Night and day didn’t exist in the Beneath, but the séance had exhausted the Unnatural Assembly. The lights turned off, allowing them to sleep. I had already noticed the division in our ranks. Most of my supporters had clustered on the lower deck, while those who spoke against me were on the upper. All I could do was hope that Glym would be able to unite them.
I sat on the vacant bunk beside Eliza’s, gazing into the blackness. The thought of leaving now, when I was just about holding on to their loyalty, was hard to stomach. Even harder to stomach was the knowledge that Nick, who was asleep or pretending to be, had spent the last few hours in his bunk, ignoring anyone who spoke to him.
His private memory had been used as fuel. As propaganda. His little sister’s murder.
‘You’re going to give me to Styx.’
The voice was hoarse. Light flickered from the end of a torch.
‘I overheard you talking to Wynn.’ Ivy was sitting cross-legged on her bunk. ‘I want to do it.’
Wynn had covered the ‘T’ on her cheek with a square dressing. I didn’t say anything.
‘She doesn’t want to see it, but you know I won’t last long down here. Someone will cut my throat when I’m looking the wrong way. The only reason they haven’t killed me already is because you’ve been here,’ she said. ‘So it has to be me. For all our sakes.’
I breathed in through my nose.
‘If you stay with us,’ I said, ‘then you’ll be killed. But if I send you, Wynn will betray us to Scion.’
‘There is another way.’
The new voice had an Irish accent. Ivy aimed the torch. Róisín Jacob was awake, watching us from her bunk. Her lip had puffed up since the attack.
‘I know the toshers. Used to help them scavenge in our section of the Neckinger,’ she said. ‘I like Styx. And I’m in better shape than Ivy. Send me.’
‘Ro,’ Ivy started.
‘You’re in no fit state to be crawling through tunnels. You’ll give me to Styx,’ she said to me, ‘and Wynn will accept it without question, because I’ll tell her I’m going of my own free will.’
‘They won’t let you. This is my responsibility. It was my crime.’ Ivy’s voice cracked. ‘Besides, Paige needs to punish me, or someone else will.’
There was a pause before Róisín said slowly, ‘They will see you punished. You’ll be officially chosen, and then I’ll offer to go in your stead. But, Ivy, the one person here that Wynn won’t stand to lose again is you. She suffered enough the first time.’
Ivy buried her head in her arms. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, her voice muffled.
‘You need to decide by tomorrow,’ I said. ‘The Glym Lord will announce that he’s stepping in as interim Underlord in my absence. He’ll also announce that Ivy Jacob has been sentenced to a life in the Beneath for her crimes against the syndicate. Róisín, if you’re going, you’ll need to come forward and insist that you take her punishment. And, Ivy, you will act as if seeing Róisín sent in your place is a far higher price to pay than going yourself.’
I had never heard myself sound so callous. Ivy stared at Róisín, then flung me a bitter look.
‘I won’t have to act,’ she said, and turned over.
I dropped my gaze, clenched my jaw. Róisín watched the lump beneath the blanket for a while.
‘She’ll understand,’ she said to me. ‘Wynn, I mean. All she’s ever wanted is for us vile augurs to be able to make our own choices. I’ve made mine.’
She laid her head back on the pillow. I rose from the bunk and walked into the darkness, holding my jacket around myself.
Relief warred against self-disgust. I had been ready to send Ivy. Barely a month of being Underqueen, and I was already becoming someone I didn’t recognise. Someone who would punish a person who was already broken. Someone who would do anything to achieve her aims.
Only a tissue of morality now set me apart from Haymarket Hector.
Warden was waiting for me in a deserted sleeping area. I sat on the opposite bunk and set my torch down on the mattress.
‘You leave for Manchester in four hours,’ he said.
My fingers ran over the bandage on my hand.
‘Lucida will be here by morning. She will ensure the Glym Lord is accepted as your interim, and that no further violence occurs.’ He paused. ‘I make the crossing to the Netherworld at dawn.’
I only nodded in response. The two bunks were so close that our knees almost touched.
Sweat coated my nape. I had thought about these words all day, but couldn’t let them out. I couldn’t even look at him. I would only lose the will to do this.
‘The other night, I made a mistake,’ I said eventually. ‘I should have called the Unnatural Assembly right away, to tell them about Senshield being able to detect the fourth order. So they could hear it from me first. So I could frame it to our advantage.’
My words were too clear in the silence of this place, a silence untouched by the music of the citadel.
‘I could have got there before Weaver. But I let myself be persuaded to wait until morning, because I wanted to see you. I wanted to be with you – to be selfish, just for a few hours. Those hours put Weaver ahead of me.’
His gaze burned on my face.
‘I’m Underqueen, and you’re . . . a distraction I can’t afford.’ It took effort to say this, to believe this. ‘I swore to myself that I would sacrifice everything if it meant I could take down Scion. If it meant that voyants could be free. We can’t let the Mime Order fail, Warden, not after what we’ve been through to get here. We can’t put it in jeopardy.’
It was some time before he said, ‘Say it.’
My face had been hidden behind my hair. Now I lifted it.
‘You said change had a personal cost for all of us.’ I looked him in the eye. ‘You are what change will cost me.’
We sat there for a long time. I wanted to take it back; with difficulty, I stopped myself. It seemed like a lifetime before he spoke again.
‘You need not justify your choices.’
‘I wouldn’t choose it. Not if it wasn’t necessary. If it were different—’ I looked away. ‘But . . . it isn’t.’
He didn’t deny it.
Jaxon had been right about words. They could grant wings, or they could tear them away.
Words were useless now. No matter what I said, how hard I tried to articulate it in a way that he could understand, I would never be able to express to this Rephaite what it would do to me when I surrendered him to the war we had started, or how much I had wanted our stolen hours to continue. I had thought those hours would be my candles, as our days grew darker. Points of light, of fleeting warmth.
‘Perhaps this is for the best,’ Warden said. ‘You already dwell too deep in shadows.’
‘I would have gone into the shadows for you,’ I said. ‘But . . . I can’t allow myself to care about you this much, not when I’m Underqueen. I can’t afford to feel the way I do when I’m with you. We can fight on the same side, but you can’t be my secret. And I can’t be yours.’
When he moved, I thought he was going to leave without saying anything. Then, gently, his hands clasped mine.
If I ever touched him again, he would be wearing gloves. It would be in passing. By mistake.