The door lifted, and Burnish returned to the lorry, letting in a flurry of snowflakes. She stood and crossed her arms.
‘Congratulations.’ She smiled at us all. ‘You are now part of the Domino Programme, an espionage network acting within the Republic of Scion. Thanks to your newfound employment, you’re now on your way out of the heartland, into mainland Europe.’
Maria had an impressive bruise on one cheek. ‘Who exactly are you working for, Burnish?’
‘All I’m at liberty to say is that I’m sponsored by a free-world coalition – one that has a vested interest in preventing the expansion of the Republic of Scion.’ Burnish reached into a briefcase. ‘Either you do as I say, Hazurova, or I’ll just shoot you. You know too much already.’
She handed Maria a thin leather dossier.
‘There’s your new identity. You’re going home, to Bulgaria,’ she said. ‘You’ll receive instructions within the next few weeks.’
Maria leafed through the documents, her face tight. The next folder Burnish handed out was mine. ‘I hope your French is up to scratch, Mahoney,’ she said. ‘You and Arcturus are taking a merchant ship to Calais. A contact will meet you there and take you to a safe house in the Scion Citadel of Paris, where the army isn’t stationed.’ She handed me a phone. ‘Take this. Somebody will be in touch.’
Paris. I didn’t know what Burnish’s sponsor wanted from me, but if there was one place in Scion I could have chosen to go next, it was there. Jaxon had told me that was where Sheol II would be constructed, and that meant a new grey market.
I could stop both.
I opened the folder, which was embossed with the seal of the Republic of Scion England. My alias was Flora Blake. I was an English student who had taken a year out for research. My subject of interest was Scion History, specifically the establishment and development of the Scion Citadel of Paris.
At my side, Nick drew his knees closer to his chest. ‘I’m not going with Paige?’
‘I’m afraid not. I’m sending you back to Sweden, where you’ll be of most use to us. You have the language, the local knowledge – and personal experience of how Tj?der runs things there.’
He looked through his dossier with a knitted brow. I gripped his hand.
Warden said, ‘I suppose I am to keep out of sight.’
‘Correct. And you’ll have to think of your own cover story.’ She checked her watch. ‘Right on time.’
One by one, we emerged from the lorry. I looked out at the English Channel, not quite believing that I was heading towards it.
The five of us walked to the seafront, where ships were docking and vehicles were being unloaded. The majority of the ships were ScionIDE property, boasting names like the INS Inquisitor’s Victory and Mary Zettler III. Some of them must have brought the soldiers here from the Isle of Wight. There were merchant vessels, too, freighters that carried heavy cargo between Scion countries and to a small number of neutral free-world states.
‘Burnish.’ I walked alongside her, holding my jacket as close as I could without setting fire to my skin. ‘Will you do me one favour?’
‘Name it.’
‘One of the Bone Season survivors, Ivy Jacob, is somewhere in the system of sewers that the River Fleet runs through. She’s with a woman named Róisín. Can you get them out – subtly, if at all possible?’
After a pause, she said, ‘If she’s a Bone Season witness, I’ll make it my priority.’
It was all I could do for them now.
After eleven years, I was leaving the Republic of Scion England. I had visualised this as a child, when I was in school or trying to sleep; wished on stars that one day, I would climb aboard a ship and sail into a future ripe with possibility. I just hadn’t thought it would happen like this.
Burnish led us into the shadow of a colossal container ship. Letters spelling FLOTTE MARCHANDE – RéPUBLIQUE DE SCION loomed above us.
‘This is yours, Mahoney,’ she said. ‘And yours leaves first.’
I looked up at it with a pounding heart. It was time. Maria gave me a small smile and held out her arms.
‘So this is goodbye, kid.’
‘Yoana,’ I said, embracing her, ‘thank you. For everything.’
‘Don’t thank me, Underqueen. Just tell me something.’ She pulled away slightly and grasped my shoulder. ‘Did you see Vance in there?’
I nodded. ‘If she’s not dead by now, she won’t be getting up for a while, at least.’
Maria’s smile widened. ‘Good. Now go and cause some havoc in Paris, and don’t let all this have been in vain. And if you possibly can,’ she added, ‘try not to get killed before I can see you again.’
‘Likewise.’
She kissed my cheek and went to join Burnish at the next ship. Nick looked at me, and I looked at him.
I felt as if the ground was slanting. As if my centre of gravity was changing.
‘I remember when I first saw you.’ His voice was steady. ‘In a vision of the poppy field. A little girl with blonde curls. That’s how I knew how to find you that day, all those years ago. I remember stitching up your arm after that poltergeist tore it open. How you said you hoped I hadn’t sewn it funny.’
A weak laugh escaped me.
‘I remember,’ I said, ‘missing you every day. Wondering where you’d gone. If you remembered the little girl from the poppy field.’
‘I remember finding you.’
My eyes were misting over. ‘I remember when you told me you loved Zeke, and I thought I would die, because I didn’t think it was possible that anyone could love you more than I did.’ I squeezed his fingers. ‘And I remember realising I couldn’t possibly die, because you were the happiest I’d ever seen you. And I wanted to see you that happy for the rest of my life.’
We had never acknowledged that night out loud. Nick laid his palm against my cheek.
‘I remember you being crowned in the Rose Ring,’ he whispered, and tears spilled on to my cheeks. ‘And I remember realising what a wonderful, courageous woman you’d become. And I felt privileged to have been at your side. And to be your friend. And to have you in my life.’
He was as much a part of me as my own bones, and now he would be gone. I cried as I hadn’t since I was a child. In the shadow of that merchant vessel, we clung to each other like we were ten years younger, the Pale Dreamer and the Red Vision, the last two Seals to break apart.
Warden and I were escorted into the ship by Burnish’s contact from Calais, who showed us into one of the freight containers and promised he would be back once we arrived in France. All too soon, a long blast from the ship’s horn announced that it was leaving Dover. I sat with Warden among the crates and boxes. Waiting. Trying not to think about Nick, and the ship that would carry him far away from me.