Michael led me to the corner, where velvet drape covered a wide, rectangular object. When he whipped the drape away, I stared. His pride and joy was a computer. Horribly outdated, probably from around 2030—but a computer. A link to the world outside.

“He stole it from Balliol,” Warden said. The shadow of a smile touched his lips. “He was able to restore electricity in this building and establish a connection with Scion’s satellite constellation.”

“Sounds like you’re a bit of a whiz kid, Michael.” I sat in front of the computer. Michael allowed himself a shy smile. “What do you use it for?”

“We do not often risk restoring the electricity, but we did use it to monitor the progress of Bone Season XX.”

“Can I see?”

Michael leaned over my shoulder. He accessed a file marked MAHONEY, PAIGE EVA, 07-MAR-59. Video footage from a helicopter. The camera zoomed in on my face. I sprinted across the rooftops and took a running leap off the edge of the building. The gap looked impossible—I found myself holding my breath—but the girl on the screen made it. There was a shout from the pilot: “Flux her!” I fell fifty feet, and the line caught between my body and the backpack. My unconscious form hung like a stiff. The NVD cameraman laughed, breathless. “Weaver’s whiskers,” he said. “That has got to be the luckiest little bitch I’ve ever seen.”

And that was it.

“Charming,” I said.

Michael patted me on the shoulder.

“We were disappointed when you did not evade them,” Warden said, “though relieved that you survived.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did you invite your friends over to watch the show?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

He stood and paced the basement. “What do you want me to do?” I said.

“I am giving you the option to call for help.” When I looked at him, he said, “Call the Seven Seals.”

“No. Nashira will get them,” I said. “She wants Jaxon. I’m not bringing him anywhere near this place.”

Michael’s face fell. “At least let them know where you are,” Warden said. “In case it all goes awry.”

“In case what goes awry?”

“Your prison break.”

“My prison break.”

“Yes.” Warden turned to face me. “You asked me about the train. On the night of the Bicentenary, it will bring a large group of Scion emissaries from the citadel. It will also take them back to London.”

His words sank in. “We can go home,” I said. The thought was hard to process. “When?”