‘Which leaves us free to help you,’ Nick said. ‘So fill us in. What did you find in Manchester?’
I almost didn’t want to burden him with this, but I couldn’t lie to him. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘Dani was right. They are manufacturing portable scanners.’ I retrieved one of our prizes from the hallway and laid it on the table. ‘Only . . . I don’t think she realised how multi-purpose they’re intended to be.’
Nick slowly rose to his feet.
‘This is—’ He swallowed. ‘But this is a gun. You’re saying this is equipped with Senshield?’
‘It will be, once it’s activated.’
‘Nashira is preparing for war,’ Warden said.
I looked up at the sound of his voice. Nick turned to face him. ‘War with who, exactly?’
‘Clairvoyants.’ Warden cast a detached look over the rifle. ‘This version of the scanner gives Scion a means of slaying unnaturals without risk of collateral damage. If it came to physical combat with the Mime Order, they would be able to fight back without injury to amaurotics. It means they can safely carry out martial law with no danger to “natural” denizens.’
‘So they can keep saying “no safer place” to amaurotics,’ I said, ‘while leaving no safe place for us.’
‘Yes.’
Nick closed his eyes. ‘Do I want to know how you got this, Paige?’
I told them about our search for Senshield in Manchester: my attempt to negotiate with Roberta; my visit to Ancoats; the uneasy agreement with Catrin and Major Arcana; the break-in, and the murder of Emlyn Price. By the time I was finished, my throat hurt from talking.
‘I keep thinking you can’t do anything more dangerous.’ Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘How you got out of that factory alive . . .’
‘Vance will turn her attention to Manchester now,’ Warden said.
‘No. She’ll punish Manchester, but she’ll come here in person,’ I said. ‘She’ll know by now where we’ve gone.’ I held my hands close to the fire. ‘Here’s what I suggest. We seek out the local voyant community, if it still exists, and ask them if they know the location of the depot where these rifles are activated. Even if they don’t, I think it’s a good idea for us to connect with them, so we have people to call on if we need help. Hopefully the séance reached them.’ Nick nodded. ‘Once we’ve found—’
‘Nick.’
Maria was in the doorway. There was none of the usual good humour in her expression.
‘A word,’ she said.
With a slight frown, he followed her. When I heard their footsteps upstairs, I faced the two Rephaim.
‘Be honest,’ I said. ‘Do you think Adhara is likely to join us?’
‘If she sees a reason to,’ Warden said.
His tone implied that she didn’t see one yet. That she wasn’t willing to throw her lot in with mine. I couldn’t really blame her; apart from leading the revolt in the colony, all I had done so far was take control of the syndicate and start its transformation into an army of disgruntled criminals. I could claim no significant victories against Scion. My shoulders dropping, I turned and went to find a room.
Upstairs, I deposited the scanner-guns on a bed. Their weight sent up a cloud of dust. Two burner phones and a charger waited on the windowsill, presumably donated by whoever owned the safe house.
‘Paige.’
Nick stepped into the doorway, wiping his hands on a cloth. As soon as I saw his face, I knew something was very wrong.
‘Tom,’ I said.
‘He’s dying, sweetheart.’
The cloth was bloody.
‘He can’t be,’ I murmured. ‘How?’
‘You couldn’t have known. Tom made sure of it,’ he said. ‘He took a bullet when you left the loading bay. He’s been bleeding internally for hours . . . I’m amazed he’s lasted this long.’
‘He was holding the door open for us. That must be when—’ I released an unsteady breath. ‘Can I see him?’
‘He asked for you.’
He led me across the landing to another door. The ?ther was gaping open beyond.
Inside the little room, Maria was hunched in a chair, her head cradled in her hands. Tom lay in a bed that was far too small for him, his hat on the nightstand, his shirt peeled open. He already had a corpse’s pallor. His broad chest was stained by plum-coloured bruising, the blood bundled beneath his left pectoral. His eyelids cracked open.
‘Underqueen.’
‘Tom.’ I sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘Because he’s a stubborn old fool,’ Maria said thickly.
‘Aye, and proud.’ His words tripped into a wheezing breath. Maria almost bowled over the jug as she rushed to pour him water. ‘I didna want to slow you down, Paige . . . and I wanted to see Scotland again, one last time.’
I stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. Perhaps I would have stayed quiet, too, if I’d thought I might see Ireland.
‘I worked as a mule scavenger in Glasgow in my younger days, before I went south. I saw what Scion would do for their metal.’ His chest rose and fell unevenly. ‘I just . . . couldna bear to see it still happening, all these decades later. It had to end. It all has to end.’
Maria tipped the water to his lips. Tom took a little and leaned back into the pillows.
‘Paige, I dinna want you to watch me snuff it, but I have a last favour to ask of you,’ he said. His face creased into something like a smile. ‘Just a small one. Bring Scion down.’
‘I will,’ I said quietly. ‘I won’t stop. One day, they’ll call this country by its name again.’
He managed to lift a big hand to my cheek. ‘That’s brave talk, but I can see in your eyes that you’re doubting yourself. There’s a reason we accepted you as Underqueen, and there’s a reason the anchor’s been trying so hard to find you. They know they canna control someone with a flame like yours. Don’t ever let them put it out.’
I pressed his hand.
‘Never,’ I said.
With Tom’s death, I lost one of my most faithful commanders. One of the few truly honest people in the syndicate.
We had no time to mourn for him. No hours left to absorb his passing. I stood with Maria outside the safe house while she lit her first roll of aster in days. A ten-minute smoke was the only grace period I could allow her before we had to get back to the streets, to our task.
‘He was a good man. A gentle soul.’ Rain seeped down her face. ‘So it begins again. I lost so many friends during the Balkan Risings. At least Tom knew what we were really fighting. The Rephaim.’
I still knew so little of that invasion. Maria tilted her head into the rain.
‘In 2039,’ she said, ‘they marched through Greece. Then, in 2040, they came for us.’