Page 68 of The Bone Season

‘When those Underguards detected you, you must have believed your life hung in the balance. Your spirit responds to danger.’ He levelled the blade at me. ‘Allow me to provide it.’

‘Don’t you—’

He threw the knife. I twisted to avoid it, hearing it clatter on to the concrete.

‘You have quick reflexes,’ he observed.

I flicked a curl from my eyes, teeth gritted. ‘Were you trying to hit me?’

‘Perhaps.’

He looked towards the watchtower and raised his hand in a clear signal.

Something flew past my ear. I recognised the whistle of a flux dart. Before I could even flinch, a second came my way. I gave in to those quick reflexes and ran.

Another dart had me turning south. The fourth almost hit me in the shoulder. They were herding me towards the ethereal fence. My sixth sense quivered. By the time I was six feet away, I was nauseous.

Now multiple darts were crisscrossing around me, driving me towards the boundary. I stumbled on a wedge of cement and fell into the frozen wires.

My vision turned white, then red. Goosebumps broke out all over me, and fractured memories stuttered before my eyes – the memories of the poltergeist, a murder victim. A deafeningbangshook my every bone. I saw a spill of blood, bone shards. My stomach gave an almighty heave. I hit the ground and retched.

When I came to my senses, my body felt uncoordinated. I crawled and lurched away from the fence, blinking away grisly impressions.

Warden was waiting for me. I retrieved his knife, my fingers almost too numb to grip it.

‘All right,’ I said, breathing hard. ‘If you want a fight, let’s do it.’

‘I would not stoop to sparring with a craven like you, human.’

I shook my head. ‘You told me to—’

‘You are not a worthy opponent.’ Now his voice was cold as steel. ‘You hid your gift in your first test. Now you run from me. The yellow tunic is too good for you. I should have you beaten.’

The anger was as sudden as it was blinding. I ran at him, driving my good shoulder into his trunk.

I might as well have charged a statue. Not only did Warden not budge an inch, but I was the one who went reeling back, winded.

‘As you conjectured earlier, you cannot best me with your bare hands,’ he said. ‘Play to your strengths, or you will fail.’

I grasped my shoulder, shaken. ‘Are you made of stone, or something?’

‘Unlike you, I am no weakling.’ His eyes burned. ‘Small wonder you could not save Sebastian.’

And just like that, I felt myself sever. The ghastly pull from that day on the train – spirit rending from skin and bone, the agony before release.

A dreamwalker can cross the æther, Jaxon whispered.She alone can be discarnate …

I shed my body and flew at Warden.

My spirit went slashing into his mind. Like a knife through taut silk, I cut through his defences, entering the darkest circle of his dreamscape.

As soon as I was there, I regretted it. I was straining against formidable strength, barriers I had no means of breaking. The light of his centre was so far away, and I was already exhausted. Like an elastic band stretched too far, I snapped back across the æther.

My heart fluttered. My cheekbone hurt. I drew a shallow breath, got my bearings. When I opened my eyes, I was sprawled on the ground.

Aludra had buckled when I attacked her. Warden was still upright, but I had rattled his composure. The light in his eyes flickered.

‘Very good,’ he said. ‘Better than I expected, given your injuries.’

---