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In my room, I sat alone, thinking of Ischia and Capri. One island to imprison voyants, and one – perhaps – to hold a traitor. Too subtle and poetic a brand of cruelty for Hildred Vance. She went for the throat, swift and efficient. This was a blade that aimed for the gut. A slow, torturous bleed.

It had to be Nashira, witness to our first embrace. The only person who had ever seen me kiss Arcturus. She had manipulated me before. Now I needed to think like my enemy.

Nashira knew I was willing to gamble on poor odds. She knew I had fallen for her trick in Paris, and that I might have realised it by now. By evoking the Lugentes Campi, she was not only rubbing my nose in my failure, but sneering at Arcturus for wasting his love on me.

In Paris, she had watched me plead with him, convinced he was betraying me. Time and again she had poisoned our trust.

It wasn’t jealousy. Nashira was above such a petty emotion, and had never held a shred of affection for Arcturus, but our relationship had always threatened her beliefs. In her world, a Reph and a human could simply not feel the way we had for each other. Shewanted to obliterate our bond to prove it had never been strong in the first place.

She wanted me consumed by guilt. She wanted me to charge to his rescue again. This time, I had learned from experience. I could see every pressure point she was touching. An island named for star-crossed love, surrounded by a fear Nashira had instilled in me.

Hildred Vance had a method. She worked out her opponents’ weaknesses and exploited them. In Edinburgh, she had recreated the Dublin Incursion, knowing I had only just survived it as a child. She and Nashira could have designed this together.

Nashira must believe I was either long dead or in hiding. If it was the latter, she needed to force me out. Vance could have persuaded her that the best way of doing that was to send me running into the elaborate trap of Capri. That specific choice of island seemed deliberate, to draw media attention and make sure plenty of people were talking about it. Even with the threat of the eruption, there was no obvious reason it should have been evacuated.

I might find soldiers and tanks on its shore. The whole island could be sown with landmines. I might find Arcturus there, but only his severed head, left as a death blow to my sanity.

I could see it all from where I stood. Every cog and spring and lever, every move in a long game.

It felt like a trap. It also felt like a test.

What if this time, she was expecting menotto rise to the bait, leaving Arcturus there for ever, abandoned by his faithless, mortal lover?

What if this wasn’t just meant to torment me, but him?

All at once, the room was too stifling to bear. I needed to be outside. I dressed in a few swift movements and strode down the corridor, planning to jog a mile or two around the city. Before my torture, I had always thought most clearly on the roofs at night, under the stars, surrounded by the sounds of the citadel. I would try to tap into that state of mind again.

Before I could, a man blocked my path. One of the voyants from the emergency meeting – a medium, who had never spoken. I took up a defensive stance at once, but all he did was stand there. At the sight of his lax features and blank gaze, I realised he was possessed.

‘I bear a message,’ he ground out. ‘For the dreamwalker.’ I waited, heart thudding. ‘Meet the one you summoned at the Certosa di Bologna, two days hence, when the sun is highest.’

He crumpled as the spirit let him go. I caught him before he could hit the floor. ‘You’re all right,’ I murmured, while he coughed himself to tears. ‘Come on. Let’s get you to the medic.’

10

REUNION

I took the medium to Nick. After that, I fell asleep, reassured by the knowledge that Terebell was coming.

It didn’t last for long. I woke in a cage of cold skin, unable to move so much as a finger. I could only stare at the ceiling, feeling as if my blood had stopped flowing.

I don’t know how long I lay there. At last, I managed to snap upright. Some instinct made me pull on the cord, the dead and heavy cord, more lead than gold.

‘I’m here,’ I whispered. ‘What are you trying to tell me?’

I didn’t know why I was talking out loud.

‘Are you on Capri or Ischia?’

There was no answer. I held myself, taking deep breaths, waiting for the feeling of unease to pass.

It soon became apparent that I needed to shake it off with some force. Before the sun had risen, I was leaving the Palazzo del Domino, craving a run along the waterfront, where the streetlamps were aglow.

By the time I returned to my room, the sun was up, the streets burning. In the bar, I ordered an early lunch and chose a seat in the corner. When Nick joined me at noon, I looked up.

‘How’s the medium?’

‘He has a sore throat and a headache, but he’s stable. He doesn’t remember what he said.’ Nick held a glass of white ersatz. ‘That was quite a way for Terebell to establish contact.’