Page 92 of The Bone Season

‘That is what I would like to find out,’ Jaxon said. ‘Over the years, I have classified seven orders of clairvoyance. I believe you may be of the highest order – a dreamwalker, rarest of all. Perhaps the only one.’ He leaned across the table. ‘And I would like to offer you a job.’

‘What sort of job?’

‘The sort that will teach you to master your gift. The sort that will protect you from Scion. Honest work is hard to find,’ Jaxon said, with a mischievous glint in his eye, ‘but dishonest work is far more enlivening.’

‘Scion is everywhere,’ I said. ‘Won’t it be dangerous?’

‘Every day.’ Nick nodded. ‘But we’ll have each other.’

‘And riches aplenty,’ Jaxon said, silken. ‘To cushion our woes.’

My heart thumped at my ribs. A job lined up before I had even left school.

‘I hear your father is amaurotic. We’ll make sure he believes you’re doing something else,’ Jaxon added. ‘Something comfortable and sensible.’

Nick nodded again, solemnly.

I had lived in fear of myself for so long. I had lived in fear of Scion. For over a decade, I had fought to survive the anchor; to be as small and unnoticed as possible, so it might not crush me altogether.

Jaxon was offering me more. If there was any chance that I could live – any chance I could grow into what I was, embrace it – then I had to take it.

‘I’ve just the one question,’ I said.

‘Go on,’ Jaxon purred.

‘How much do you pay?’

Jaxon Hall smiled until the corners of his eyes crinkled.

‘Nick,’ he said softly, ‘I do believe you may have found our fourth of Seven Seals.’ He clinked my glass. ‘To you, Paige Mahoney.’

I smiled back.

A GREAT EMPTINESS

For a long while, Warden and I maintained a chilly silence. He never ordered me to train. Every night, I would leave Magdalen as soon as the bell rang, ignoring him. He didn’t stop me. I almost wished he would try – frankly, I was in the mood for a fight.

Pleione had served that unreadable up like a nice cup of mecks, to be drained at his pleasure. Warden might pretend to take an interest in my life, but humans were just things to him. I had been a fool to save him once, let alone twice.

Warden was stealing out to fight Buzzers. I didn’t know why it mattered, but it must.

Unfortunately, I had no proof. I had searched in vain for even a speck. The floor had been scrupulously cleaned, the bedding changed. Warden could safely call my bluff.

My first attempt to outflank my keeper had officially gone down in flames. I would take it on the chin and win the upper hand another way.

As the days passed, my resentment of him kept simmering. Each time I glimpsed him, I was tempted to sell him out, with or without evidence. All that stopped me was a greater hatred of Nashira.

The attic was getting colder. I refused to ask Warden for help, so I handled it as best I could, wrapping myself up tight in the bedding.

By day, I dreamed of the past, memories dripping into my sleep. The flux must have sprung a leak in my dreamscape. Jaxon had never said that was possible, but nothing else made sense. When I woke from hazy dreams of Seven Dials, I would hug my knees to my chest and wait for my heart to slow down, tasting salt.

I had given up hope that the others were coming. It had been too long. Jaxon would go to great lengths to protect me, but it would never cross his mind that I could be in the lost city, of all places.

No, he would assume I had been executed. The Pale Dreamer was dead.

Three weeks into giving Warden the silent treatment, I woke suddenly, not knowing why. For once, my sleep had been dreamless.

I listened. It was raining hard; the clattering on the roof must have roused me. Still groggy, I covered my head with the pillow.

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