Page 12 of The Bone Season

My boots had decent grip, but these conditions could be lethal. Nevertheless, I kept moving.

I didn’t know the rooftops of the Barbican. They were a concrete labyrinth. Fighting to see through the downpour, I edged around dormer windows and planters, slid across the arched glass ceilings of the corridors.

So far, I had no pursuers. I swung my boot up to a wet ledge and scaled a ladder, the rain plastering my hair to my face. At the first opportunity, I hurdled on to a balcony, where I found a door unlocked. Breathing hard, I tore through the deserted apartment, seizing the opportunity to get rid of my phone, then ran down several flights of stairs, towards the front door of the building. I needed to get to the street, to vanish into a dark alley …

Red lights stopped me in my tracks. I doubled back and slammed the door. Turning wildly, I pulled a fire axe from its case, smashed a window, and scrambled into a small courtyard, cutting my forearms on the glass. Then I was back in the rain, shinning up a drainpipe.

My heart stopped when I saw them. The rooftops were infested with masked figures in red jackets. Several torch beams moved towards me, glaring into my eyes.

These weren’t Vigiles. I had never seen a uniform like this in London.

‘Stay where you are.’

The nearest stepped towards me, a gun in one gloved hand. I backed away, feeling the aura of a powerful medium. The torchlight revealed a gaunt face, sharp chips of eyes, a thin mouth.

‘Don’t run, Paige. It’s too late,’ he called. ‘Why don’t you come out of the rain?’

I did a quick sweep of my surroundings. A helicopter came to hover overhead.

The next building was an office block. The gap was wide – at least twenty feet, farther than I had ever dared to jump. Unless I wanted to attack the medium and abandon my body, I would have to try.

I had nothing to lose.

‘I’ll pass,’ I called back, and took off again.

Muffled shouts broke out in my wake. I dropped to a lower stretch of roof, escaping the searchlight that beamed from the chopper, and drew my pistol.

The medium sprinted after me. I could hear his boots pounding on the roof, seconds behind mine. He was trained for these pursuits. I was nimble and slim, narrow enough to slip between rails and under fences, but so was my pursuer. When I squeezed off two shots from the pistol, he eluded them without stopping.

I aimed blindly over my shoulder again. My lungs were already at bursting point. A flare in my ankle alerted me to an injury.

The medium was returning fire. I leapt over flexipipes and ventilation ducts, trying to turn my sixth sense on him, but I couldn’t keep my focus on his dreamscape. There was nothing I could do to deter him.

Cold rain thrashed at my eyes. As I gathered speed, adrenalin snuffed the fire in my ankle.

A fifteen-storey drop yawned in front of me. I told myself that if I could only clear this gap, I could disappear into the shadows for good. I could leave Paige behind and embrace the Pale Dreamer.

Knees towards your chest, Nick had taught me.Eyes on your landing spot.

The edge rushed closer. Too late to stop or turn back now. My boot hit the very end of the roof, and I launched myself over the precipice.

For a strange moment, I was in flight, nothing to hold me up or down.

I collided with solid brick. As I fell, I grabbed a ledge, clinging on by my fingertips. Kicking for purchase, boots scraping the wall, I started to haul my body upward. A coin fell out of my jacket, into the darkness below.

My victory was short-lived. As I struggled on to the other roof, a bolt of agonising pain tore up my spine. I slipped down the wall, one hand still clinging on, and craned my neck to look over my shoulder. A dart was buried in my back.

Flux.

They had flux.

The drug surged into me. Behind me, I heard shouting above the chopper, the rain. Soaked and numb, I formed two last thoughts. First, that Jaxon was going to kill me – and second, that he wouldn’t have the chance. I was already dead.

My fingers lost their strength.

I let go.

DELIRIANT

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