Page 170 of The Bone Season

It could have been a century before I woke again. Opening my eyes, I found myself in a familiar bedchamber, feeling as heavy as a duvet. My arm and abdomen were numb, but my lips had come apart, allowing me to breathe in deep. They quivered as I recalled what had happened.

Nick had let me go. I had been in his arms. My chest heaved as I went through it all in my head, remembering the bloody writing on the wall.

Jaxon knew where I was now. They all did.

The gramophone was playing in the other room, confirming my return to the Founders Tower. Lying as still as I could, I ran my tongue over my teeth. All present and correct. My splinted wrist was hurting, and my other hand was attached to a drip. Mindful of the cannula, I used it to shift the bedclothes off.

I was dressed in the silk nightshirt. Sliding it up, I saw the surgical dressing on my left side. My right arm was bandaged and smelled of fibrin gel, used to seal wounds and prevent bleeding.

Other than being stabbed and slashed, I also had deep bruises on my shins and hip, and one side of my face was puffy. Jaxon really had done a number on me. I eased myself on to my right side, huffing.

Something else had changed. I couldn’t put my finger on what. My body had clearly taken a beating, but my dreamscape felt different, awry.

Warden was in an armchair, gazing at the fire. Seeing I was awake, he stood.

‘Paige.’

The sight of him set off a heavy pounding in my chest. He moved his chair to my bedside, along with a jug of water and a glass.

‘The oracle.’ My throat hurt. ‘Did you kill the oracle?’

‘No.’

‘What about the others?’

‘The Seven Seals escaped, as did Antoinette Carter,’ Warden said. ‘The assignment was a failure. Nashira was as wroth as I have ever seen her.’

I released my breath, tears soaking my cheeks before I could stop them. A weak laugh escaped me, hurting my side.

Warden waited for me to collect myself. ‘Do you need help to sit up?’

After a moment, I took his proffered hand. He placed mine on his upper arm, so I could grasp him for support, then reached around my waist to my back, lifting me towards him with care. I tensed at the sharp pain in my side.

It was strange to be pressed so close to him, even though he had held me before. While he moved the pillows to bolster me up, my fingers tightened on his arm, finding it as solid as iron. Even with all my training, I was fragile in comparison. Once I was settled, he let go.

‘So we’re back,’ I said.

‘Yes.’

A faint green stain was dwindling from his eyes. He must have fed on a medium – but not Eliza. She was safe in London, protected by Seven Dials.

‘Carter,’ I said. ‘How did she get away?’

‘By jumping into the Thames.’

She had risked her life by doing that, but I was glad she had gone. Whatever power she had, it was too dangerous for Nashira to steal.

‘You have quite a collection of injuries,’ Warden said. ‘Fortunately, the Vigiles had a trauma surgeon on hand. She saved you. I have continued your treatment here, with dacrodiorin and scimorphine.’

Both of those drugs were exorbitant. One was used to accelerate healing, especially after surgery, while the other was a strong painkiller.

‘Seems like a waste of resources,’ I said, ‘given why I’m here.’

‘Nashira did consider ending it. You were returned here in a private ambulance after three days in Westminster Hospital. On the first night, she ordered me to move your sickbed to the Residence of the Suzerain.’

It hadn’t been a hallucination, then. I really had been laid out on her dinner table.

‘After the paramedics left, you developed a mild fever. Nashira planned to kill you that night, believing your injuries might take you first. Tertius and Situla had reported to her that you possessed David – thus, she no longer had any fear of not gaining your gift in its fullness.’

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