oncerelent, I could get better. I could heal. He could see me whole and strong, not broken.
‘Paige,’ was all Warden said, ‘you must see to your wound. You are losing blood.’
Enraged, I made a clumsy grab for a pillow – my fingers throbbed with the strain of lifting it, my sprained wrist seared like hellfire – and, with every bit of strength I had left, I tried to throw it at him. He watched it thump into the foot of the bed as I folded at the waist. That pitiful swing of my arm felt as if it had peeled the bones of my spine apart.
I had been so strong before.
‘Fuck the blood,’ I hissed. ‘You didn’t mind when I used it to heal you in Magdalen. Or spilled it in the scrimmage so I could be Underqueen.’ All the anger that had simmered in me came boiling to the surface. I spoke between my teeth: ‘Get me that sedative, Warden, you miserablefuckingingrate, and I might consider those debts paid.’
His chin lifted a little, his eyes dark.
‘No,’ he said.
My face crumpled. Even in this state, I knew when he had dug his heels in. Arms trembling, hair limp with sweat, I collapsed back on the bed and curled myself around a pillow.
‘None of you came for me,’ I said weakly. ‘Why did none of you come?’
‘Paige—’
‘I would have done anything to get you back. Why didn’t any of you try to get me?’
‘Paige,’ Warden cut in, ‘I know you are distressed, but please, little dreamer, bind your wound.’
Please.That word reached between the gnashing jaws of the withdrawal and gripped what little of my sanity remained. He had said it right before I surrendered to Scion.Paige. Please.
The realisation cooled the burning corridors of my mind. Suddenly I understood why he had sounded afraid that night, and how he must feel to see me in this state. He had tried to stop me because he had known exactly what awaited me if I gave myself to the enemy.
He had once been at her mercy, too.
She will chain you in the darkness, and she will drain the life and hope from you. Your screams will be her music.
It could have been worse. Nashira could have had my bones shattered, my tongue ripped out – anything she liked. She could have mutilated me until I was unrecognisable. I had been spared only so that the torture didn’t kill me before she could. Warden must have imagined me chained somewhere, in agony.
Silence leaked like crude oil between us. Under his gaze, I pressed the gauze over the wound and tried to strap it in place. My fingers were stiff, ill-suited to such delicate work. The bandages spilled between them.