Page 11 of The Bone Season

‘Yes.’ I blotted my face again. ‘You’d better have a plan.’

‘Don’t worry about that. Just sit tight, before you run headfirst into a dragnet.’

‘I can’t just wait to be detained.’

‘Darling, I have fired you into firmer stuff than this. The last thing they’ll expect is for you to have fled to your registered address. Whydidyou do that, by the way?’

‘I couldn’t think of anywhere else. I’m not on your turf, Jax.’

‘Don’t remind me. Ognena Mariamighthave aided you,’ Jaxon mused, ‘but then, I would hate to be in her debt, and I doubt she would want to involve her own voyants. She is rather precious about their wellbeing.’ His tone grew serious. ‘Now you’re there, stay out of sight, and dispose of that phone. If they come, you know what to do.’

There was a warning in those words. None of us could be captured.

‘Hold your nerve for the next hour. Scion will take at least that long to match your fingerprints,’ Jaxon said. ‘When you see an opportunity, make for the river. Eliza will find you in the morning.’

‘I’ll be a fugitive. For good.’

‘That only makes you more interesting. See you soon, Pale Dreamer.’

I hung up.

Jaxon Hall didn’t know how to worry. He had danced on the edge of a knife all his life, and I doubted his blood could run any colder.

I removed the battery from the phone. Jaxon could be a colossal bastard, but three years ago, I had chosen to trust him. He could help me disappear.

There was a pocket pistol in one of the drawers, concealed under a stack of clothes. I loaded it, checked the knife in my boot.

Next, I needed my first edition ofOn the Merits of Unnaturalness, the most notorious pamphlet in the citadel. Written by Jaxon, it detailed every known type of clairvoyance and sorted them into seven orders.

My copy was covered in annotations: new ideas, explanatory notes, contact details for promising cases. Last time I stayed here, I had dropped it between my bed and the wall. It was still there, covered in dust. I fished it out, then retrieved my emergency backpack from the wardrobe.

I fastenedOn the Merits of Unnaturalnessinto a pocket. If they found it here, they would never believe my father hadn’t known what I was. That was his only chance now, to deny it. Even if I warned him, he had nowhere to go. Better he pleaded ignorance.

Finally, I sat on my bed, the pistol in my hand. Somewhere in the distance, in the darkness, there was thunder.

Whatever my spirit had done, it had drained me to the quick. Before I could stop it, I had passed out, still with the taste of blood in my throat.

When I woke, I knew something was wrong. The æther warned of unfamiliar dreamscapes in the building. I could hear an echoing clamour in the stairwell, closer by the moment.

That wasn’t old Alice Heron next door, who used a frame and always took the lift. Those were the boots and radios of a detainment squad.

They had come for me.

They had finally come.

I was on my feet at once, throwing a jacket over my shirt, pulling on boots and gloves, pulse racing. Nick had prepared me for this day, but the escape would test my stamina to the limit – and no matter what happened, I could not lead Scion to the others.

They were on this floor now, slowing to mask their approach. I slung on my backpack, tucked the pistol into my waistband, and opened the door to the balcony.

I could do this.

Rain battered my clothes. I stood on the balustrade, finding my balance, then jumped for an eave and climbed on to the roof. By the time the Vigiles reached the apartment, I had started to run.

In London, Scion usually avoided killing amaurotics. My father would be tranquillised, to shut him up while they detained me.

I hoped that was all they would do to him.

The complex was quiet. I glanced over the parapet. No sign of the security guards. It didn’t take me long to spot the paddy wagon in the car park, the van with tinted windows and gleaming white headlights. If anyone had taken the time to look, they would have seen the anchor on its back doors.

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