“Do any of you know anything about the Seven Seals?” When no one replied, Nashira looked at me. “40. You must have been involved in the syndicate. If you were not, you would not have remained hidden in London for as long as you did.” Her eyes played no games. “Tell me what you know.”

I cleared my throat.

“The gangs are very secretive,” I said. “There’s gossip, but—”

“Gossip,” she repeated.

“Rumors,” I clarified. “Hearsay.”

“Elaborate.”

“We all know their false names.”

“And what might those be?”

“The White Binder, the Red Vision, the Black Diamond, the Pale Dreamer, the Martyred Muse, the Chained Fury, and the Silent Bell.”

“I knew most of those names. Not the Pale Dreamer.” Great. “That suggests to me that there is another dreamwalker. Isn’t that a coincidence?” Her fingers tapped the table. “Do you know where they are based?”

I couldn’t deny it. She’d seen my id card.

“Yes,” I said. “In I-4. I work there.”

“Is it not unusual for two dreamwalkers to live so close to one another? Surely they would have employed you, too.”

“They didn’t know. I kept my head down,” I said. “The Dreamer is the mollisher of I-4, the Binder’s protégée. She would have had me killed if she thought she had a rival. The dominant gangs don’t like competition.”

She was toying with me, I was sure of it. Nashira wasn’t stupid. She must have put it all together: the pamphlet, the Pale Dreamer, the Seven Seals working in I-4. She knew exactly who I was.

“If the Pale Dreamer is a dreamwalker, then the White Binder may well be hiding some of the most coveted clairvoyants in the citadel,” she said. “It is rare that we have an opportunity to add such precious jewels to our crown. Your competence on this mission is vital, 40. If anyone is going to recognize the dreamwalker from the Seven Seals, it is another dreamwalker.”

“Yes, blood-sovereign,” I said, my throat tight, “but—why are the Seven Seals meeting at that time?”

“As I said, 40, this is a delicate situation. It seems that a handful of clairvoyants in Ireland are attempting to make contact with the London syndicate. An Irish fugitive named Antoinette Carter is their leader. The Seven Seals will be meeting her.”

So Jax had pulled it out of the bag. I wondered how Antoinette had wormed her way into the citadel. It was nigh-on impossible to cross the Irish Sea. Voyants had tried to leave the country before, mostly heading for America, but few made it. You couldn’t cross the ocean in a dinghy. Even if anyone had succeeded, Scion would never have let us hear of it.