I’d used a handful of his own white aster to erase his memory as soon as it was done. I didn’t like cowards.

We’d slipped the concoction to Michael. He’d been happy to spike the wine the red-jackets had been given during their pre-Bicentenary feast. If all went well, none of them would be fit to defend themselves.

I looked out of the window. The emissaries had arrived at eight, dressed in their best, escorted by armed Vigiles. These Scion men and women had come to bear witness to a new agreement, the Great Territorial Act. It permitted the Rephaim to establish a control city in Paris, the first one outside England. Sheol II.

Scion would no longer be an empire in embryo. It would be born. It would live.

This was just the beginning. If the Rephaim had all the voyants locked up in penal colonies, there would be no way for the rest of mankind to fight them off. The æther was our only weapon. If nobody could use it, we were sitting ducks. All of us.

But I didn’t care about that tonight. I cared about getting back to Seven Dials. To the corrupt syndicate. To my gang. To Nick. At that moment, it was all I wanted in the world.

The gramophone played on. I sat down at the writing table, looking through the window at the moon. It wasn’t full, but halved. There were no stars.

Liss, Julian, and I had spent the last few weeks spreading seeds of discord through the city, using the safe house as our den. Suhail and the Overseer couldn’t hear us there. Liss was fully recovered from her trauma and, with a new determination to survive, she’d been active in rallying the harlies. She’d still been nervous, but one night she’d cracked. “I can’t live like this anymore,” she’d said. “And I can’t stop you rebelling. Let’s just do it.”

So we did.

Most of the jackets and performers had agreed to help us. Those that had seen Warden heal Liss were more confident. Certain of some Reph support. Over the weeks we’d pooled our supplies and hidden them at designated checkpoints. A few harlies had pickpocketed the whitewashed Duckett, depriving him of matches and Sterno cans. A pair of brave white-jackets had tried to venture into the House, but security had tightened since Kraz had been found dead. No one could get close. Instead we’d had to scavenge. We didn’t have many guns between us, but we didn’t need guns to kill.

Only Julian, Liss, and I knew where the train was. We hadn’t mentioned it to anyone else. Too risky. All the others knew was that there would be a way out. A flare would be used to mark the spot.