Page 20 of The Dark Mirror (The Bone Season #5)

20

SEVEN HILLS

ROME

10 October 2060

We had to wait a while for a new car. Ducos called a second contact to get rid of the damaged ones, along with the bodies of Cordier and her accomplice, whose passport helped us identify him as a Swiss mercenary named Lennart Bohren, a former associate of the Domino Programme.

And just like that, it was over. I never had to worry about them coming back for me.

It seemed a hollow victory.

Rome wrapped us in the glow of its streetlamps. It was strange to not be able to feel the ?ther, which was the first thing I usually noticed in new places. Ducos stopped on a quiet street.

‘Keep your weapons concealed, as you would in Scion. With President Sala out of contact, we might not be able to assist if you’re arrested.’ She offered me a thin metal card. ‘You can use this to withdraw any money you require, whether for sustenance or bribes.’

I pocketed the card. I’d had a bank account in Scion, but it would have been closed when I was detained.

Ducos climbed out of the car with a grimace. I followed, taking my holdall and weapons from the boot. Once Arcturus was out, Ducos showed us into a Renaissance building. Beyond the entrance, a courtyard housed a few tables and a marble fountain. As far as I could tell without the ?ther, there was no one else around.

On the upper floor, a gallery overlooked the courtyard. Ducos led us to a pair of adjacent rooms, each with a lockbox mounted outside. She used different codes to open them and presented us each with a key.

‘The Chiostro del Bramante,’ she said. ‘Domino personnel often meet here. It’s essentially a private hotel.’

‘Does Sala know about it?’

‘Fortunately not. Before I leave, do you need any medical treatment, Warden?’

‘No,’ Arcturus said. ‘Thank you.’

‘You took five bullets from a revolver.’

‘They are earthly metal.’

‘I see.’ She looked sceptical. ‘You … get yourselves settled. I need to contact Pivot.’

I unlocked my door. In the bathroom, I rinsed the blood off my hands, watching the water turn rusty.

Lennart Bohren had enjoyed his work for Cordier. Each time I escaped, he had stalked me through the streets. He had let me believe I was getting away, only to crush my hopes with the white aster. I should not feel any remorse for shooting him, or any pity for Cordier.

My wrist throbbed. I flexed my fingers, knowing a tiny bone was dying inside me, and there was nothing I could do about it. I had ignored the pain for too long.

Ducos returned to the upper floor. By that time, I was leaning on the balustrade, gazing into nothing.

‘Flora,’ Ducos said. ‘Are you all right?’

I nodded. ‘Did you get hold of Pivot?’

‘Yes. Spinner has been apprehended, as have multiple intruders from Tinman. Pivot has recalled the whole of Command to discuss our cuckoo problem. You and Warden are safe.’

‘For now.’ I rubbed my eyes. ‘Are you leaving straight away?’

‘Yes. I need to join my colleagues.’

‘You can’t drive all that way with a broken rib.’

‘I’ll take the first train back to Venice.’ She handed me a thick file, bound with oilskin. ‘This is our dossier on President Sala. It contains all information we have on her personal life, her public duties, her political career, and so on. If you haven’t located either her or Fitzours after two weeks, we’ll recall you to Venice and discuss a different approach. But I think you can find her, Flora. I think you will notice something none of us have.’

I was almost too surprised to reply. She had never expressed such confidence in me before.

‘I’ll do my best,’ I said.

‘Call if I can help from Venice. Remember to keep your dissimulator on,’ she said. ‘As soon as I’ve spoken to Pivot, I’ll set about finding somewhere more secure for Warden.’

‘Thank you.’

‘All right.’ She checked her watch. ‘I’d better go to the station. Good luck.’

She left.

I switched my phone on. Nick and Maria had called several times. They were probably still awake and worried, but I sent my explanation as a message, too drained to talk.

A breeze went through the courtyard, unsettling my hair. I traced the white dots on the dossier.

Cordier had given me some closure. I was still left to face the stark reality of what she had done. It would almost have felt better if it had been personal, but I had just been a bartering chip, and Arcturus an obstacle. I was a queen on my own board, but a pawn on hers. Now I remembered the night of the airstrike, and the words of the medium who had grabbed me.

The Devil has deceived you . Two horns, two wings, two cloven hooves.

In the Major Arcana, the Devil was a symmetrical figure. It must always have represented two people, one to chain each of the Lovers – Cordier for me, and Cade for Arcturus.

The way I see it, you must follow the path of the Lovers , Elspeth Lin had said, building on the reading her niece had given me. Stay close to the person you think the card might represent, and make sure you’ve identified that person correctly. If you stray from whoever it is, I suspect you’ll be vulnerable to the Devil.

Now I was living proof that voyants could be just as foolish as amaurotics. Even with all those warnings, I had walked into the jaws of the trap, away from Arcturus. One Devil was dead, but the other remained. I had to find and kill him, to put the card to rest at last.

As for the mysterious Lepidopterist, I might never know who had asked Cordier to abduct me, or why. With her death, my only lead was gone. And all I knew was that he was a Scion defector.

Arcturus opened his door and came to stand beside me at the balustrade. I glanced at him.

‘How are you, Paige?’

‘I’m grand,’ I said.

‘You know that does not work on me.’

Even Nick, my best friend, didn’t know me as well as Arcturus did. I had missed being able to talk to him. I took half a step away, giving him space.

‘Cordier took six months from us both,’ I said. ‘The whole time, we were just a means to an end.’

‘It seems to me that Cordier was a victim of manipulation.’

‘She can join the club.’

Arcturus waited. He had a way of knowing when I was finished, and when I needed more time to unpack a thought.

‘I shot Bohren,’ I said quietly. ‘I didn’t even do it consciously. I just shot him dead on instinct.’

‘He took pleasure in hunting you.’

‘But that’s the reason all this happened, isn’t it?’ I murmured. ‘Because humans kill like it’s going out of fashion. We don’t restrain ourselves.’ I swallowed the sour taste in my throat. ‘I didn’t have to finish the Rag and Bone Man off like I did, either. Nashira isn’t wrong to judge us.’

‘You are not violent by nature, Paige. You have killed either by accident, in self-defence or for others’ protection,’ Arcturus said. ‘You took care to say the threnody for both Cordier and Bohren, even though they gave you no cause to show them any respect in death.’

‘I could have been working on my gift for those six months, building alliances with other citadels in Scion. Instead, I was a prisoner again, and I’ve no one to blame for it but myself.’ I shook my head. ‘I couldn’t train. I couldn’t strategise. I lost all of that time for nothing.’

I lost you for nothing .

‘What Cordier and Bohren did is indefensible,’ Arcturus said, ‘but it is possible to find a silver lining. Your absence gave the revolution an opportunity to overcome its growing pains. It has proven that you do not need to bear the entire burden of this war alone. You laid a strong foundation; now it is up to all of us, voyant and Ranthen, to build on it.’

I knew he would have touched me then, if things between us were the same as they had been in Paris. He would have taken my hand, or stroked my hair, to reassure me of his sincerity. As it stood, neither of us moved, because nothing was the same as it had been in Paris.

‘I know,’ I said. ‘I just wish things had gone differently.’

‘I told you once that all threads in the ?ther have their purpose.’

‘What purpose was there in you being tortured?’

‘Perhaps to remind me that I am no longer the warrior I was in the Netherworld,’ Arcturus said. ‘Protecting you with my body was the way I saw fit to help you in France, the way I served the Mothallath. Now my body is resisting me, I must reckon with my calling.’

‘Arcturus, you’re not some empty-headed bruiser. And you weren’t always my bodyguard,’ I said. ‘You have so much more to offer the cause than your sword.’

‘I fail to see what else I have to offer, in this state.’

‘Don’t say that.’

His gaze darted to mine.

‘Look,’ I said, ‘if you want to help me with this assignment, I have something you can do from right here.’ I slid the dossier towards him. ‘How about some more reading material?’

Arcturus picked up the dossier and opened it. The first page showed the emblem of Italy.

‘This is all about President Sala. I’m hoping it will give me somewhere to start looking for her,’ I said. ‘I told you I don’t have the patience for reading. This needs someone who does. You’re not just the brawn of this enterprise. You were always the brains, too.’

‘Hm. And if I am the brains and the brawn, what are you?’

I flashed him a smile. ‘The bravado?’

‘You understate your intelligence.’

‘You have a different sort,’ I said. ‘You read in more depth. You see details I don’t, like when you worked out how to reach Versailles. Could you tell me if anything jumps out at you?’

Arcturus closed the dossier. ‘I will read it by midday.’

‘Thanks.’ I paused. ‘Are you sure you don’t need any help with the bullets?’

‘No. I will manage,’ he said. ‘Goodnight, Paige.’

‘Goodnight.’

He went back to his room. When I heard the door lock, I rested my arms on the balustrade, heavy with all the words I couldn’t say.

I slept deeply, though not for long. Around nine, I woke, my arm curled around a pillow. I lay in bed for another hour, dwelling on the two Devils.

The sixth card in my reading had been Eight of Swords. You can’t move in any direction with ease. You can stay in one place, trapped and stagnant, or feel the pain of the swords. All paths lead to anguish.

At last, I got out of bed and threw a window open. I had been stagnant long enough. If there was more pain in store, let it come. Surely I knew how to carry it now.

Rome was a little warmer than Venice, the sun bright in a cloudless sky. For once, I didn’t feel too exhausted to face it. I unfolded a long-sleeved blouse, a lightweight jersey, and a pair of black jeans. I braced my sore left wrist and put on my holster and weapons, covering them with my jacket.

I had drunk enough alysoplasm to conceal me through the night. Now I sipped a little more. Once I had scrubbed the foul taste off my teeth, I was ready for a day of hunting.

Arcturus had said he would be done by noon. Ducos had furnished me with a data pad, which I used to consult Omnia, giving me an overview of Rome.

It was known as the City of Seven Hills, or the Eternal City, which sounded like the perfect trophy for the Suzerain. Once the heart of an ancient and terrible empire, it held thousands of years of human civilisation, religion and culture. If Nashira did seize this place, it would be a symbolic victory, as well as a strategic one. I noted my own location on the watch. The district was Ponte, close to the River Tiber.

At midday, I went to the next room. Arcturus let me inside, his movements stiff again.

‘Good day, Paige.’

‘Hi,’ I said. ‘Any luck?’

‘I believe so.’

He closed the door. I sat down in the chair by the window, where sunlight poured in.

‘President Sala has a well-documented history of speaking out against Scion, and has expressed her personal support for voyants on several occasions. I am sure you already know that her official residence is the Palazzo del Quirinale,’ Arcturus said. ‘Most of the information in the dossier is public knowledge, and I doubt that it will serve you in your search. The only detail that caught my attention was an endeavour known as the Forum Project.’

‘Go on,’ I said.

‘The Roman Forum was a plaza surrounded by ruins, which served as the administrative and judicial centre of Ancient Rome. An architect named Giosuè Barraco proposed rebuilding it. The Forum Project attracted protests from traditional conservators immediately, hampering its progress, but Barraco was determined and persuasive. Sala was his student at the Sapienza University of Rome, and later used her political influence as Minister for Culture to drive the project forward.’

‘Just so I’m sure I understand this,’ I said, ‘they want to rebuild a ruin?’

‘I gather conservation is the usual way in the free world, with ruins maintained to prevent deterioration. Sala and Barraco took a restorative and reconstructive approach. Their aim was to return the Roman Forum to its former glory, taking it from a ruin to a functional complex. There appears to be no precedent on this scale.’

‘That does seem like an odd way to spend money. Any idea what gave her this passion?’

‘Sala believed the Forum should be reintegrated into daily life, rather than left to crumble for tourists, but she agreed to use the same building techniques and materials as the ancient Romans, to make sure its original character was preserved, and to leave the neighbouring Forum of Caesar untouched. Only a portion of the project would be funded by the taxpayer, while Sala would raise the outstanding funds herself. Public access is restricted until August, but Sala visits the site frequently. Other than the expected team of architects, civil engineers, and so forth, a select few others have been allowed to enter. Domino has identified two of them,’ Arcturus said. ‘Rohan Mistry, a former diplomat, and Kafayat Ekundayo, a well-known barrister, who specialises in international law.’ He showed me their photographs. ‘They have no relevant expertise, which begs the question of why they are visiting so frequently.’

‘You think I should try to see it, then?’

‘Sala clearly has great passion for this project, despite the opposition she has faced. Unless you can find a more concrete lead, this seems a good place to direct your interest.’

‘Okay. Any other lines of investigation?’

‘Not in my opinion.’ He shut the dossier and held it out. ‘Sala has a presidential estate in Castelporziano, on the outskirts of Rome, but I imagine Domino has already looked there.’

‘The Forum, then.’ I accepted the dossier. ‘Thank you. I knew you’d narrow down my options.’

‘Will you leave at once?’

‘I might talk to Ver?a first. She studied architecture in Italy. Maybe she worked on the Forum Project.’ I sighed. ‘I’m a mob boss. How and why am I suddenly investigating Roman ruins?’

‘This war will be conducted in many arenas. I trust in your ability to adapt.’

‘Thanks.’ I took note of his eyes. ‘Arcturus, you have to feed, and it’s not safe for you to go out. If Scion gets wind that you’re not on Capri—’ I couldn’t finish. ‘Just use my aura. I know you’re trying to be noble, but I’m offering.’

‘Your connection to the ?ther will not sustain us both when you are taking alysoplasm.’

‘You were already in a bad way, and now you’re having to poison yourself. I don’t know how you’re expecting to hold out much longer,’ I said. ‘Have the bullets come out?’

‘No. I suspect that I must take aura before my body will expel them.’ Arcturus avoided my gaze. ‘I will leave at dusk. I am more likely to move unseen once darkness has fallen.’

‘Suit yourself.’ I stood. ‘Be careful.’

I left, closing his door behind me. As I returned to my own room, I took out my phone.

It’s Paige, I wrote to Ver?a. Do you know anything about the Forum Project?

After a few minutes, she answered: A few of the top students from the University of Florence were invited to work on it, but I declined, as I wasn’t especially interested in conservation architecture – my area of interest was interior design. I regret it now, as I’ve found its progress fascinating.

Sala is involved. I’m wondering if I can pick up her trail there.

It is her pet project. It won’t open until next year, but I’m sure I still have the letter inviting me to attend the site. I can bring that and my diploma, and we’ll try our luck.

When are you getting here?

I’ll be on the earliest flight tomorrow. I can meet you in the Campidoglio at 11, if that works for you?

I sent back an affirmative. Given the amount of secrecy surrounding the Forum Project, I doubted I would get in there without my gift, but Ver?a might be able to talk us in.

For now, I would explore. I donned my dissimulator and left the Chiostro del Bramante. Under the afternoon sun, I walked across dark cobbles, past buildings built and painted in the pastel shades of dawn. Here and there, iron lanterns reached over the winding streets, lush green leaves cascaded down the walls, and people rode scooters and bikes.

Not being able to feel any spirits or dreamscapes was unsettling, but my other five senses were overwhelmed as it was. Though Rome was a touch calmer than Naples, it sprawled across more ground than Venice. I wove between flocks of people, finding shade under archways and awnings.

The first place I approached was the Palazzo Chigi, where the Prime Minister worked. The square was full of surveillance cameras and vehicles marked polizia , and guards flanked the gates of the building. Cade could be living nearby, a constant lurking threat to Rinaldi. All of this security meant nothing to a dreamwalker.

I sat on the edge of a fountain and watched passers-by for a while. It was futile to think one might be Cade, but even in a city I didn’t know, I could only rely on the sort of tactics I had used in London and Paris. If I did happen to see him, I had already decided that I would tail him to an isolated spot and knife him. He wouldn’t sense me coming.

After a while, the guards noticed me. I left before they could question my interest in the building.

I walked to my next stop, passing a striking landmark called the Trevi Fountain. According to Omnia, the statue presiding over it was supposed to be Oceanus, an ancient god of fresh water. He had originated in Greece, where every trace of him would be long gone.

A young couple took a picture of themselves in front of his pool. As they grinned, a pickpocket relieved one of them of a wallet. At least some things never changed.

The Palazzo del Quirinale was up a shallow incline. I climbed a set of steps to reach it. Once again, I sat down and observed my surroundings for a while, but there was no sign of Cade.

Of course not. This wasn’t Scion. Without my gift I didn’t know where to start looking for one man. I would give it another couple of days, to buy Ducos time to get Arcturus out, then let the alysoplasm wear off, so I could probe the ?ther. It would be a significant risk, but there might not be any other way to confirm whether or not Cade was here.

I returned to Ponte with nothing to show for my first excursion. Out of options, I checked Omnia.

The Forum Project (Italian: Progetto Foro) is an ongoing effort to reconstruct the Roman Forum . First proposed by Giosuè Barraco in 2020, and later galvanised by Beatrice Sala , the project aims to integrate the Forum back into public life. It has been partly funded by private donors and institutions. The project is scheduled for completion in the summer of 2061, thirty years after Barraco officially received permission to begin its restoration.

I read the whole entry, along with every article I could find on the Forum Project. There was a great deal of speculation, with an undercurrent of displeasure. Even if most Italians had accepted the Forum Project, the cost to the taxpayer was irritating a fair amount of people, including the Prime Minister. Some Italians felt that interfering with ruins was an act of outright vandalism. I skimmed the dossier myself, just in case Arcturus had missed anything, but he was thorough.

My stomach growled. I got up, wondering if meals were provided here, then shook my head. Venice really had given me notions.

I slotted my new card into a cash machine and used the money to buy a box of fresh pasta from a nearby restaurant. Once I was back in my room, I ate my supper, watching the Italian news on my data pad. All I could do now was wait until Ver?a landed in the morning.

My instincts told me to find Giosuè Barraco. He was an archaeologist and restoration architect, who had taught Sala at university. They had been close friends ever since, with Barraco stepping in when her father had died. She had no other living family. If she had entrusted her whereabouts to anyone, it had to be him.

Arcturus must have already left. I tried to stay awake until he returned, but by one in the morning, I hadn’t heard him. Trying not to worry, I slept.

The next day was even warmer. I drank my alysoplasm. My body was getting used to the poison, but it still caused a bout of cramps and dizziness.

I knocked for Arcturus, but there was no answer. After a moment, I tried to open the door, afraid he might have gone out and been caught, but it was bolted from the inside. He must be asleep.

Ver?a would be at the meeting place in an hour. I left early so I could stop for breakfast. A waitron showed me to a table in the shade, where I took out my phone. I was sure I had rarely looked at my phone in Scion, but people seemed obsessed with them out here.

Did you feed?

It took Arcturus a while to reply. The waitron brought me an iced coffee, which I sipped as I read.

It was more difficult than I anticipated. I will try again tonight.

This was his sixth day without aura. I had never known a Reph to abstain for so long.

You can’t wait any more, I wrote. My offer stands.

So does my answer.

I never thought you’d be this much of a fool.

I know how long it takes to succumb.

I couldn’t argue. He had learned the hard way.

Once I had eaten and forced down a couple of glasses of water, I paid and kept walking. As I closed in on the Forum, the streets became longer, the buildings grander. The sun beat down on my shoulders. I went up a steep flight of steps and skirted a public square, keeping to the shade of a colonnade. As soon as I emerged, I stopped dead.

A bronze wolf stood at the top of a column.

Slowly, I approached the sculpture, which included two boys sheltering under the wolf, mouths open to drink her milk. I suddenly remembered the shadow on the wall, thrown by the casting Nuray had made. Ver?a was gazing up at it, her expression troubled.

‘Ver?a,’ I said.

She came back to herself.

‘Paige,’ she said, sounding relieved. ‘Maria told me what happened with Cordier. Are you all right?’

‘Fine. Just a few scrapes.’

‘Tinman has a reputation, but this is worse than anything I’ve heard about their tactics. Pivot must be furious.’ She glanced at the sculpture again. ‘This is what I thought Nuray might have seen in her casting. It could be a coincidence, but it is strange that it’s so close to the place you want to investigate.’ She led me past it. ‘Let me show you the Forum.’

The next street curved downhill. We stood by a railing and looked out at a wealth of pale stone.

A triumphal arch loomed ahead. It obscured most of the Forum, but I could make out a white plaza beyond it. To our right were three magnificent Roman buildings, boasting tall columns and sculptures, their roofs tiled in green and blue and lavender. Two had scaffolding on them. Beyond all this, I glimpsed trees on another hill.

‘I take it you’ve read about the Forum Project,’ Ver?a said.

‘Yes. I’m curious to know why Sala has been so fixated on it,’ I said. ‘What do you think of it, as an architect?’

‘I used to think it was an appalling waste of time and money, but I’ve come to see it as a remarkable achievement. I’ve been looking forward to visiting when it opens. But how do you think this will help us find Sala?’

‘She wouldn’t have left without giving someone a way to contact her. Giosuè Barraco might be that person. It’s a long shot, but it’s all I have.’

‘You could be right. Barraco is like a father to Sala,’ Ver?a said. ‘He’s often on-site, I hear. We can try.’

She led me down from the hill. We passed a sun-baked field of ruins, the ones Sala had agreed not to touch.

The entrance to the Forum was an enormous marble archway, covered in flowers. We both slowed at the sight of the three armed soldiers guarding it. That seemed like overkill.

‘Excuse me, gentlemen,’ Ver?a said. ‘Can I ask a small favour?’

They eyed her in questioning silence. I couldn’t tell if they were amaurotic or voyant.

‘I know the Forum isn’t open yet, but I was invited to work on the site when I studying at the University of Florence, and I’ve been curious ever since.’ Ver?a sounded as calm as if she was talking to her best friends, not three large men with rifles. ‘Is there any chance I could speak to the site administrator, to ask if my friend and I could have a look inside?’

The soldiers exchanged glances.

‘Okay,’ one of them finally said. ‘Do you have proof of your invitation?’

‘Yes.’ Ver?a withdrew an envelope from her briefcase. ‘It’s signed by Signor Barraco.’

The soldier unfolded the letter. After reading it, he concluded, ‘You may come in, but not her.’

He spoke as if I wasn’t there. Ver?a looked at me, letting me decide what to do, and I gave her a subtle nod. She would have to take charge of this search.

‘All right,’ Ver?a said, turning back to the soldiers. ‘Can my friend wait here?’

The nearest of the guards nodded. He led Ver?a under the archway, while the others stayed at their posts. I sat on a bench in the shade of an orange tree.

Ver?a was gone for a long time. I waited, growing more and more uncomfortable in the heavy warmth. At last, a dark-haired woman emerged from the Forum and came up to the bench.

‘You speak Italian, or English?’

‘English,’ I said.

‘Veronika sent me. She is still waiting for her meeting with the site administrator,’ she said, ‘so she may be a while longer. Would you prefer to wait here or leave?’

‘I’ll wait,’ I said. ‘I could use some water, though. Do you mind?’

‘Of course. Do come through.’

‘Non posso farla entrare,’ the soldier reminded her.

‘Vuole solo bere qualcosa,’ she said. ‘La porterò dentro solo per poco. Smettila di fare lo stronzo.’

‘E va bene.’ He shrugged. ‘Se qualcuno chiede, è entrata di nascosto.’

He stood aside. I followed the woman under the archway, past a limestone wall, which formed one side of a building. She showed me to a drinking fountain.

‘Thank you,’ I said.

‘No problem. It’s hot today,’ she said. ‘Once you’re done, just leave the way you came.’

She walked away. I was going to have to lap at the fountain like a cat, which wasn’t ideal for someone with my debilitating fear of water, but I was parched enough to consider it.

‘Paige,’ a voice whispered. Ver?a was leaning around the corner of the building. ‘They’re letting me see the administrator. Come with me. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.’

‘Couldn’t agree more.’ I went into the building with her. ‘Have you seen much yet?’

‘No. I was in the guardhouse,’ Ver?a said under her breath, ‘but I know this building was once the home of the Vestals, who kept the sacred fire alight. While that fire burned, Rome was said to be protected from its enemies, for the pax deorum – the peace of the gods – was assured.’ She turned a corner, and I followed. ‘The site administrator works in here.’

She led me into a colonnade lined with statues of women. It surrounded a tranquil courtyard, where sunset roses grew and two oblong pools reflected the sky. The walls were pale, while the roof had coral tiles. We headed up a flight of steps, to the second level of the colonnade.

At the end, a man stood outside a doorway, hands in the pockets of his suit jacket. He had smooth russet skin and dark eyes, and a silvered goatee framed his mouth. I hedged a guess that he was in his fifties. A moment later, I recognised him as Rohan Mistry, the former diplomat Arcturus had mentioned. When he saw me, his thick eyebrows furrowed, and he blocked our way.

‘Aspetta un momento,’ he said to me. ‘Tu non puoi stare qui. Come sei entrata?’

‘She’s with me.’ Ver?a linked my arm. ‘We have an interest in the Forum Project, and—’

‘What’s the matter, Rohan?’

The voice came from beyond the doorway. I was sure that had been an Irish accent.

‘Now you’ve done it.’ Mistry heaved a sigh. ‘In you come.’

He escorted us into a whitewashed room. I expected to see Giosuè Barraco, the architect behind the Forum Project, who I had assumed was the site administrator. Instead, two other people stood inside.

And I knew both of them.

One of them was Antoinette Carter, another fugitive from Scion. Like me, she had survived the Imbolc Massacre. I had seen her only once, the night I had been sent to detain her in London.

The other was Jaxon Hall.