Page 19 of The Bone Season

‘Let’s find out,’ I whispered back.

THE FORGE OF THE ANCHOR

‘Welcome to Sheol I, formerly known as the University of Oxford.’

The speaker was about six and a half feet tall. Her argent face was perfectly symmetrical – a long, straight nose, high cheekbones, hooded eyes. The candlelight ran through her thick hair, which gleamed like spun gold, falling unadorned to her waist.

‘Nashira Sargas is the name I bear here.’ Her voice was cool and low, resonant enough to fill the room. ‘I am blood-sovereign of the Rephaim and Suzerain of the Republic of Scion.’

‘Is this a joke?’ someone muttered.

I wanted to ask the same question. So far, nothing here appeared real.

In keeping with the monarch look, two of the very tall figures wore livery collars, including Nashira Sargas. Hers was gold, studded with amber.

‘First of all, I must apologise for your harrowing journey, especially if it began in the Tower of London,’ she said. ‘After being sedated, you were placed on a train and taken to our Detainment Facility. Your clothing and belongings have been confiscated.’

As I listened, I watched her, probing the æther. Her aura was especially strange, simmering like water on the boil.

‘No doubt you are surprised to hear that this city is still populated,’ she continued. ‘According to Scion, it was quarantined due to contamination. This was a lie. It was so that we, the Rephaim, could make it our home on Earth.’

My face must have been a picture. She could only have been speaking for a minute, but I already felt unmoored from reality.

‘Most of you here are clairvoyant, capable of interacting with the æther,’ Nashira said. ‘You commune with spirits, and in return, they may offer you their guidance and protection. But when these drifting spirits grow too great in number – too cowardly or stubborn to leave, to meet their unmaking in the last light – it places a significant burden on the æther. Some time ago, this burden finally became too heavy, shattering the ethereal threshold.’

Julian looked torn between laughter and trepidation. Seb swayed on the spot.

‘When the ethereal threshold broke, the Netherworld was overrun by hostile creatures named Emim,’ Nashira said. ‘They feed on flesh and spirit, devouring both without remorse, and they do not hear reason. Their arrival caused the Netherworld to fall into decay, forcing us to abandon it.’

The whisperer let out the quietest of nervous chuckles. ‘How am I still this high?’

‘Shh.’

‘In 1859, we crossed the veil to Earth and negotiated with the human government of England,’ Nashira went on. ‘Together, we agreed on a new way of living, to ensure that Earth would not also fall to the Emim. We established the Republic of Scion.’

Silence filled the room.

Nashira Sargas had our attention.

‘When we arrived here, we found you vulnerable. Only a small number of humans are clairvoyant; still fewer have marginally useful abilities,’ she said. ‘We might have simply let the Emim overrun your world, to avenge the loss of ours. We might have killed you all. Instead, we showed mercy. Here in this city, a bargain was struck. You stand in the very forge of the anchor.’

I looked at Julian, who blinked, hard.

‘Earth requires custodians with more wisdom than humankind. Over eons, you have caused untold suffering,’ Nashira said. ‘You have fought and killed one another with abandon – not only saddling your realm with restless spirits, but ruining ours. You cannot be allowed to continue. Where you failed to protect this world, we will not.’

She levelled her gaze on my line of prisoners. I lowered mine, just in case.

‘Some of you were detained by humans in our employ. They are called red-jackets.’ She indicated a line of men and women, clad in scarlet tunics and black gilets. ‘Since our arrival, we have taken many clairvoyants under our wing. We train you to destroy the Emim. This city acts as a beacon to the creatures, drawing them away from the amaurotic population.’

No safer place.The motto rang with new meaning.No safer place.

‘When the Emim breach these walls, red-jackets are summoned to repel them. Such breaches are announced by a siren. There is a high risk of mutilation.’

There is also, I thought,a high risk that this is all in my head.

‘We offer you this fate as an alternative to what Scion would offer: death by hanging or asphyxiation, or a short life as a Vigile.’

In the row behind me, a girl whimpered. She was hushed at once.

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