Page 11 of The Dark Mirror

Opposite me, large windows were cut into a sloping roof, soaking the floor in light. The same exhaustion clung to me, which seemed impossible. Satisfied that I was safe, I curled up in the sun-warmed sheets and closed my eyes, but thirst and discomfort kept me awake.

‘Maria?’

She came in from another room, wearing combat boots and a sleeveless boiler suit of olive linen. A chunky leather belt cinched it at the waist.

‘Finally.’ With a broad smile, she sat beside me. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Not great. Did I sleep for long?’

‘Three days. Apparently, taking too much white aster causes an accumulation in your dreamscape. It eventually turns into something called a whiteout,’ she said. ‘If you stay in that state for toolong, you forget who you are. You’re out of danger, but you’re going to be tired for a while, no matter how much you rest.’

‘As if I wasn’t tired enough.’ I scraped grit from my eyes. ‘I still can’t remember anything since March.’

‘We don’t know a way to reverse such a significant degree of memory loss, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one,’ she said. I nodded as much as I could with a headache. ‘You need a good breakfast. Do you want to shower first?’

‘Is that a hint that Ishouldshower?’

‘I would advise it.’ She ruffled my curls, then went to a wardrobe. ‘Let me get you some clothes. Verca is about your height.’

‘Who?’

‘A local Domino recruiter, and a fixture of the voyant community of Prague. She works to ensure that relations with amaurotics remain open and amicable in Czechia.’

‘So people know about us here.’

‘To a degree. Not everyone takes us seriously, or even believes in us, but personally, I would rather be mocked and doubted than sent to the gallows,’ Maria said. ‘Verca is good with people. She even founded a group that intercedes on our behalf with the Mayor of Prague.’

‘Any special reason her clothes are in your wardrobe?’

‘From the sparkle in your eye, I think you may have guessed.’

I smiled. ‘Since when?’

‘A few weeks.’ She unfolded a pair of dark trousers. ‘But we’ve known each other for a long time – since the Balkan Incursion, in fact. I’m sure Verca will want to tell you the story.’

‘I’m happy for you.’

‘Thank you, sweet. I’m happy for me, too.’

I shifted my legs off the mattress and stood, waiting for another rush of dizziness to pass. Maria dug a collared white shirt from the wardrobe, along with a pair of socks and a jersey.

‘So,’ I said, ‘are you Maria or Yoana here?’

‘Maria is fine. I always liked it. My Domino name is Nina Aprilova, and Verca sometimes calls me Maruška, which is a Czech nickname for Maria.’ She handed me the clothes. ‘Help yourself to whatever you need from the bathroom. There’s a spare toothbrushand a new comb in the top drawer. I’ll go to the bakery while you’re in there. We can talk over breakfast.’

Prague was one of the few cities whose criminals were ambitious enough to make the perilous journey to Scion. Over two years ago, I had met a Czech art dealer, who had bought a forgery from Eliza. I had done business with a handful of smugglers from other European cities, but their appearances had been few and far between.

And now here I was, walking in their world.

The apartment was all raw wood and brick walls, softened by throw cushions and worn leather furniture. A piano stood at one end of the main room. The Domino Programme housed its agents comfortably, presumably to make up for the constant risk of death.

In the bathroom, I peeled off my clothes and stood like a mannequin by the shower. I had hoped the white aster would have dulled my memories of the waterboard, but no such mercy.

Filth, whispered Suhail Chertan, or the likeness of him that lived in my head.To think that you really believed he desired you. My jaw rattled.Imagine his disgust at the feel of your skin, the taste of death on your lips …

My heart was pounding. I reached out to turn a brass lever – slowly, so the water came out in a patter, not a flood.

In the torture chamber, the water had been foul. Here, it could be warm and clean and under my control. Little by little, I increased the pressure. Once the glass had steamed up, I stepped into the downpour, keeping my face out of the way. Soothing heat washed over my shoulders. I found a bottle of shower cream and covered myself in the scent of roses, working it up until it foamed.

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