Page 39 of The Bone Season

‘They all hate us. Can you come outside?’

‘I can try.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Have you heard how the Rephs sustain themselves?’

‘I have. Explains a fair amount, doesn’t it?’

‘Aludra did it to Felix yesterday. All he did was ask for water,’ Julian said grimly. ‘He couldn’t stop shaking when he came round.’

‘They’re not supposed to feed on jackets. One of the performers told me.’

‘Aludra clearly doesn’t care.’ He released the gate. ‘Arcturus hasn’t fed on you, then.’

‘No. I’ve barely seen him.’

Something told me not to mention what had happened in the small hours. All good syndies knew that secrets were a currency, and now and then it paid to let them gather interest for a while.

‘I overheard the amaurotics talking about him,’ Julian said. ‘You’re the first voyant he’s ever trained.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Sure you’re an acultomancer, Paige?’

I gave him a steady look.

‘Julian, I’ll level with you,’ I said. ‘I’m not an acultomancer – you knew that – but it’s safer for me not to say what I am. If you won’t ask about my gift, I won’t ask about yours.’

Julian studied me. This close, I could see that he was full-sighted. The half-sighted could suppress their spirit sight, but Julian always saw the æther, layered over the physical world. Whenever I was in front of him, so was the question mark of my aura.

‘Deal,’ he said. ‘Let me ask if I can sign out.’

‘Be careful,’ I said. ‘I’ll meet you in the Rookery.’

He disappeared into the residence. It occurred to me that he might never come out.

I waited for him by a cookfire. Craving a hot coffee, I held my hands over the flames.

The performers gave me curious looks. Liss must have told them I was the new tenant at Magdalen. I hoped she had kept my gift to herself.

As I sat there, warming my fingers, I couldn’t help but notice the unusual lack of spirits. London was deeply haunted, its streets thronged with the restless dead. Oxford might be smaller, but it was an old city – I should have sensed more than a few wisps and ghosts.

Julian was taking his time. I was about to give up when the main door to Trinity opened, and he stumbled on to the Broad. I went to meet him.

‘What happened?’

‘Aludra,’ he said. ‘She said I could get food, but I wouldn’t be able to smell it. Or taste it.’

When he moved his hand away from his face, I drew a sharp breath. His nose was red and swollen, blood seeping to his chin.

‘You need ice.’ I had a closer look. ‘The performers might have some.’

‘I’m all right. I don’t think it’s broken.’

‘Let’s get you some food, at least.’

As we made our way through the Rookery, I kept an eye out for anything I could use to arm myself. Even something crude would do – a sharp hairpin, a shard of metal. Nothing jumped out at me.

If the Emim breached the city, the performers had no way to defend themselves. The red-jackets were their only protection. I glanced at the old siren, ominous above the shacks.

Julian sat on a low stool. I traded the rat bones for skilly and toke, then found a stall offering various herbs. In exchange for my needles, the performer brewed me an infusion of willow bark, which apparently helped with pain. I took the steaming cup to Julian.

‘Here.’

‘Thanks,’ he said, taking a sip. ‘It’s so cold here. I don’t get it.’

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