Rephaim are—– creatures. In the—– called—– within—– boundaries of—– able—– limitless periods of time, but—– new form, that—– hunger, uncontrollable and—– energy surrounding the purported—– red flower, the—– sole method—– nature of the—– and only then can—–

I tried yet again to thread the words together, to find some kind of pattern. It wasn’t difficult to link the fragments about hunger and energy, but I couldn’t think of what red flower could mean.

There was something else in the envelope, too. A faded daguerreotype. The date 1842 had been scrawled on the corner. I looked at it for a long time, but I couldn’t make anything out but white smears on black. I tucked the envelope back into my tunic and nibbled on a bit of stale toke. When my eyes grew tired, I blew out the oil lamp and wrapped myself into the fetal position.

My mind was a tangle of loose ends. Warden and his injuries. Pleione bringing him Seb’s blood. David and his interest in my welfare. And Nashira, with her all-seeing eyes.

I forced myself to think only of Warden. I still tasted bile when I thought of Seb’s blood, bottled and labeled, ready for consumption. I hoped they’d taken it when he was still alive, not from his dead body. Then there was Pleione. She had brought him the blood; she must have known he was going to contract necrosis, or at least that he might contract it. She must have arranged to bring him human blood before it was too late. When she’d been delayed, he’d drunk my blood instead. Whatever he was doing, he was doing it in her confidence.

Warden had a secret. So did I. I was hiding my link to the underworld, one that Nashira no doubt wanted to root out. I could live with his silence if he could live with mine.

I traced my bandaged arm. Still the wound refused to heal. To me it was as ugly as the brand. If it scarred, I would never forget the shame and fear I’d felt when I did it. So much like the fear I felt the first time I encountered the spirit world. Fear of what I was. What I could be.

I must have drifted off. A sharp pain in my cheek brought me back to reality.

“Paige!”

Liss was shaking me. My eyes were raw and puffy.

“Paige, what the hell are you doing in here? It’s past dawn. There are bone-grubbers out looking for you.”

I looked up, groggy. “Why?”

“Because the Warden told them to look for you. You were supposed to be at Magdalen an hour ago.”

She was right: the sky was turning gold. Liss pulled me to my feet. “You’re lucky they didn’t find you in here. It’s forbidden.”

“How did you find me?”