Page 83 of The Bone Season

Warden glanced away. I followed the blood to a new source, realising.

‘Right.’ I pushed my curls back. ‘You need to take your shirt off.’

‘I cannot move enough to do that.’

‘I’ll have to cut it, then.’

‘Do as you will. I will clearly not be wearing it again.’

With a nod, I retrieved the letter opener. When I had it, I sat back down and pulled the front of his shirt taut. Turning the blade, I let the tip rest at the hollow of his throat.

Warden watched me, apparently undaunted. Brushing aside the loose ties below his collar, I sliced the shirt. The gloves and the dull edge made it hard, but I managed to get down to his last rib.

All the while, I avoided his gaze. I was close enough that I should have been able to hear and see him breathing, but Rephs must only need aura.

I started to peel the shirt away from the remaining wounds. His muscular chest was split open, the skin raked as if with a pitchfork.

Rephs were strong. If he was this hurt, surely humans stood no chance.

‘These are the last,’ he said. ‘I believe.’

I scrunched more linen into the water. ‘Did the Buzzer rip that armour off you?’

‘Yes. No armour can withstand them for long, but I suspect it was expressing its displeasure at my attempt to thwart it.’

‘They’re intelligent, then.’

‘To a degree.’ His pupils dilated. ‘Perhaps you will indulge another question. When did your gift first make itself known?’

I wished I could end this farce and tell him my life was none of his business, but our proximity gave me a chance to look for weak spots on his body.

‘When I was nine, a poltergeist attacked me,’ I finally said. ‘In the months after it happened, I had a recurring dream – at least, I thought it was a dream. I saw a field of red flowers. The farther I ran, the darker it became. Every night I would go farther.’

I started on the lowest gouge, which ran along the solid muscle of his waist, right beneath his chest. He no longer tensed under my touch.

So far, he looked human. Other than his eyes, the only difference was that dull sheen to his skin. Then again, I could only see so much of him. Even in this state, he wore those gloves.

‘One day, I was at the edge of the field. In the dream, I jumped,’ I said. ‘I stepped over the edge, and everything went dark. I woke up in intensive care. Apparently I had sleepwalked out of my room, then just … stopped breathing. My father rushed me to hospital. I was home the next day, and it somehow got buried. I really don’t know how I wasn’t detected.’

‘Your medical files show no record of that incident.’

‘Well, thanks for that invasion of my privacy.’

I pressed hard on the wound. A rough sound scraped his throat.

‘Perhaps I deserved that,’ he said.

‘You did.’ I hooked my hair behind my ear again, the gloves making it difficult. ‘I must have slipped out of my body. After that, I was afraid of the void. I never went near the edge again.’

‘Until the night of your arrest,’ Warden finished. I nodded. ‘The poltergeist gave you the scars on your palm.’

‘Yes.’ I moved to the next slash. This one was deeper. ‘I think it woke my gift a few years early. I’ve heard that can happen.’

‘Hm. And from whom did you hear this, I wonder?’

Now I was treading dangerous waters. I couldn’t let on that I was involved in the syndicate.

‘I’ve had voyant friends,’ I said offhandedly. ‘Most of them went to the gallows.’

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