Page 6 of The Dawn Chorus

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Page 6 of The Dawn Chorus

‘Arguably.’

‘If you want them to choose the hard option, and if you want them to resist the temptation to sell you out, then they need immediate, tangible incentives, not some vague hope of freedom. The medicine I distributed will help keep the harlies on side. I’m going to assume that last time you rebelled against your fiancée, you tried to pay your army with promises. I’ve spent long enough in the syndicate to know that never works.’

‘Bribery insinuates vulnerability,’ he stated. ‘Will this not leave you open to blackmail?’

‘I didn’t tell themwhyI gave them the medicine. They don’t know for sure that I’m bribing them, even if they suspect. What they know is that I’m helping them. Now.’

Only the gramophone broke the silence for a while. Eventually, Warden said, ‘I trusted that you would apply your lessons from the syndicate. Do as you must.’

Even as I nodded, a high-pitched whistle filled my ears. The wooden floor roiled under my feet.

‘How long do we have left?’ I asked him, even as darkness blotched my vision. ‘Before I face her.’

‘A month.’

My skin tingled. In one sense, it would be the longest month of my life – the final stretch of my captivity – but it wasn’t enough time to turn a troupe of starving prisoners into rebels. And now, when I should be out there helping them remember their worth, I had no strength of my own.

A jug stood at the end of the desk. As I made for it, my legs wobbled and my head doubled in weight. I glimpsed a forked rash across my neckline – like a bolt of lightning – before the rug came rushing towards me.

When I woke, I was on the daybed, covered to the waist by a heavy mantle, and Warden was in a chair beside me. The muscles of my neck were firm as bone, my stomach tight.

‘Mm.’ I touched my throbbing head. ‘Did I pass out?’

‘Not for long.’ Warden dimmed the oil lamp. ‘No need to thank me for catching you.’

‘You don’t get a medal for being decent.’

‘I should think not.’

I turned into a blade around him, always quick to cut. After months of mutual dislike, it was hard to shake that instinct.

Warden had banked the fire, leaving us in near-darkness. Seeing me shiver, he tucked the mantle around my shoulders. He did it in a detached manner – I was cold, he was solving the problem – but he was gentle. Since healing Liss, he had never removed his gloves again.

‘I presume you can’t catch this,’ I said.

‘Correct.’

‘Still afraid to touch me, though.’

I expected him to ignore the taunt. Instead, he looked me straight in the eye.

‘Do you desire for me to touch you, Paige?’

An admission would sound like something it really wasn’t. It would just gratify me to know that he had the mettle to defy that Rephaite law. That he could stand the touch of a mortal. It would prove to me, once and for all, that he was prepared to fight for us.

Before I could explain, Warden slid a cushion under my head, and the moment to retort had passed.

‘Have you experienced any more hallucinations?’ he asked. ‘Any headaches?’

‘Both. I’m fine.’

‘Those statements are contradictory.’

‘Everything aboutyouis contradictory.’ I shifted on to my side. ‘Where were you while I was in the Rookery?’

His firefly eyes caught mine again. I wished I knew how to read his expressions.

‘I was arranging another infiltration into the House,’ he said. I must have looked worried, because he added, ‘Fear not. Nashira and Gomeisa do not suspect you of destroying their blood-heir.’




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