Page 126 of The Bone Season

‘Nashira holds a feast at her residence at the beginning of each season. I received an invitation for you,’ he said. ‘It explains why she wanted you to be tested so quickly. She wishes you to join the summer feast.’

‘Rephs don’t eat.’ I glanced at him. ‘What does she do at these feasts?’

‘She asks questions.’

‘You’re sure she isn’t going to surprise me with a knife to the throat?’

‘You will be killed when I deem you ready,’ he said, ‘but she has requested that I prepare you in time to be executed at the Bicentenary.’

Just as Liss had suspected.

‘Put me out of my misery.’ I watched the flames. ‘How is she going to do it?’

Warden was silent for so long, I thought he wouldn’t answer. Finally, he turned to me, one hand on the mantelpiece. The fire crackled.

‘What do you know of angels?’

‘A class of breacher,’ I said. ‘A guardian angel is formed by sacrifice. The spirit lingers to protect the person they died to save. An archangel is similar, but stays to protect a bloodline. They’re both rare.’

No point in feigning ignorance now.

‘Nashira can make a third sort of angel,’ Warden said. ‘If she kills a clairvoyant, she can not only trap their spirit, but misappropriate their gift. We call these fallen angels. They are bound to remain with their murderer.’

The death I feared – trapped with an immortal binder, used for all eternity.

‘She’s your consort,’ I said quietly. ‘No matter what you do to help me, I can never trust you. Not when you choose to be with her.’

‘Do not judge too quickly, little dreamer.’

I shot him a quizzical look. ‘Who are you callinglittle, Reph?’

Warden made a point of looking down at me from his tremendous height. I defensively stood up as straight as I could, but still got no higher than his shoulder.

‘Wait.’ I raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you trying to tease me?’

‘Am I succeeding?’

It surprised me enough that I smiled against my will, hiding it behind my hair.

He could still be trying to break my guard. I had heard the way they laughed – this had to be the same mimicry, to convince me he was human. I couldn’t let him win my trust like that, with false promises.

But hehadburned the pamphlet.

‘I’d like to visit the Rookery,’ I said. ‘Do I get my red tunic yet?’

‘Not yet. You have one more test to pass.’ Before I could ask, he turned away. ‘You should finish your supper and coffee. After that, you may go.’

Now it was summer, the performers were shaking and airing their bedding, drying their clothes on lines they had strung between the shacks. The city was still cold and hazy with fog, but they were trying, as if they could make the seasons matter by sheer force of will.

The Rephs were on to me. They had read my body like a map, down to the nicks I had from fighting off rival gangs and thieves.

But only Warden knew for sure. Without the damning pamphlet, I still had an inch of room to manoeuvre.

Liss was in her shack, wrapped in the blanket I had got for her, cooking one of her foragers’ stews. When I came in, she released her breath.

‘What happened to your wrist?’

‘I fell on it,’ I said. ‘It’s broken.’

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