Ink and Bone

At least with hers, it was a cause to blame. Not profits.

‘You can weep about it later,’ Frederick said. ‘For now, get your wits back in your head.’

‘You English,’ Dario said. ‘So sensitive.’

‘We’re a practical lot,’ Frederick said, ‘and you’ll keep your tongue quiet if you want these practical men to get you out alive. Right?’ He cast a sharp look at Wolfe, who nodded without any real expression.

‘Yes,’ Wolfe said. ‘For better or worse, we’re in their hands now.’ He suddenly gave Frederick one of those dark, cool smiles. ‘Don’t ever speak to my postulants again.’

It didn’t take long before the scouts came back and reported the way clear. ‘Then let’s move on. All of you, lose those damned Library colours. Now.’

‘You heard the man,’ Wolfe said. ‘Students. Coats off.’ He was taking off his own Scholar’s robe. That left him in plain black, like the soldiers who were ripping away patches and symbols. ‘Nic. Give them guns.’

‘Real weapons? You sure?’

‘We’re past kinder methods.’

Santi gestured to one of his men, who grabbed a pack and went to each of the students, taking their stu

Morgan’s wet hair was out of its pins and falling in untidy strings across her face and neck. She looked lost.

‘Can she walk, or do I have to risk a man carrying her?’ Frederick asked Jess.

‘I can walk,’ Morgan said, and turned towards Frederick. ‘And I can fight.’

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Do that. And if you want my advice, you’d best put a bullet in your dear old da’s head before you let him near you again.’

‘Nobody asked you,’ Jess said. ‘Piss off. We’re ready to go.’

‘You’re really not, my dear coz,’ Frederick said. ‘Hold onto your knickers. This isn’t the fun part.’

Frederick’s men and Santi’s troops didn’t mix well. After the second scuffle, Santi assigned his forces to the rearguard, while Frederick’s men led the way into an old, nondescript house with a ruined door. Inside, the place was wrecked – ransacked, Jess thought, for anything that would burn – but Frederick’s men weren’t interested in the contents of the place. They pried up a large, square stone in the centre of the room, and beneath were steps heading down.

‘Stay together,’ Frederick told them. ‘It’s a rat’s warren. You get lost, you’ll stay lost, because we’re not turning back for anyone. And for God’s sake, put your guns away; bullets will bounce back on you. If you have to fight, use a knife. And keep it quiet. Sound carries.’

It was claustrophobic on the stairs, and worse once they’d gained the tu

‘Smart girl,’ Frederick said. ‘Now shut it. We’re not the only ones that know about these tu

‘Do the Welsh?’ Wolfe asked. He sounded calm and casual, but the question definitely had weight to it. Frederick gave him a wolf’s grin.

‘Not as of an hour ago,’ he said. ‘But things change.’

They moved quickly and, as required, quietly … at least for a while. It got harder to move around bits of fallen masonry, and seemed like an eternity of dark, narrow tu

The forward motion stopped, and Frederick sent two of his men up a set of narrow stairs off one of the alcoves. They’d made a dozen twists and turns so far, and Frederick hadn’t been consulting any kind of map; he must have learnt this warren, and learnt it well, to be so fast and sure of getting them where he wanted them to be.

But was it safe? It didn’t feel safe.

The scouts came back down and whispered with Frederick, who nodded and turned to Wolfe. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Up you go.’

‘No, you first,’ Santi said. ‘We insist.’

‘Age before beauty, and all that,’ Frederick replied. ‘Up. Now.’

Frederick’s men had drawn weapons. Jess’s pulse began to beat faster, and he found the hilt of the knife in his belt. Close quarters in here. Bad conditions. It would be a slaughterhouse, and the only way out was up … and who knew what waited for them there?

Wolfe broke the tension by saying, ‘Nic. Take us up.’

It was a calculated risk, but staying wasn’t better. Santi gave the Scholar a dark, doubtful glance, but he turned and ordered his soldiers out.

They went without question.

Then it was the students’ turn, with Wolfe, and Jess glanced back at his cousin, who was watching them mount the stairs.

‘If you’ve sold us out—’ he began, but Frederick shook his head.

‘Family loyalty, Jess. I kept my word. There’s a guide up top.’ He gave a sudden, luminous grin. ‘But it’ll cost you later, I promise.’

He gestured his men onward, further down the tu

He followed Thomas up the steps, out into an echoing dark hallway. They extinguished their glows, because ahead was a barred gate, and cloudy, dying daylight.

The gate’s lock had been snapped, and hinges oiled to keep it silent; they stepped through and out into …

A graveyard.

‘Well, this is comforting,’ Dario muttered. He put his knife away and pulled out his gun, which he held pointing down, the way they’d been taught. Only raise it to fire when you’re moving, Santi had told them. Better to shoot yourself in the foot than in the head if you trip. Too much to remember, suddenly. Jess felt clumsy and very, very unprepared for this.

On one side, the graveyard was a sea of silvery grass and swaying trees, random movement muted by the hissing fall of ice. The bitter cold wind cut at Jess’s skin. The gate through which they’d passed turned out to be a tomb, built like a miniature Greek temple, and as they left it they were surrounded on all sides by leaning granite and marble headstones, jutting like broken teeth from the jaw of the ground.

‘We have a problem,’ Thomas said. He sounded grim, and scared. ‘Look.’

They were close, but he was right, the new city’s wall had been built on the borders of this cemetery, and stretched high up. No way over it. You bastard, Frederick, Jess thought. He must have known what he was doing, and he’d lied about it, right to Jess’s face.

‘We have a guide,’ Santi said, and nodded towards the left. Someone was standing at the far edge of the cemetery, waving in their direction – a scarecrow of a woman, thin as a walking corpse. She was wrapped in faded layers of clothes but seemed half the size she should have been, even then. As the Library party approached her, she sniffled and wiped at her dripping nose with dirty hands.

God, she was young. Not much older than Jess himself. He could see that in the fine texture of her skin, the gold of her hair, but war had worn her thin and hollow. ‘Come with me,’ she said. ‘Hurry.’

‘Where are you taking us, girl?’ Wolfe demanded, and she shook free of his grip on her arm and ducked her head, as if to avoid a blow he didn’t give.

‘To the gate,’ she said. ‘Frederick’s taking it, but you’ve got to be quick.’

‘We should have gone with him,’ Dario said. ‘I knew it.’

‘Minute the mob sees you lot, they’ll howl,’ the girl said, and wiped her nose again. ‘Redcoats said any who grab you get extra rations. Which is why Frederick went first. Nobody wants him, so he can get the gate open for you, like. He said move it quick.’