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“Le Vieux Orphelin is already here. So are the patrones,” he said. We followed him up a slight incline. “Underqueen, for the time being, stay out of sight. You are our trump card.”

“Did you meet my contact?” I asked him.

“Yes. I made sure no one cut her throat.”

He led us through a thicket, into a stone-paved area surrounded by dilapidated buildings, where a figure waited. While the face was new, the dreamscape belonged to Ducos.

She tensed at our approach, one hand in her pocket. “It’s me,” I said to her, stepping forward while the others walked on. “Glad you made it.”

“The feeling is mutual. I was beginning to wonder if you had decided to stay in bed.” Ducos relaxed a little. “I am no longer your supervisor, so I know you are not obliged to answer this question, but why on earth have you chosen to wear a mask representing a notorious fugitive?”

“Just a touch of theatre.” I nodded to the nearest derelict. “There are a lot of anormales in there. Don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“Must I remind you that not drawing attention to myself is the essence of my occupation?”

“No amount of training is going to make you look clairvoyant to people who really are.”

“And what happens if they notice?” she asked, impassive. “A mob hangs me from a lamppost?” She considered the nearest derelict. “Or something bloodier, perhaps. That building used to be an abattoir.”

A bleeding grin around a neck. A flood of metallic darkness over my fingers, soaking my clothes.

“Just keep your head down,” I said.

Léandre waited for us to catch up. He led us through the doors of the largest building, where Le Vieux Orphelin waited in the gloom, hands clasped behind his back. He was dressed in a crimson-and-gold doublet, cinched with a silver belt, and dark trousers tucked into boots.

“This must be your amaurotic companion.” Le Vieux Orphelin inclined his head. “Madelle.”

Ducos eyed him, taking in the mask, the clothes. “Yes,” was her only reply.

Le Vieux Orphelin walked on, beckoning me alone to his side. I smelled dust and abandonment.

“Were you able to recover the ledger?” he asked. I handed it over. “Thank you, Paige. This is a priceless gift.”

“Only if he revealed his real name to anyone,” I reminded him. “But I might be able to help with that, if it comes to it.”

He slowed his pace to turn the pages. When he saw his own name—his real name—his hold on the ledger tightened. “Let us hope the patrones listen.” He shut it. “I will call you forward at a timely moment.”

“We need to be quick.” I closed my eyes before I spoke. “Arct— Warden can trace me in the æther. He hasn’t come after me so far, but I think it’s only a matter of time. I can risk staying for about half an hour, ideally less, before I need to get moving again. To throw him off the scent.”

“Trace you?” The gold mask turned in my direction. “How is such a connection possible?”

“I wish I knew.”

Le Vieux Orphelin withdrew into a short-lived silence. “I will be concise,” he said. “As soon as the alliance is ratified, Léandre will take you back to Passy, if you would be willing to spend a night with us. I would like to return to the subject of Georges Benoît Ménard.”

“Of course.” I swallowed my pride. “In truth, I’d be grateful for a bed. I just lost the place I was staying in.”

“You are always welcome with us.”

Voices resounded nearby. Ahead, two rusted doors were drawn apart for us, and we stepped into a dark and sonorous hall, which years of neglect had distorted into a bizarre dreamscape. Thick pipes swam in and out of the walls. A concrete staircase ended in midair. Rubble had formed a cairn beneath a vast hole in the roof. Past the haze of ochre light from the tower, the night was clear. The ceiling was a yawning mouth that rattled with a thousand stars.

At least a hundred voyants had gathered, their puffs of breath drifting up to the rafters. These must be the patrones and other influential members of the syndicate, along with well-chosen witnesses.

Le Latronpuche and La Reine des Thunes had not yet arrived.

“Ignace,” I said quietly, and sensed him turn. “When did you decide to put the mask on for good?”

After a pause, he answered. “When there was too much inside me that I could no longer hide.”