Page 17 of The Dawn Chorus

‘It has adelicateflavour.’ Julian clicked his tongue. ‘Neither of you has taste.’

‘Neither does your wretched ice cream,’ Liss muttered.

I snorted. Julian pulled a face. ‘Well, we’re eating it,’ he said, drawing her to his other side. ‘We’ll savour the culinary delights of London, and then we’ll save it from the Rephaim.’

As I rested my head on his shoulder, I thought of the syndicate, large enough to become a formidable army. I thought of Haymarket Hector, who would never believe my story, who had rotted the underworld with his cruelty and sloth. I thought of my own mime-lord, who had irrevocably divided voyants with nothing but his pen and his ambition.

‘We can try,’ I said.

Liss looked at me with a slight frown, her smile fading as quickly as it had come.

‘I’d better get back to Magdalen.’ Feeling tired again, I stood. ‘Stay out of the way of the Rephs, and keep looking for anything that might be useful. I’ll come back in a few days.’

‘Be careful, Paige,’ Julian said.

‘Always.’

I did up my gilet and brushed through the curtain, leaving them curled up by the fire like two birds in a nest.

Whispers and glances chased me as I made my way out of the Rookery. Most of the harlies now knew I was the Pale Dreamer. Since the Rephaim knew the truth, I had allowed Liss to let it slip to her friends. She had thought it would reassure them to know that a high-ranking syndicate member was leading the rebellion.

A few people had dealt me resentful looks. Still, most showed a respect that bordered on fear. Some of them tapped three fingers to their foreheads as I passed. Even those who had been captured a decade ago remembered the White Binder. And knew of his mollisher.

In London, my alias was a vital weapon, my reputation a shield and a bludgeon against rival gangs. Here, it felt like a cheap grab for power – but if my presence encouraged even one person to place their trust in the rebellion, and to imagine that they might have some protection from the syndicate if it succeeded, it was worth a few weeks of disquiet.

Dusk was just about to fall. As soon as I was out of the Rookery, the cold rushed into me. It was hitting me harder every day. So was my fatigue, as evidenced by the unexpected nap. The hunger, too, was unrelenting. Warden tried his best to get me at least one meal a day, but supplies across the colony were low.

Just a few more weeks, and I could leave. I could fill my aching stomach every day. Warmed by the thought, I lifted my hood and cut through the cobbled square by the Old Library, past the ever-locked Room. There was no movement in there today. All was quiet.

Well, not all.

‘Hello.’

I turned at the sound of an unwelcome voice. David, the oracle, was slouching against the wrought-iron gates of the church, a cigarette in one hand, dark crescents bitten under his eyes. Unlike me – conspicuously shivering – he looked just toasty in his coat.

Last I had seen him, it was when I had possessed him in London. To stop him killing Nadine.

‘What are you doing here?’ I said, curt.

‘Smoking.’

He held up his cigarette, which gave off the scent of mint. ‘How the hell do you even get those?’ I asked.

‘Benefits of being a red-jacket. Shame you lost yours.’ He took a drag. ‘Yellow doesn’t suit you.’

‘Blame whoever designed the wardrobe here.’ I pushed my hands into my pockets. ‘You know there are rats all over the Rookery. Shouldn’t you be holed up in a residence, feasting with the other bone-grubbers?’

‘Needed some fresh air. Not that it’s ever very fresh around here.’ He blew smoke. ‘So, tell me. How long have you been able to possess people?’

‘Why do you care?’

‘Just wondering. It was … something, 40. Not being able to control my own arms. I had a headache for days.’

‘I’m sorry to hear it. Will you be asking forpaymentin exchange for your forgiveness?’

The corners of his mouth pinched. ‘You’re still angry about that.’ When I said nothing, he sighed. ‘Paige, if I could just—’

‘I’m not angry with you, David. I can honestly say that I never think about you.’