Page 103 of The Bone Season

‘There are many rumours in this city,’ Warden said. ‘Some older than others.’

‘I’d like you to confirm this one. You’re her consort,’ I said. ‘If anyone knows, it’s you.’

Warden settled back in his chair.

‘I might be the only living dreamwalker,’ I went on. ‘I think she wants me for her … collection. If so, I don’t know why you’d bother training me to be a soldier. That’s why you really stopped, isn’t it?’

‘You are astute.’ Warden held my gaze. ‘I will confirm your rumour, Paige. Nashira does intend to execute you for your gift.’

Liss had warned me only this morning. Hearing it from him still chilled me.

‘Nonetheless,’ Warden said, ‘I am obliged to continue your training. My consort wishes to understand your abilities, as well as their potential repercussions. Although you are already powerful, you have only just begun to unlock your gift. Before you die, Nashira requires it to be as strong and mastered as possible.’

It took me a moment to understand: ‘She lets the fruit ripen before she plucks it.’

‘Yes.’

‘And your job is to ripen me.’ I huffed. ‘You really are made for each other.’

He was as expressionless as ever, but one hand tightened on the arm of his chair, stretching his glove across his knuckles. For the first time, I had struck a nerve. I tucked the observation away.

‘That’s the reason she wouldn’t approve the life support,’ I murmured. ‘She doesn’t care if I get hurt, as long as I make progress.’

Warden rose. I tensed, but all he did was pull a long cord by the fire.

‘I intend to continue your training in three days,’ he said, returning to his seat. ‘It will be difficult. Do you have any objections?’

‘What, to being readied like a lamb for slaughter?’

‘You said you wanted to train.’

‘Tosurvive, not to die.’

‘Nashira still expects you to take your second test. If you wish to survive that, you will train with me. You will also attend weekly physical drills on Port Meadow,’ he said. ‘Magdalen does not have a dedicated gymnasium, but I will set a room aside for your use.’

‘Assuming I survive any of this without life support,’ I said, ‘let’s say I pass the second test. Will I have to fight the Buzzers?’

‘That is not the only duty of a red-jacket. You will be exempted from patrol. Instead, you will concentrate on your dreamwalking.’

‘Of course. I’d hate to be anything less than a perfect sacrifice.’

I should be more afraid than this. Nashira meant to bind me for eternity.

But holding some degree of fear was my default state in Scion. Over time, I had learned to live with it. Jaxon had made sure his mollisher had nerves of steel. I used them now to look daggers at Warden.

A knock broke the silence. A clean-shaven man in a grey tunic entered, looking as if an old master had brushed him into being. His hair was a dark gold, his features chiselled, lips and cheeks as pink as petals. He could have been a living muse, or a model.

He carried a silver platter, which he set with care on the table. Everything about him was fastidious, down to the polished buttons on his tunic. As soon as I got a closer look at his face, I recognised him.

The unreadable Pleione had brought for Warden. He gave me a curious glance.

‘Good day, Michael,’ Warden said. ‘Would you like a drink, Paige?’

I was tempted to ask for something illegal – real wine, perhaps – but I had to keep my wits about me.

‘No, thank you.’ I addressed the unreadable, who gave me a nod and a smile before leaving. ‘So he’s your personal vending machine, is he?’

‘Michael manages this residence. He has lived here for the last six years,’ Warden said, ‘since I received him as a gift from Nashira.’

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