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A sharp reminder that Scion was at war on two fronts. One with the free world, and one with its own unnaturals. “Is the syndicate still using the deep-level shelter?” I asked. It was where they had all hidden from Senshield.

“Yeah. That’s been a big help,” Ivy said, “but a lot of people know about it, which makes it risky. As part of Operation Albion, Scion is handing out immunity from execution in exchange for information. They’ve also managed to plant a few spies in the Mime Order.”

Her expression changed. My fingertips blanched on my mug. “Was there a betrayal?”

“The Ferryman. His whole cell is either dead or imprisoned, sold out for a pardon.”

I closed my eyes. Reorganizing the syndicate into insulated cells had been hard work, but at least none of the captured voyants would be able to betray many others. A small comfort.

“He didn’t give up the shelter, at least,” Ivy said. Her mouth tightened. “Guess he had one shred of decency.”

“What can I do to help?”

“We really need more allies. A new base for voyants who are in particular danger, or are most important to the cause. Eliza reckoned you might have already made contact with the Parisian syndicate, that they might be able to help us with sanctuary or supplies.”

“I made contact with them as soon as I arrived.” I smothered a cough. “Unfortunately, the Rag and Bone Man got his claws into them first. There aren’t many here we can trust.”

Her mouth clamped shut again.

“That’s the other reason I came,” she finally said. “To warn the Parisian syndicate about the Rag and Bone Man. We found out he’d fled here.”

Ivy had been his mollisher. She had unwittingly helped him choose voyants for the gray market, only for him to turn on her and sell her to the Rephaim. It was because of him that she had spent half a year at the mercy of a monster. He had also sanctioned the murder of the woman she loved. If not for her testimony, we would never have discovered his illicit trade.

“His days are numbered,” I said, “but we have something else to do before we get rid of him.”

The oven beeped. I craned myself up and returned to the kitchen, where Arcturus was loading the dishwasher, and served up our meal.

While she ate, I told Ivy everything that had happened, from my infiltration of the Hôtel Garuche to the meeting with the perdues. I chose not to mention Domino, instead implying I had made those plans with Arcturus. Safer for Ivy not to know.

For the most part, Ivy listened in heavy-eyed silence and chewed every mouthful of food as if it were her last. When I got to my reunion with Cade, her brow furrowed in thought.

“I remember him,” she said. “He wasn’t as cruel as the other red-jackets. Never openly mocked me, anyway.” She pulled a face. “Frère, though. That’s poor taste on another level.”

“I said as much to him.”

I kept going. With every revelation, her face hardened a little more. When I stopped, she finished the dregs of her tea.

“I don’t usually say this sort of thing, Paige,” she murmured, “but I feel like the æther made sure I arrived tonight for a reason.” She put the mug down. “I’m going with you to Sheol II.”

As soon as I had seen her in the street, I had known this would happen. “It will be a very difficult journey,” I said. “And we don’t know who or what we’re going to find at the end.”

“Thuban will be there.”

It was the first time Arcturus had spoken in half an hour. I turned to look at him, as did Ivy.

“How do you know?” I said.

“Thuban lacks the qualities necessary in a diplomat, a politician, or a strategist. He is only capable of cruelty. There is nowhere else for him but Sheol II.” He spoke in soft tones, as if Ivy could be startled by too loud a sound. “I do not say this to frighten you, Ivy. Only to warn you.”

“If he is there,” Ivy shot back, “then all the better. I want to do everything to him that he did to me.”

“I urge you not to confront him.”

“Why?” she asked bitterly. “Because I’m a sad victim who’ll never be any kind of threat to him?”

“Because you are alive, and there is no greater vengeance you could take against Thuban.”

Ivy stared at him. I had seen that look in my own eyes many times, in the fog of the mirror, when I rose from the bath and the darkness was close enough to touch.