Page 14 of The Dawn Chorus

I stirred from a drowse, rosy sunlight glowing in my hair. Dust twinkled above me, and I let myself believe, for a heartbeat, that I was waking up in my own room, in London.

A gentle snore broke the illusion. Julian was asleep beside me, head on a limp cushion. The vomiting and hallucinations had worn him out.

I rubbed the grain from my eyes. My hair was in desperate need of a wash. So was my tunic. In Magdalen, there was a bath with stove-heated water, which I used as often as I dared – if I looked too clean, the other Rephaim would suspect Warden of lenience and detain him. All the harlies had was rain, or murky water from a stream near the House. That was all they had to drink, to clean their clothes and skin and homes. Liss kept a barrel outside her shack and boiled every cup she used. Perhaps that was how she had avoided getting ill.

The rats, at least, had taken their leave. Or the harlies had snapped and killed them all. I had elected not to ask.

Liss sat barefoot by the stove, studying a few of her cards. Shadows feathered over her face. One of the other harlies had filched her curling irons, so her black hair fell straight to the small of her back. Since her strength had returned, she had been practising night and day on the silks.

A blanket was draped over me. I wrapped myself in it as I sat up, covering the yellow tunic that marked me as a coward. Nashira had decreed that I should wear it after my escape attempt.

‘Hey,’ I said.

Liss stiffened and hid the cards. Seeing me, she relaxed again and offered a weary smile.

‘Evening, sleepyhead.’

‘Sorry.’ My broken wrist throbbed. ‘Must have been more exhausted than I thought.’

‘Not to worry. It’s only sunset,’ she said. ‘The night-bell won’t ring for a while yet.’

She returned the cards to the box and drew her shawl a little closer. I joined her by the stove, and we warmed our hands for a while. Her feet and ankles were mottled with bruises.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked her. ‘You’re training harder than usual.’

‘Beltrame expects my best performance for the emissaries.’ Liss kept her gaze on the stove. ‘Have you heard if Gomeisa will be at the Bicentenary?’

‘I’ve no idea. Why?’

‘Just wondering.’ She slung an arm around her knees. ‘Watch out for him, Paige. We could have an ugly fight on our hands if he gets involved.’

‘We’re not sticking around to fight anyone.’ My wrist gave another twinge. ‘I may not be sticking around at all.’

Her dark gaze snapped to mine. ‘Don’t think that way.’

‘My chances of hurting Nashira are abysmal. Warden won’t turn me into the perfect dreamwalker by September. I only found out I had this ability a few months ago.’

‘You’re not trying to kill her. Remember that,’ Liss said. ‘You’re trying to show her up. Don’t get arrogant. Just do something to show them she’s not all-powerful.’

I nodded, absently curling my fingers in and out of a fist.

‘The courtiers are dead. Tilda was the last,’ Liss said. ‘Cyril told me she went around midnight.’

I closed my eyes.

Liss had helped me choose who would receive the pills. Most of them had gone to those who had seen Warden heal her. Those who had the power to betray his treason to Nashira.

In the end, it was the harlies who were hooked on purple aster that had paid for the shortfall. The fever had made them too weak to run the usual errands for Duckett, who had refused to deal the intoxicating flowers to them. The withdrawal and the fever together had already weakened them beyond saving by the time we had the medicine.

‘We’ll bury them after Nashira has seen the bodies,’ Liss said softly. ‘She needs to know that a few of us died, or she’ll suspect that we had a cure. And that it was stolen.’

‘Duckett never even contracted it.’ I gazed into the flames. ‘He knew Tilda and the others would be too weak to fight the fever without regal.’

‘He maintains his power by sticking to his rules.’

‘Most of the errands he makes up are pointless.’

‘In a place without coin, the canny make their own currency.’ She gave me a sidelong glance. ‘I hate his guts as much as you, but stay your hand, Paige. Lay a finger on him and he’ll squeal to Nashira, and you don’t want to draw her eye.’