Page 8 of The Dawn Chorus

‘As we’ve long established, I don’t like you. I don’t care if you think I’m ill-mannered.’

‘Hm. Now I think I will keep my journal to myself.’

‘Like you would have shown me either way.’

‘You will have to live with the uncertainty.’

I tutted. When he had finished whatever he was writing – I imagined a treatise on human ingratitude – he made a point of locking the leather-bound book and tucking the key into his doublet.

‘Remember I’m a thief.’ I dropped my head on to the cushion. ‘I’ll pickpocket that key.’

‘By all means, try.’ Warden glanced at the mantel clock. ‘Michael will have returned by midnight. You should rest until then. If our luck holds, he will have what you need.’

‘And if he can’t find the medicine?’

‘Then I bid you farewell, Paige, and thank you for our agreeable acquaintance.’

‘Oh, hilarious. You could get your own show at the penny gaff with red-hot quips like that.’

I could have sworn the corner of his mouth lifted.

Staying lucid was like treading water. Eventually, I slid back into a doze.

A faceless woman opened a jar, and out poured seven golden streams. The floor rotted beneath her feet before the woman disappeared. A disembodied mask drifted up to me and told me it looked forward to our meeting. A shadow-bear lumbered over the threshold – its claws were like ten swords, each tipped with blood – and ruffled my hair with its breath. When it roared, black moths and honeybees erupted from its mouth.

All the while, Warden wrote. At some point, he switched off the gramophone.

Beware, the mask said.The lord of hindsight is purblind. Look to the all-gifted for the key. Knowledge has a terrible price. Come and see, pale rider, come and see.

‘Shh.’ I turned on to my back. ‘No more riddles, now. I’m busy.’

Busy doing what, pray tell?

‘Dying.’

Warden glanced towards me. The mask dissolved into thin air, leaving only him.

I wanted to hear his music again. In all my life, I had never heard such wrath and sorrow from an instrument as I had on that evening. Just the memory of it was chilling.

It seemed like an eternity before I got free of my drowse. My insides felt twisted, my stomach tight. Warden stood by the bay window.

‘Warden.’ My skin was clammy. ‘Michael isn’t back, is he?’

‘No.’

I tried to look for him in the æther. Too weak. ‘Someone has to go after him.’ With some effort, I managed to sit up. ‘He might be holed up with the harlies. I’ll find him.’

‘The fact that you think you are in any fit state to go anywhere is a testament to the fact that you should not.’

‘Well, you don’t exactly have humans lining up to be your allies, so I’m your only choice.’

‘If he is not back by one of the clock, I will go myself.’

‘It could be a trap,’ I said. ‘The Sargas might expect you to come looking for him.’

‘Perhaps.’ He glanced at me. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Awful.’