‘Don’t you dare lay this at my door. I told you it was a bad idea to think we could walk right into the place. You put us into the path of someone dangerous.’ Al was ashen. ‘You weren’t pulling out the bodies.’

‘If anyone’s to blame,’ said James, ‘it’s the man who locked the doors. I don’t think any of you would have let this happen if there was any way you could have stopped it.’

Camille dropped her head into her hands, pinching her temples. The dark seemed to be drawing in, shadows eating up the room. ‘No. I’m not blameless. I should have planned better.’

‘Planned for what exactly? Will you please tell me what’s going on?’

‘I told you, we’re on a job. You don’t need to know the details.’

‘Why not?’ It was Ada who spoke, a flash of anger in her eyes. ‘He’s helped us, risked his life to help us. He should know the truth. He’s your fiancé, isn’t he?’

Camille closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the tightness in her chest.

‘Fine. Don’t make me regret this.’

She ran over the details of their plan and how it had gone wrong, with the rest of the battalion chipping in.

‘Did you get the information you needed?’ James asked when she was done.

‘Yes and no.’ She returned to her cold coffee, thinking over everything that had happened, everything Dorval had said to her as he tried to smash her ribs with his boot. She didn’t know if he’d made it out alive. It seemed impossible that anyone could have survived, and yet James had dragged himself and Guil from the rubble, ghost-white with plaster dust. She could only hope Dorval hadn’t managed the same. ‘Dorval said things don’t end with Olympe. They want the king back on the throne and they think Olympe is the way they can make it happen.’

Al cracked a nut. ‘Shocking. Who would have guessed?’

‘It was more than that. Dorval talked about terror. About showing the Revolutionaries what terror really means. I think they’re planning something. And Olympe is part of their plan.’

‘I won’t do it. I won’t let them use me.’

Camille stroked Olympe’s hair, but the crackling halo shocked her and she drew back. A stormy electric blue glow had spread across Olympe like a second skin.

‘They want to make me hurt people and I won’t. I refuse. I’d rather die than let them take me again.’ A spark jumped from her wrist and caught on the edge of a news-sheet, the paper smouldering. The electric charge rippled wildly around her shaking shoulders.

‘It won’t come to that. I promised, didn’t I?’ Camille tried to reassure her.

But it was too late.