Page 151 of The Bone Season

‘I heard you’re a dreamwalker.’ Carl narrowed his eyes. ‘Is that true?’

‘It certainly is.’ I offered him a platter. ‘Chicken?’

Carl glared at me.

‘We have a rarity in 40,’ Nashira said. ‘One that 16 and 17 almost damaged.’

The brothers tensed. Even their smallest movements looked stiff, as if their clothes were hurting. If not for Liss, I might have pitied them.

‘You are both dedicated soldiers. Perhaps it is understandable that you should feel some resentment, seeing a newcomer so cosseted,’ Nashira said graciously. ‘40 receives special treatment because we cannot afford to injure her. I know that 62 was the ringleader – but do not repeat her mistake, or I will be forced to revoke your red tunics.’

‘Yes, Suzerain,’ they both mumbled. 16 gritted his teeth in obvious agony.

‘That applies to all of you,’ Nashira said.

They hastened to agree.

Nashira caught my gaze. I gave her a nod of feigned gratitude. She was both the greatest threat to my life and the reason I was theoretically untouchable.

‘Since Magdalen has so few humans, 40 will be formally considered part of Queens Company,’ Nashira said. ‘But she is unlikely to fight. You should consider her as separate from the rest of you.’

A dead woman walking, I thought, against my will.

For several minutes, only the clink of cutlery disturbed the silence. I ate my steamed vegetables.

After a time, the red-jackets made conversation. They swapped patrol stories. They asked each other about their residences, marvelling at the beauty of the old buildings. Sometimes they took a jab at the performers, deriding their cowardice or lack of personal hygiene.

The brothers toyed with their food, occasionally shooting me acrid looks. 30 was pink-faced from the wine, while Carl chewed with excessive force, alternating mouthfuls with sips from his second glass. Only when all the plates were clean did the amaurotics return to clear the table, leaving us with dessert.

Nashira waited for the red-jackets to serve themselves before she spoke again.

‘Now you are fed and watered, my friends, let us have a little entertainment.’

Carl wiped the treacle from his mouth with linen. A troupe of performers filed into the room. Among them was a whisperer, who raised his violin to his shoulder and played a lively tune. The others executed graceful acrobatics.

‘To business, then,’ Nashira said. The diners sat up a bit straighter. ‘If any of you have ever conversed with the Overseer, you may know that he is my procurer for the Bone Seasons. For decades, I have been attempting to extract valuable clairvoyants from the crime syndicate of the Scion Citadel of London. No doubt many of you are aware of it; some of you may even have been part of it.’

30 and 18 both shifted in their seats. I didn’t recognise either of them, but most of my work had been limited to I Cohort. Carl was open-mouthed.

Nobody looked at the performers. They had their art honed to perfection, and not one person cared.

‘As the Suzerain, I seek quality and variety, as well as quantity,’ Nashira continued. ‘We respect and value all of your skills, but there are many talents we must harvest to enrich our city. We must all learn from each other. It would not do to simply take in seers and palmists.’

I thought of Ivy in Corpus. In May, I had glimpsed her from a distance, in the fog, trailing behind Thuban. I hadn’t seen her since.

‘40 is the kind of clairvoyant we now seek. She is our very first dreamwalker,’ Nashira said. ‘We also require sibyls and berserkers, binders and summoners, oracles. All of these would bring fresh insight to our ranks.’

‘Personally, I think we could all learn a lot from 40,’ David said, raising his glass. ‘I’m willing.’

I raised an eyebrow.

In nearly three months, our paths had rarely crossed. If this was his way of trying to win my trust again, he needed to work harder.

‘An excellent attitude, 12. We do intend to learn a great deal from 40,’ Nashira said. ‘That is why I will be sending her on an external assignment.’

The veterans exchanged glances. Carl turned as red as the strawberry tarts.

‘I will also be sending 12. And you, 1,’ Nashira continued. Now Carl looked elated. David smiled into his glass. ‘Of the forty clairvoyants who arrived in March, the three of you have made the swiftest progress. You will go with some of your seniors from Bone Season XIX, who will monitor your performance under pressure. 30, I presume I can count on you to lead them, as you have in previous years.’

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