The Mime Order (The Bone Season, 2)Audiobook

I

TRAITORS’ GATE

It’s rare that a story begins at the beginning. In the grand scheme of things, I really turned up at the beginning of the end of this one. After all, the story of Scion started centuries before I was born – and human lives, to Rephaim, are as fleeting as a heartbeat.

Some revolutions change the world in a day. Others take decades or centuries or more, and others still never come to fruition. Mine began with a moment and a choice. Mine began with the blooming of a flower in a secret city on the border between worlds.

You’ll have to wait and see how it ends. Welcome back to Scion.

2 September 2059

The train was upholstered in the style of a luxurious parlour. Red carpets, rosewood tables, and the anchor – Scion’s symbol – stitched in gold on every seat. Baroque music drifted from a hidden speaker.

At the end of our carriage, Jaxon sat with his hands folded atop his cane, staring ahead without blinking. Across the aisle, my best friend, Nick Nygård, gripped a metal hoop that hung from the ceiling. After six months away from him, seeing his face was like looking at a memory.

Danica was nearby, hunched at a table, while Nadine and Zeke were in the next carriage. The last of us, Eliza, had stayed behind in London.

I sat apart from them, watching the tunnel rush past. There was a fresh burn on my skin where Danica had disabled the tracking device in my arm.

The events of the night seemed like a hallucination. Somehow, Warden and I had pulled off our ambitious plan to stage a jailbreak from Oxford. He had trained me for the Bicentenary, helping me to hone my gift – all so I could hold my own against Nashira Sargas. I had survived her attempt to execute me in front of the Scion emissaries. Together, we had ruined her grand celebration.

Oxford was burning in my wake, and he was still there.

Run, little dreamer.

The golden cord stretched out between us, linking his spirit to mine. I gave it a tug, but there was no answer. I tried not to imagine why.

Warden could look after himself. For now, I had to think of the people on this train. My head was in agony, even with the scimorphine Nick had given me, but I had no time to rest. This night wasn’t over.

Scion would be waiting for us on the other side, expecting the emissaries. The survivors on this train each carried a historic secret – one that could sink the whole empire. If we didn’t escape, Scion would send us straight back to our prison. That or shoot us on the spot.

‘We need to do a headcount.’ I stood. ‘Nick, where did you board the train?’

‘Whitehall,’ Nick answered. ‘There’s a station right under the Archon.’ Seeing my confusion, he shook his head. ‘We’ll explain later.’

‘What do we do?’

Nick glanced down the train. Even with his ski mask, I could tell he was rattled.

‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘We had a way out, but with this many people—’

Jaxon was making a point of ignoring my existence. I tried not to look at him.

His plan had been for the six of us to escape Oxford. By insisting on bringing the other survivors, I had lowered our chances of survival.

I refused to regret it.

‘There has to be another exit.’ Nick took a deep breath. ‘Any ideas, Dani?’

Danica pressed a cloth to her temple. One of the Vigiles had fetched her a solid blow.

‘The Pentad Line divides in London. One branch has two stations, the first of which is Whitehall. That is no longer an option,’ she said. ‘There is one station on the other branch.’

‘That could be our escape route,’ I said. ‘Where is it?’

‘The Tower of London.’

The odds had always been stacked against us, but this was worse than I could have imagined.

‘Dani,’ I said, ‘are you sure we can’t reach the surface from this tunnel?’

‘The Banqueting House was our access point,’ Danica said, ‘but it’s past the hidden station at Whitehall. If we had kept to the original plan, the six of us could have made it, but this group would be too slow and conspicuous.’ She seemed to think. ‘I could … manually divert the train to the other branch. On a line this old, there should be a lever.’

‘Would Scion notice the diversion?’

‘I don’t know. I’m an engineer, not an Underguard,’ she said, her tone clipped. ‘But if we stop the train early and walk the rest of the way, it may take Scion some time to locate it. The longer we can stall them, the better.’

‘The Tower, then. We’ll try,’ Nick said. ‘Just tell me it’s not impossible, Dani.’

Danica took a while to reply. Her eyes were ringed with bruises.

‘No,’ she concluded. ‘Not impossible.’

I stood. ‘I’ll let the others know.’

‘Find something to set on fire,’ Danica said. ‘If I can’t stop the train, we’ll have to use the smoke alarm.’

I left them to prepare. Jaxon turned his face away when I stopped beside him.

‘Jaxon,’ I said, ‘do you have a lighter?’

‘No,’ came the peevish answer.

‘Fine.’

He definitely had a lighter. I went through the sliding doors to the next carriage, where Nadine and Zeke were leaning on each other, half asleep.

In the carriage after that, a crowd of exhausted faces looked up at me. I had clung on to hope Julian might have boarded the train, but there was no sign of him. Even if he and the other performers survived the night, Nashira would have them all trimmed at the neck by sunrise.

In all likelihood, the rest of us would be dead by then, too. ‘Where are we going, Paige?’ Lotte said. She was still wearing her bloody costume from the masque. ‘Whereabouts in London, I mean?’

‘About that,’ I said. ‘Was anyone awake when they put us on the train to Oxford?’

‘I was,’ a scarred augur said. ‘I used to smoke regal. I’m pretty resistant to flux.’

‘So there is a station at the Tower?’

‘Yeah.’ He paused. ‘That isn’t where we’re going, is it?’

Even as he spoke, the train came to a gradual halt. Danica must have spotted the lever.

‘We don’t have a choice,’ I said. ‘It’s either that or Whitehall, and Scion is expecting the train to arrive there.’

Felix swallowed.

‘The good news,’ I went on, ‘is that we cut their only line of communication with Oxford. If our luck holds, the confusion should give us just enough time to pull this off.’ ‘We’ll die,’ Charles said hoarsely. ‘The Tower is full of elite Vigiles.’

‘They don’t know we’re coming. That means we have a small window of opportunity to escape.’

‘We can make it.’ A performer stood up. ‘Where should we go, Paige?’

‘Head for the back of the train. I’ll meet you there.’

While they helped each other up, I counted them. Not including me and the gang, there were sixty-one survivors. Some of them would barely remember the citadel, or what it was like to live beyond Oxford. All they had done for years was serve and fear the Rephs.

And I had thrown my job away, scotching my best chance to help them find a livelihood in London. Even if I went to Jaxon and grovelled for all I was worth, he would not forgive me lightly for insulting him, or for disobeying his order to leave the other prisoners behind.

In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have told him to get fucked.

I pushed the thought away and sat beside Michael Wren, who was sitting a few seats away from the others.

‘Hey.’ I touched his shoulder. His cheeks were blotched and damp. ‘Michael, are you all right?’

He nodded.

‘We’re going to be okay,’ I said. ‘You know Warden wanted you to leave.’

Another nod. Michael wasn’t quite mute, but he used words sparingly.

‘You don’t have to go back to your parents, I promise. I’ll try to find you a place to live.’ I looked away for a moment. ‘If we make it out alive.’

Michael wiped his face with his sleeve.

‘I wish Gail and Fazal had come,’ I said quietly. ‘Maybe they were scared of leaving what they knew, after so long. I can’t blame them.’

‘Liss,’ Michael whispered.

He reached for my hand. I pressed his fingers, clenching my jaw.

Liss would have wanted me to save as many people as I could. For all our sakes, I couldn’t let her loss sink in.

‘Warden kept a lighter in the Founders Tower,’ I said, using a calm voice. ‘I don’t suppose he gave it to you?’ He dug a hand into his grey tunic and pulled out an engraved silver lighter. I took it. ‘Thank you.’

Also sitting alone was Ivy, the palmist. I pocketed the lighter and sat opposite her.

‘Ivy?’

Her nod was barely visible.

‘You know we can’t take you to a hospital,’ I said, ‘but my friend can help you. He’s a medic.’

Ivy said nothing.

Thuban Sargas had suspected she was in the syndicate. That was part of why he had been torturing her. After a moment, I said, ‘Do you have a gang?’

She looked at me. ‘What?’

‘You broke out of Corpus by picking the lock. Were you in the syndicate?’

‘No.’ Her voice was a wasted husk. ‘I mean, not really. I was … a gutterling.’

‘You’re too old to be a gutterling now.’

‘I just did odd jobs.’

I clasped my hands on the table. Old moons of dirt sat under my fingernails.

All I wanted was to offer Ivy somewhere warm and safe to stay, but Jaxon would never have put up with strangers invading his den, even if I hadn’t just ended our working relationship. Somehow, I would need to find places for everyone, whether in the syndicate or a dosshouse.

‘Is there no one at all you can trust there?’ I asked. ‘A friend, a contact?’

Ivy dug her fingers into her arm, stroking and grasping. After a few moments, she said, ‘Agatha Lamb. She owns a jewellery shop in Camden Market.’

‘What’s it called?’

‘Camden Lockets.’ Blood seeped from her bottom lip. ‘She hasn’t seen me in a while, but I … think she would help me get back on my feet.’

‘I’ll send one or two of the others with you. We’re not leaving anyone on their own.’ I took in her many bruises. ‘I’m sorry we didn’t get you out of Corpus sooner.’

‘You couldn’t have,’ she said. ‘Thuban would never have let me go.’

Her gaze was on the window, far away.

Warden and his allies had stayed to fight for Oxford. I could only hope one of them would destroy Thuban before he came after us for revenge.

The train started to move again. I led Ivy after the others, to the rear compartment, where my gang had gathered up their weapons and supplies.

‘That’s the White Binder,’ someone whispered.

Jaxon stood to one side, grasping his cane. His silence was unnerving.

‘I stopped the train for long enough to divert it,’ Danica told me, ‘but I must have tripped a defence mechanism. It’s locked me out of the controls.’

I flashed the lighter. ‘Just say the word.’

Danica kept an eye on her watch. When she gave me a nod, I snapped the lighter open. Before I could go for the upholstery, Michael tapped my shoulder and offered me his grey tunic.

The uniforms would make us too conspicuous. I placed his tunic on a seat and held the lighter to it. Without a word, some of the other survivors took off their outer layers as well, leaving them in their undershirts. Before long, a pile of tunics and gilets had formed, and the small flame I had set was spreading.

‘Emergency,’ said the voice of Scarlett Burnish. ‘Fire detected in rear compartment.’ There was a drone as the train glided to a halt. ‘Please move towards the nearest exit and alight with caution. A life-preservation team has been dispatched to your location.’

‘They’ll probably be on foot.’ Danica spoke over the murmurs. ‘I doubt Scion has another train waiting.’ ‘Then we have time,’ I said. ‘Let’s get the hell out of here.’

Nick opened the door at the end of the train, which was home to a small platform with a guard rail.

‘Pass a torch,’ I said to Zeke. When he did, I aimed the beam at the ground. ‘Okay. There’s room to walk next to the tracks. Everybody off.’

Keeping a wary eye on the third rail, I let go of the platform and dropped on to the ballast. Zeke started to help the other survivors down.

‘Paige.’ Jos caught up with me. ‘What will happen to the others, like Julian?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said.

‘Warden will protect them, won’t he?’

‘I’m sure he’ll try.’

Jos nodded, but his eyes filled. Julian and Liss had looked out for him in the Rookery. I drew him to my side, and we made our way into the dark.

Our group set off in single file, giving the rails and sleepers a wide berth. My filthy boots crunched through the trackbed.

We pressed on in a tense silence, quickening our pace. Nick stopped to help Ivy, who was so weak I marvelled that she had reached the train at all.

The tunnel was vast and unlit. We had five torches between us, one with a flagging battery. Shivering in my coat, I stayed close to the wall and concentrated on avoiding the tracks, making sure Jos was doing the same.

As soon as Scion found the empty train, they would try to contact Oxford. When that failed, they would alert the support outpost, Winterbrook. We had to be out of here before they caught wind of the rebellion.

At last, our torches lit a platform. I stepped across the rails and pulled myself on to it, my muscles throbbing as I lifted the torch to eye level. The beam cut through the crushing darkness, revealing white stone walls and a rack of folded stretchers – a mirror image of the station on the other end.

At some point, I had been here, though I had no memory of it. The smell of disinfectant lingered. Did the Vigiles bleach their hands once they had dumped us on the train, scared clairvoyance might rub off on them?

So far, there were no guards. A sign was bolted to the wall, with the name of the station written across it in tall white lettering.

TOWER OF LONDON

Beneath the sign was a small tablet. I leaned closer, blowing dust from the embossed letters, which read pentad line. A map showed the five secret stations: Oxford, Winterbrook, Whitehall, Lambeth East, Tower of London.

Nick came to stand beside me.

‘Is this where they sent you?’

‘They keep some voyants in the Tower for years. I was … lucky.’

He laid a hand on my shoulder.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We have to go.’

When I nodded, a gust of tiny spots crossed my vision. I pressed my fingers to my temples.

Warden had given me a few drops of amaranth, which had healed most of the damage to my dreamscape, but a faint sense of malaise hung around my head, and my vision kept faltering. I had never felt so exhausted.

There were two exits. One was a lift, big enough to accommodate several stretchers at a time; the other was a heavy metal door marked fire exit. Nick opened the latter and glanced out.

‘Looks like we’re taking the stairs,’ he said. ‘Anyone know the layout of the Tower?’

‘I do.’ Nell raised her hand. ‘Some of it.’

Nick turned. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Nell.’ She resembled Liss enough to have been her understudy – long black hair, sylphlike build – but her face was made of harder lines, her skin a deeper olive. ‘I was here for three years. If those stairs come up near the elevator doors, we’re going to be right behind the Traitors’ Gate.’

Of course they had sent us through there.

‘It will probably be locked,’ Nell said. ‘They’ll shoot us like fish in a barrel.’

She raked back her curls, baring more of her gaunt face to the light. Her eyes were raw and weary. Liss had been one of her closest friends.

‘I can deal with locks.’ Nadine held up her pouch of picks. ‘And Vigiles.’

‘We’re not dealing with Vigiles.’ Nick looked at the low ceiling. ‘We need to move in small groups. Paige and Bell, we’ll go first. Nell, you’re with us. Binder, Diamond, you stay here and keep an eye on—’

‘I hope very much,’ Jaxon said, ‘that you are not presuming to give me orders, Red Vision.’

In the blur of getting off the train and finding the station, I had scarcely noticed him. He was standing in the shadows, his hand on his cane, straight and bright as a new candle.

After a moment, Nick said, ‘I was asking for your help.’

‘You chose this way,’ Jaxon said coldly. ‘I will stay here until you clear a path.’

‘That’s exactly what I was—’

‘It’s fine,’ I cut in. ‘Diamond, you all right?’

‘Yes,’ Zeke said. One of his hands was clamped over his shoulder, the other wrapped into a white-knuckled fist. ‘Let us know when to move.’

I gave Jaxon a final look before I followed Nell. He returned it with no discernible emotion.

Even after this long night, Nell was quick as a bird. I found myself struggling to keep up, every muscle burning. Our footfalls were too loud, echoing above and below us. Nell slowed down and cracked open another door.

‘All clear,’ she whispered.

I tried to check the æther, but my head throbbed, forcing me to stop. Behind me, Nick took out his syndicate phone and held it to his ear.

‘Eliza parked near Whitehall,’ he murmured to me. ‘I need to tell her we’re here.’

‘Just send her an image,’ I said.

‘I have.’

Only the gang would fit in the car. I would have to stay behind and help the others.

The entrance to the station was opposite the elevator doors. To our right was a wall of enormous bricks, sealed with mortar. To the left, built under a sweeping stone archway, was the Traitors’ Gate – a solemn black construction, used as an entrance during the monarch days. A

flight of stone steps rose beyond it, with a narrow ramp for stretchers.

‘Muse.’ Nick clutched the phone to his ear. ‘Muse, can you hear me?’

He ducked back into the stairwell. ‘Most of the Guard Extraordinary live in the White Tower,’ Nell muttered. ‘They do regular patrols.’

‘How do we get out?’

‘We’ll have to climb over the battlements.’

‘Won’t they be able to see us?’

‘There’s an interior wall between the Traitors’ Gate and the White Tower. That will help us. If we stay low and quiet, we should make it.’

As she spoke, footsteps came up the path by the Traitors’ Gate. We flattened ourselves against the walls, but luck was on our side, and the Vigiles moved on. Nell slid to the ground.

I tried opening the gate, to no avail. The chains were held together with a padlock. Seeing it, Nadine took a tiny flathead screwdriver from her belt. She slid it into the keyhole, then pulled out her picks.

‘This could take a while,’ she said. ‘The pins feel rusty.’

‘We don’t have a while.’

‘Stop distracting me, then.’

I returned to the stairwell. Nick was removing the battery from his phone.

‘Eliza will bring the car to Harp Lane. She’s on her way now,’ he said. ‘Don’t ask me how, but she persuaded Spring-heel’d Jack to help us. He’s sending a group of his best footpads to distract the Vigiles.’

Spring-heel’d Jack was the mime-lord of the next section. He was also completely unhinged, which might be working in our favour.

‘That could save us,’ I said. ‘How long will they be?’

‘Ten minutes.’

‘What about Ognena Maria?’

‘Eliza is trying to contact her. She’ll understand the need to work together here.’

‘You should get the others, then.’

‘Take this.’ He removed something from his backpack. ‘Just in case.’

My revolver, along with its holster. I accepted it.

Nick went down the steps. I stepped back outside, tensing when a light shone through the Traitors’ Gate. Nell drew away from it, her eyes narrowed against the glare.

‘I don’t know if that’s normal,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t remember.’

‘Whitehall would have got the empty train by now.’ I watched the light. ‘Scion might have put the other stations on alert. Bell, how long?’

‘Just shut up and let me concentrate.’

Nadine was working at an awkward angle, given that the padlock was on the other side of the gate, but her hands were steady. I took a slow breath.

‘Paige.’ Nell looked up at me. ‘When we get out, where are we going?’

I thought fast as I buckled on my holster.

‘We should head north,’ I said. ‘There’s an empty building I know in Candlewick. We’ll rest there. In the morning, we can see who has contacts.’

‘I thought you had contacts.’ Nell frowned. ‘Aren’t you a mollisher?’

I couldn’t bring myself to answer.

Somewhere in the citadel, sirens began to drone. I stiffened, readying the revolver.

Zeke emerged from the stairwell with a flock of nervous survivors behind him. I motioned for him to stay where he was.

At the gate, Nadine sprang the padlock. We helped her draw the chains from the bars, careful not to let the links make too much noise. Together, we pushed open the Traitors’ Gate. It scraped against gravel, its hinges groaning with disuse, but the sirens drowned out the sound. Nell stole up the steps and we followed.

The outer wall of the Tower of London was much lower than I had expected. Another flight of steps led up to its battlements. I signalled to Nick and Zeke to bring the others, then went after Nell. When I reached a gap between the battlements, my chest tightened.

There it was. That shatterbelt of metal, glass and lights, all glittering with promise.

London.

After six months of captivity, I was back.

Ahead was a steep bank and a final wall to the Thames. To our left was Tower Bridge. To reach Harp Lane, my gang would need to go right.

‘I’ll go first,’ Nick said. ‘You help the others down.’

I looked over my shoulder, scanning for snipers. There were none to be seen, but I sensed dreamscapes.

Nick squeezed between the battlements and gripped one in each hand, turning to face the wall. His feet sought purchase against the

stone, dislodging small fragments. He shot me a reassuring smile before lowering himself and dropping the last few feet, falling straight into a crouch.

It made me uneasy that a wall now stood between us.

I held out my hands for the first survivor. Michael was there with Nell, both supporting Ivy. I took her by the elbows, guiding her to

the battlements.

‘Up here, Ivy.’ I shucked my coat and buttoned it around her, leaving me in my red dress from the Bicentenary. ‘Give me your hands.’

Between us, Michael and I got her over. Nick reached up for her, lowering her on to the grass.

One by one, the survivors went over the wall. First Ella, then Lotte, then a shaken crystallist and an augur with a broken wrist. Each one stayed close to where they landed, guarded by Nick. As I held out a hand to Michael, Jaxon swept him aside and tossed his cane over the wall. Before he climbed, he leaned down to whisper in my ear.

‘You have one more chance, Paige. Come back to Seven Dials,’ he said, ‘and I will forget your insolence. We can put this night behind us.’

He sounded just like a Reph.

‘Thank you, Jaxon,’ I said, keeping my gaze dead ahead. ‘I’ll think about it.’

Jaxon stepped on to the battlements and was gone. I turned back to Michael.

‘That’s it.’ I took him by the wrists. ‘Almost there, Michael.’

Michael managed to hook a leg over the wall. His fingers dug into my arms.

Nell suddenly gasped. Even in the dark, I could see the bloodstain cutting through her trouser leg. She looked up at me, her eyes wide.

‘Get down,’ I shouted over the sirens. ‘Everybody over the wall, now—’

There was no time for anyone to obey. A torrent of bullets tore through the line of people on the steps.

A piercing scream rang out. Michael slipped between my fingers. I threw myself down behind the balustrade and covered my head with my arms.

Containment would be paramount: kill on sight, don’t ask questions.

If we escaped, so did the secret.

Nick was roaring from below, telling me to move, to jump, but I was paralysed. My perception narrowed until all I could hear was my heart, my shallow breathing, the muffled gunfire. Then hands were grasping me, lifting me over the wall, and I was falling.

The soles of my boots slammed against earth, jarring my legs to the hip, and I pitched forward a few more feet. With a dull

whump and a grunt of pain, someone else landed beside me – Nell, her teeth clenched tight. She dragged herself upright and limped as fast as she could. I crawled in the same direction until Nick pulled my arm around his neck. I twisted away from him.

‘No,’ I heaved out. ‘I can’t leave them—’

‘Paige, come on!’

Nadine had made it over the wall, but the other two were still climbing the battlements. A fresh barrage of gunfire had the survivors running in all directions. Danica and Zeke jumped for their lives.

An amaurotic woman went down, her skull blown open like soft fruit. I sensed the sniper above us, taking aim from the Byward Tower. Michael almost tripped over the body. The sniper set their sights on him.

Warden had trusted me to get the prisoners away. I had failed to keep them all safe, but I could save Michael Wren. With the last drop of strength I had left, I homed in on the sniper and seared right through their dreamscape, sending their spirit into the æther and their body tumbling from their post. As the empty corpse hit the grass, Michael vaulted over the wall to the Thames. I screamed his name, but he was gone, and Nick was pulling me away.

My feet moved faster than my thoughts. The cracks in my dreamscape were straining open.

Nick kept hold of my hand. When my knees buckled, he somehow got me into his arms.

There were the blue streetlamps, the cars. The guns boomed from the keep. We ran and ran until I thought I would die from the pain. And then came the roar of an old engine, and the blinding glare of headlights. Nick bundled me into the front seat, and Eliza Renton was staring at me, hands tight on the wheel. Nadine shouted frantically at her, and she slammed on the accelerator.

And then we were gone into the citadel, like dust into shadow, leaving the sirens to howl in our wake.