28 2
The Buzzer drowned him out with one of those appalling roars. The number of terrified voices tripled, coming from both the crowd and its throat. Carter jammed her fingers into her ears. Anyone who had frozen now ran for their lives. That was one good thing about humans – we knew how to adapt to danger. Nobody had a clue what the Buzzers were or why they were here, but it was clear they were bad news.
I was about to get out when Jaxon stepped into my eyeline, just as the rampaging Buzzer clamped its jaws around a man. He cast Weeping Sukie – one of his poltergeists – towards it, forcing it to drop its prey.
‘Paige,’ Arcturus said, ‘Jaxon could be useful.’
As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Jaxon was the most powerful binder I had ever met.
‘Fucking hell, fine.’ I leaned out of the window. ‘Jaxon!’
He spotted me and strode over, Sukie racing after him. Herne the Hunter – a nasty piece of work, even for a poltergeist – was also at his side. The injured man crawled away from the Buzzer, leaving a trail of blood.
‘Hello, darling.’ He raked a strand of hair out of his eyes. ‘I see you escaped your cell.’
‘Shut up and get in, Jax,’ I said over the din. ‘We can use your ’geists to hold the Buzzers off.’ To my surprise, Jaxon got in without a word of protest, taking the seat beside Mistry. ‘Carter, Ver?a is heading for the Trevi Fountain. She could use your help.’
Carter acknowledged me with a nod. She turned with her archangel, which spread its apport wide, forming an invisible shield between her and the Buzzer. The creature swung for her, but the archangel deflected its claws, the clash radiating through the ?ther. Even now, after seeing it before, I was transfixed by the archangel – a spirit that had loved someone enough to protect their bloodline for as long as it could.
Mistry gripped the steering wheel. Once more, Carter wielded the angel, hurling the Buzzer clean off the bridge, and Mistry floored the accelerator, leaving her behind.
Jaxon glanced over his shoulder. ‘Why in blazes are there Buzzers in Rome?’
‘Scion was ready to punish Sala. They’ve dumped a bunch of starved Rephs here. They’re like catnip to Buzzers in that state,’ I said. ‘Sukie and Herne could help us reach them. Do you have Jean, too?’
‘I have them all.’
I clung to the back of the passenger seat as Mistry sped up again. ‘You were a red-jacket in Oxford. Did you learn anything useful about fighting Buzzers?’
‘I never faced them in Gallows Wood’ – Jaxon stopped when Mistry drove over something that jolted the whole car – ‘but I do recall that spools can be used to distract them. The spirits will try to get away, but force a spool close enough, and the Buzzer may give chase.’
I looked at Arcturus. ‘Is he right?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m always right,’ Jaxon said. ‘Rohan, where exactly are you driving us?’
‘I’m following them,’ Mistry said, his gaze pinned to the Ranthen.
‘Jax,’ I said, ‘where’s Eliza?’
‘She is pursuing Fitzours,’ Jaxon said. ‘Her gift is not for battling Buzzers. Not like ours.’
‘But you sent her after a dreamwalker?’‘She’ll be fine. I left her with Jean.’ Jean the Skinner was ruthless. Eliza would still need to be careful, but she knew how to tail a target unnoticed. The Buzzers were rampaging across Rome. In Oxford, they had attacked in pairs or alone, but now they seemed to be hunting in packs. So far I had counted thirty, but I sensed more of their dreamscapes, like black holes in the ?ther. Their very presence nauseated me.
Mistry was avoiding other cars by the skin of his teeth. He sped after the Rephs, through the winding streets, every corner jolting me between Nick and Arcturus. Somewhere nearby, an explosion sounded. Mistry hit the brakes, and half a building crashed down in front of us, sending up a cloud of dust. The rubble blocked the street.
‘Draghetti must have got the message out,’ Mistry said hoarsely. ‘The city is fighting back.’
‘Good,’ I said.
Seeing our predicament, Pleione backtracked. Mistry reversed and drove after her, to a new street.
On this side of the Tiber, Mistry was proven right. Italian police and soldiers were blockading the main streets, slowing the Buzzers’ onslaught. A few had clearly got the message about the salt, and were pouring it liberally, setting up artillery in the circles. In the distance, I could see a large group of them drilling a Buzzer with machine guns.
‘There weren’t nearly this many in Oxford,’ I said.
‘When cold spots first open, the Emim will flock to the new gateway,’ Arcturus said. ‘Oxford stood for a long time. They continued to be drawn to it, but not in such great numbers.’
‘Fantastic. If we can—’
A crash deafened me before I could finish. A Buzzer had rammed one side of the car, almost rolling us over. Mistry slammed on the brakes again, but the force of the collision had sent the car spinning into a wall, shattering a window.
‘Fuck.’ I reached for the door. ‘Come on, let’s move!’
In unspoken agreement, we made a break for it. The Buzzer flung the empty car like it was nothing more than a toy, and it smashed down on top of a crowd of people. I blocked it out and followed the Rephs’ dreamscapes, leading the others.
There were soldiers on the rooftops, armed with rocket launchers and rifles. Sala had got word out quickly. A few voyants were twitching on the ground, overcome by the coagulation in the ?ther.
I recognised this district. The same place I had walked with Jaxon. He ran alongside me, circled by Sukie and Herne, a sheen on his brow. He had never done legwork in the den, and I doubted he was enjoying it now. I wasn’t faring much better.
Before Paris, I had been good at running. Now my chest was tight, my legs on fire. It took me far too long to realise it was fear, rather than a lack of training, that was making it so hard to breathe. I had expected to go to war against Scion, but not this soon.
Vatican City loomed ahead of us. It looked strange and unearthly in the mist, the sun a clear white circle above it. The Ranthen waited on the edge of the Piazza di San Pietro.
‘The song leads just ahead,’ Pleione told us. ‘What is this building?’
‘The Basilica di San Pietro.’ Mistry gripped his knees, panting. ‘The … bodies are in there?’
‘Apparently.’ I drew my revolver. ‘Sure you still want to help us, Mistry?’
He wiped his brow. ‘Yes.’
A stampede of tourists had scattered all over the square, fleeing four enormous Buzzers. One of them hurled a woman into the Maderno Fountain. Two people tried to save her, only to be driven into the slosh of blood and frothing water, which stained the ground. A man in a striped uniform and old-fashioned armour went for the other Buzzer with a pole weapon I had never seen before, somewhere between axe and spear. He met the same fate.
Pleione headed into the square. Arcturus caught my elbow before I could follow, offering me another two vials. One was full of amaranth, while the other glowed with ectoplasm.
‘To strengthen your gift,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’
I slotted the amaranth into my jacket, then drank some of the ectoplasm, pressing my eyes shut as my gift sharpened. A sickening headache bloomed as I combed the ?ther for Cade, but he was off my radar. Either he was on alysoplasm, or he was out of range.
I could deal with him later. This was more important.
Pleione led us through the slaughter in the square. One of the Buzzers charged towards her, but Terebell stepped between them, severing its head with her blade. I sensed the trapped spirits escaping its dreamscape, fleeing in all directions, as its body crumpled to the ground.
Arcturus brought up the rear of our group. He whirled a few spools together and sent them at the other Buzzers, diverting their attention as we made for the Basilica di San Pietro. So far, he was holding up, but falling well behind the other Ranthen. I waited for him, letting him pass me before I went on, so I could guard his back. I threw nearly all my knives as I ran, trying to distract the Buzzers from the people they were killing.
To my right, a Buzzer stood up on its hind legs, making it about twelve feet tall. I had never seen one of them do that before, and the sight of it froze me. It was like it was remembering its old life as a Reph.
‘Paige,’ Nick roared.
A rocket exploded against the Buzzer, and it fell back, wreathed in smoke. An Italian soldier lowered her launcher. Others rushed in with rifles, opening fire. I snapped out of it and sprinted up the steps after the others.
Mistry hurried between two broad columns, into the cool gloom of the Basilica de San Pietro. I had never set foot in such an immense building. Even the Westminster Archon paled in comparison to this palace of marble and gold. My boots squeaked on its gleaming floor as we ran beneath the arch of the ceiling, towards an ornate wooden canopy. The last few visitors hurried in the other direction, shepherded by guards and tour guides.
One person stood alone. An amaurotic, dressed in red and white. He waited by the canopy, in the weak daylight that came in from an opening in the dome above.
‘Cardinal Rocha.’ Mistry stopped in front of him. ‘You should leave, Your Eminence.’
‘No. This is where I remain, to welcome them back.’ Rocha was gazing up at the dome, his liver-spotted hands clasped in front of him. ‘God has sent his angels to us.’
‘They’re not angels,’ I said.
‘Don’t waste your breath,’ Jaxon said. ‘One cannot reason with this sort of tomfoolery.’
‘Your Eminence, you must get to safety,’ Mistry urged. ‘The Republic of Scion is here. It will not spare men of the cloth. The Holy Father ordered an evacuation.’
‘Beatrice Sala told him to do it. They have all fled, for they are unbelievers. Daniela Goncalves showed the same lack of faith. But I will stay to guard the house,’ Cardinal Rocha said, calm as anything. ‘God has chosen us to host the angels here in Roma, the Eternal City.’
Nick tightened his grip on his gun. ‘Do you work for Grapevine?’
‘I serve the Almighty.’
‘Wait.’ I pointed to the Ranthen. ‘Are these your angels, Cardinal Rocha?’
Catching my intention, Pleione and Errai lifted their masks and drew themselves up to their full height. At once, Cardinal Rocha prostrated himself.
‘ His body was like topaz, his face like lightning ,’ he whispered to the floor. ‘ His eyes like flaming torches, his arms and legs like the gleam of burnished bronze, and his voice like the sound of a multitude .’
‘Our fellow angels told you to lay our fallen here,’ Pleione said. ‘Where are they, priest?’
‘Castor brought them. I let him in, glorious ones. They lie below, in the Cripta dei Monarchi.’ He looked at me through rheumy eyes, drunk on his devotion, a smile on his crinkled face. ‘Do you see the divine fire in them, burning away the unnaturals?’
Mistry turned to me. ‘The Cripta dei Monarchi is beneath the basilica. This way.’
‘Wait. We don’t want to wind up trapped with the Buzzers,’ I said. ‘Is there more than one way out of this Cripta dei Monarchi?’
‘There is a second exit. We just need to—’
‘Incoming,’ Nick barked.
The Buzzers had followed us from outside. There were more of them now. Before I could run, Arcturus swung me on to his back. I held tight as he scaled the wall, climbing up to a ledge, followed by Terebell. Pleione scooped Mistry up, while Errai did the same for Nick. It took me a moment to realise they had all ignored Jaxon and Cardinal Rocha.
‘Jax—’
His name escaped me before I could stop it. Arcturus glanced down, but the Buzzers were too close.
Jaxon dealt us an amused look, took a few steps back and swept his poltergeists in front of him. The Buzzers avoided him and fell on Cardinal Rocha, who let out a cry before they devoured him. I turned away, grasping Arcturus. He kept an iron grip on both the ledge and me.
The Buzzers made a horrific cacophony as they feasted on Cardinal Rocha. Once they had stripped every last thread of flesh and sinew off his bones, they abandoned the skeleton, leaving a pool of blood in their wake, and disappeared through an opening I had missed.
‘Terebell, you disappoint me.’ Jaxon laughed. ‘I expected you to give me a more specific death.’
‘Your gift may be useful, arch-traitor,’ Terebell said, ‘but I will not assist you any more than I must.’
‘I assure you that no assistance is needed.’
He was shrewd enough to know not to insult her. Not while she had that blade.
The Rephs returned to the floor. When Arcturus set me down, I tried not to look at the grisly remains of Cardinal Rocha, but Mistry retched. I grasped his shoulder.
‘You don’t have to go down there,’ I said. ‘There will be even more Buzzers around the cold spot.’
‘No. You … need someone who knows the place.’ He swallowed. ‘Can you hold them off, Paige?’
‘I can. Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’ll go first.’
Mistry nodded. Nick offered him a pistol, which he took. As I prepared to dislocate my spirit, Mistry muttered several names, drawing a few more poltergeists into the vicinity. A summoner couldn’t exert the same ironclad control over the dead as a binder, but the spirits would usually lend them a figurative hand.
As we descended into the gloom, I tried to curb my nerves, memories of France rushing back to me. There was no water down here, but the ?ther was so heavy and thick, I might as well be suffocating. Soon it was like trying to breathe smoke instead of air.
‘This is—’ Mistry braced a hand against the wall. ‘Why does the ?ther feel like this?’
‘It’s the Buzzers.’ I blinked away dark blotches. ‘Some of them do this.’
‘The older ones,’ Pleione said. ‘They taint the ?ther more severely than the newly turned.’
Jaxon kept a watchful eye on Sukie and Herne. The poltergeists strained at the leash, ill at ease.
‘Paige,’ Arcturus said, ‘use the ectoplasm. It will help you resist the corruption.’ I took out the vial. ‘Put it under your nose, and where the blood runs closest to your skin.’
Nick reloaded his gun. ‘The pulse points, you mean?’
‘Yes.’
With a nod, I opened the vial of molten light and dipped a fingertip. I dabbed it on to my skin like a perfume before offering it to the other humans, including Jaxon. The stronger he was, the higher our chances of getting out of here alive. By the time I tucked the vial back into my pocket, all four of us wore luminous war paint.
Arcturus was right. With his blood glowing on my skin, every deep breath clarified the ?ther, calming me. Mistry blinked several times, adjusting to the change in his sixth sense.
At the bottom of the steps, he showed us through an archway and down a corridor. ‘The Cripta dei Monarchi is the newest wing of the Grotte Vaticani,’ he said. ‘It was built after Scion was founded in England, to honour the popes’ long tradition of protecting devout monarchs. Let us hope the bodies are here, not in the Necropolis. That has a different entrance.’
Terebell moved in front of him, holding up her iridescent blade. I stayed close to her, ready to dislocate.
‘They could have put Rephs in the coffins,’ Nick said. ‘Would any of them have been empty?’
‘Yes, they prepare the tombs in advance. Queen Antonia of Spain was due to be laid here,’ Mistry said. ‘I’ve only visited once, on a private tour, but I’m certain I remember—’
A Buzzer appeared before he could finish. In this confined space, it looked even larger, a whirlwind of talons and teeth and unblinking white eyes. Terebell sidestepped out of its way and slashed, but it evaded the blow and dived towards Errai and Arcturus. They both avoided it, just as four more Buzzers stalked into the passage. Without hesitating, I threw out pressure. Mistry flinched away, his nose bleeding, while Nick grimaced. I tried to bend the force away from them, but it was difficult. It radiated from my dreamscape, surrounding me.
The sound of gunfire filled the crypt, followed by claws on a stone floor. Two Buzzers hurtled towards us. Without a word, Jaxon and I slid into the positions we had adopted during the last act of the scrimmage. Back to back, we brought our gifts to bear against the Buzzers – me using my own pressure, Jaxon wielding his poltergeists, creating a wall of powerful apport. When his Buzzer pushed closer, I spun and joined my strength to his, forcing the creature back.
The Buzzer opened its cavernous mouth. At once, Herne the Hunter was sucked towards the black hole in its head. I put three bullets in its throat, hoping to distract it, to no avail.
‘Herne.’ Jaxon clenched his fist, red seeping between his knuckles. ‘Fall back, Richard Herne.’
‘Arcturus, seal any cold spots,’ Terebell ordered. ‘The rest of you, fan out and search the tombs.’
Jaxon was starting to sweat again. No voyant was immune to this clotting in the ?ther.
‘Caterina Sforza io ti invoco,’ Mistry shouted. ‘Ti invoco, Caterina Sforza!’
Another poltergeist was suddenly bouncing around the place like a pinball. My pendant deflected it, knocking it into the Buzzer, which let go of Herne.
‘I’m going to help Arcturus,’ I told Jaxon. ‘Hold any others off at the stairs.’
The Buzzer yanked at Herne again. For once, Jaxon didn’t answer me with some clever quip. He was laser-focused on the Buzzer, trying his level best to reel his poltergeist in. It had taken him a year to capture Herne in Windsor Forest, and he wasn’t about to lose such a prize.
The Rephs spread out across the Cripta dei Monarchi. Mistry scrambled into an alcove, while Nick sent visions at the Buzzers, blinding them, making them clumsy. One of them charged at Terebell, but slammed into a wall. As I hurdled a stone coffin, she threw her sword towards another Buzzer, impaling it before it could bite me. I rounded a corner.
Arcturus had found a cold spot. It shone on the floor between three coffins, casting a strange light on the walls. As he spoke in Gloss, shrank, inch by painful inch.
‘It will be hard to close it while the fallen lie here,’ he told me. ‘But I can stop more coming in.’
I nodded. Arcturus had one entrance covered, while Jaxon had the other.
A Buzzer had chased me from the main vault. Warding it away from Arcturus, I unleashed another torrent of pressure, blood trickling from my nose, my temples aching in protest. The creature let out a nightmarish scream and swung for me with a long arm, almost catching me. I scooted back, hammering it with everything I had. I had never fought them at such close quarters, and it was taking all my concentration, all my training, to stop this one from breaking in.
‘Terebell, get over here!’
She appeared in moments. Just as she took off its head, the Buzzer ripped her coat.
‘Shit.’ I switched off the pressure. ‘Did it get you?’
‘No.’ She inspected her sleeve. ‘We found our fallen. Hold the creatures off while I sequester these last ones.’
Arcturus kept the cold spot shut. I had no idea how he was doing it, but I could feel him sewing the gap in the ?ther, apparently with nothing but willpower and Gloss.
Terebell opened a coffin, revealing a Reph with the dark hair and rosy sarx of her family. Unlike Arcturus, this one had not been chained in place, but lay in repose like a dead human, simply dressed, her gloved hands folded on her midriff. Errai caught up to Terebell.
‘Hatysa,’ he said, eyes burning. Terebell started to lift the Reph out. ‘Wait. Wake her, dreamwalker.’
I looked up at him. ‘What?’
‘You resurrected Arcturus. Why not Hatysa?’
Death itself will work in different ways.
Terebell seemed to waver, cradling her cousin. Errai might have a point. If I could break other Rephs from latency, the Ranthen could replenish their forces.
Nick and Mistry appeared, followed by Jaxon. They gathered around the choke point of the entrance.
‘Paige,’ Nick said, ‘more of them are coming.’
‘Hold them off,’ I said. ‘Terebell, shut me into the coffin. It will protect me while you fight.’
She lifted me without protest. There was just enough room for me to squeeze in beside Hatysa. The lid rasped back into place. Before I could succumb to trepidation, I dreamwalked.
Now I was doubly entombed. In this mausoleum of a mind, all was dark and silent, and there was no golden cord to guide me. Struck blind, I stumbled forward, feeling my way around with no compass. I generally trusted my instincts, but panic was already taking hold, and Reph dreamscapes were cavernous. It was going to take too long to find her spirit.
My body kept on breathing. Through the dense stone of the coffin, I heard the Buzzers baying for my flesh. Every moment I had in here was a moment the others were buying me time.
Hatysa would be in the middle of her dreamscape. When I possessed a host, I always started at the very edge, facing inward. Fighting to stay calm, I ran in a straight line, on and on and on, until her dream-form tripped me. Her unresponsive spirit, left to lie for ever in her mind.
Arcturus and I had touched in his dreamscape. I didn’t want to do the same to a complete stranger – Hatysa would likely hate to know that a human was in her safe place – but I had to try. Reaching down, I gripped her shoulders and willed her to wake, as I had with Arcturus.
‘Hatysa,’ I said. ‘Come back.’ I shook her. ‘Hatysa Sheratan, can you hear me?’
No reply. This time, there was no flood of light, no spark at my fingertips. I was about to try again when my silver cord pulled me back to my own body. Arcturus had lifted the lid.
‘Paige?’
‘It’s not working.’ I grasped his arm and clambered out. ‘I don’t know why.’
‘Try again.’ Errai hauled me away from Arcturus, towards the next coffin. ‘Pollux Chertan.’
‘No,’ Arcturus said. ‘Paige must not overuse her gift, Errai.’
‘I’ll try,’ I rasped, even though my head was in agony. ‘Just keep … the Buzzers away.’
Errai nearly threw me into the second coffin. The Reph in this one had pale hair. Even though it was cut to his chin, he looked so much like Suhail that I forgot how to breathe. Before I could have second thoughts, Errai slammed the lid down.
Pollux was lifeless. He couldn’t hurt me. I closed my eyes. Once again, I pushed out my spirit, overcoming the pain barrier, and my body fell limp in the coffin beside him, though my heart was still beating. I searched the darkness of his dreamscape, and I somehow found his spirit. Once again, no matter how hard I shook Pollux, he refused to wake.
‘Come on,’ I urged. ‘Pollux Chertan, the Ranthen need you. Come back, now.’ My temper frayed. ‘Look, you’ve got a human in your dreamscape. Get up and throw me out!’
Pollux Chertan did not answer.
There was no more time for this. We needed to behead the bodies and get out of dodge. I turned on my heel and sprinted away, taking a running jump into the ?ther, then gasped back to myself. Arcturus spaded me out and set me on the floor, and I heaved for breath, leaning hard on the coffin. Errai looked inside it, then at me, his expression thunderous.
‘He isn’t waking up, either.’ I clamped a hand over my thumping heart. ‘I’m sorry, Errai.’
‘Liar.’ He pinned me to the coffin. ‘Why could you only resurrect Arcturus?’
‘I don’t—’
‘Are you favouring the Mesarthim?’
‘Errai, peace.’ Arcturus grasped his wrist, trying to break his grip on me. ‘Paige has—’
‘Whatever you’re doing,’ Jaxon snarled, ‘do it quickly, you rabble of undying blockheads.’ He was back in a tug of war with a Buzzer. Sukie floundered between them, her panic sending flickers through the ?ther. ‘Or perhaps I should get you some tea while you hold a debate?’
Mistry was fighting to control his poltergeist, speaking to it in Italian, chanting its name between instructions. Caterina was none too happy, but her apport covered the entrance, a thin curtain of rancour that barely held the Buzzers back. It wouldn’t be long before they overwhelmed us. Errai tightened his grip on my arms, hard enough to bruise.
‘I will conceal your filthy secret,’ he said to Arcturus, too low for anyone but us to hear, ‘but not if you reserve the dreamwalker for your own use.’
‘I’m not his to use,’ I said hotly. ‘Or yours.’
‘Then save our warriors!’
‘Enough,’ Terebell said. ‘She has made two attempts, Errai. No more.’
Pleione towed Hatysa out of the coffin, speaking a few words in Gloss before Terebell decapitated her cousin in one blow. The head dropped like a chunk of stone.
Errai released me, a cascade of anguished Gloss escaping him. Arcturus put himself between us, but Errai only cared about Hatysa now. Terebell sequestered Pollux.
When his skull hit the floor, it was as if a bell had tolled. The heavy force in the ?ther lifted. Three of the poltergeists huddled close to Jaxon, while Caterina Sforza took her leave, knocking a candlestick down as she went. The Buzzers slowed, their white eyes roaming.
‘They are locating the next grave,’ Terebell said. ‘We do not have long.’
She took the opportunity to behead the distracted Buzzers. I watched her without flinching. Either I had developed a cast-iron stomach, or the sheer amount of carnage I had witnessed had numbed me in less than an hour.
‘The exit is this way.’ Mistry broke into a weary run. ‘We can take the Passetto di Borgo, a corridor above street level. The College of Cardinals will have used it to leave the Vatican.’
‘Right.’ I swallowed a little blood, skirting around another headless Reph. ‘Pleione, where next?’
‘We must leave the vicinity,’ Pleione said. ‘Every Emite that came to this grave is about to move towards the next. We can follow them.’
Mistry led us out of the Cripta dei Monarchi and through the silent Papal Tombs, which lay undisturbed. I narrowed my eyes against the sudden flood of daylight, reaching for the amaranth in my pocket.
This still wasn’t over.