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“Not that I could tell.”

“Great.” She took the clamp off my finger. “Ducos might actually crack a smile when she hears.”

“Where is Ducos?”

“I put her on lunch duty. Espionage is hungry work.” When I tried to sit up, Cordier stopped me with a slight laugh. “Cool your heels, Lazarus. You just rose from the dead.”

“I’ve done it before.” My thoughts ran thick. “Who the hell is Lazarus?”

“Long story.” She powered down the ventilator. “You know, Flora, I’ve heard all kinds of interesting rumors about what clairvoyants can do, but seeing is believing. You could be anyone. Go anywhere. If I were you, I’d be all over the world, inhabiting the rich and famous.”

“It’s not as easy as it sounds. And I take no joy in treating people like puppets. Even people like Frère.”

“Of course.” She glanced at my face and smiled. “Just kidding.”

“Oh. Sorry.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “The half pint of coffee clearly wasn’t enough.”

“I’m surprised you’re awake at all, after what you just went through. My nerves were down to nothing.” Cordier unclipped a small case and took out some equipment. “Scion must be terribly afraid of this ability of yours. Are there many anormales who can do the same?”

That word felt different when an amaurotic said it. Then again, I supposed she might not know the right one. “I’m the only dreamwalker,” I said, too tired to explain. “As far as I know.”

“That must get lonely.”

“I’ve never known anything different. No one knows exactly what it is to be you, either, do they?”

“True.” Cordier wrapped a cuff around my upper arm. “Just taking your blood pressure, if I may.” She activated the monitor. “Flora, is your cough productive?”

It took me a moment to work out what she meant. “A little.”

“All right.” The cuff began to constrict. “And you’ve had this cough for how long?”

“Couple of weeks.” It was only half a lie. “I’m fine to carry on.”

“I’d still like to rule out anything serious,” Cordier said, somehow gentle and firm at once. The cuff squeezed my arm tight. “I came straight here from my last assignment, so I don’t have everything I need, but I’ll give you a thorough checkup once you’re finished with Frère.”

A dull throb filled my arm. I stared at the wall and flexed my fingers in and out of a fist.

An intelligent creature would have ended the pain by now. It would have answered my questions. The bite of iron at my wrists, screwed tight.A dull, filthy beast must be chained. But all it has to do is speak . . .

“There we are.” The cuff loosened with a sigh. I opened my eyes to see Cordier check the reading. “You should get some rest until Ducos gets back. Your blood pressure is a little low.”

With blurred vision, I looked at the faint, matching marks on my wrists. “I need some air.”

Cordier looked up in surprise. “What?”

I was already off the bed, my only thought to get outside. Then red-hot pain stabbed into my temple, and I caught the back of the couch, too dizzy to take another step. Cordier carted me straight back to bed before I could protest. She was stronger than she looked.

“I am ordering you to rest now, Flora.” Then, softer: “I’ll give you something for the pain.”

A quick prick in my arm followed. It dulled the headache enough to let me slip into a fitful doze. Now and again, I stirred and glimpsed a silhouette by the window, but by the time I woke for good, Cordier was gone.

Rain freckled the apartment windows. I cautiously sat up. While the last of my headache dwindled, I wrote down everything I had heard in the mansion. Everything that might be of use.

Most of it pertained to the invasion. Frère was meeting with the Minister for Industry, who was in charge of ordnance, and lunching with Françoise Vérany, spouse to the Grand Commander of France. Ménard was—as expected—wholly focused on the invasion.

Ducos turned up at noon, looking as tired as I felt. She had brought a meal in a cardboard box.

“Where’s Cordier?” she asked.