Read Online Bone Season 01: The Bone Season: A Novel by Samantha Shannon - Free Book Online Page B

stopped and waited.
    Everyone was looking at me. My head spun. I saw red, then white. I walked out after him.
    The first stain of dawn had touched the spires. The voyants came out after their keepers, three or four to each group. I was the only one with an individual keeper.
    Arcturus came to stand beside me. Too close. My back stiffened.
    “You should know that we sleep by day here.”
    I said nothing.
    “You should also know that it is not my custom to take tenants.” What a nice word for prisoners . “If you pass your tests, you will live with me on a permanent basis. If you do not, I will be forced to evict you. And the streets here are not kind.”
    I still said nothing. I knew that streets weren’t kind. They couldn’t be much worse than they were in London.
    “You are not mute,” he said. “Speak.”
    “I didn’t know I was allowed to speak without permission.”
    “I will allow you that privilege.”
    “There’s nothing to say.”
    Arcturus examined me. His eyes held a dead heat.
    “We are stationed at the Residence of Magdalen.” He turned his back from the dawn. “I take it you are strong enough to walk, girl?”
    “I can walk,” I said.
    “Good.”
     
    So we walked. We walked out of the building and onto the street, where the sinister performance had come to an end. I spotted the contortionist near the stage, feeding her silks into a bag. She met my eyes, then looked away. She had the delicate aura of a cartomancer. And the bruises of a prisoner.
    Magdalen was a magnificent building. It was from a different age, a different world. It had a chapel and bell towers and high glass windows that burned with the ferocious light of torches. A bell clanged out five chimes as we approached and went through a small door. A boy in a red tunic bowed when we passed a series of cloisters. I followed Arcturus into the gloom. He went up a winding stone staircase and stopped before a heavy door, which he unlocked with a small brass key. “In here,” he said to me. “This will be your new home. The Founder’s Tower.”
    I looked into my prison.
    Behind the door was a large rectangular room. The furnishings were nothing short of opulent. The walls were white, devoid of clutter. All that hung on them was a crest, topped with three flowers, with a black-and-white pattern beneath them. A slanted chessboard. Heavy red curtains fell on either side of the windows, which looked out over courtyards. Two armchairs faced a magnificent wood-burning fireplace, and a red daybed sat in the corner, piled with silk cushions. Beside it, a grandfather clock stood against the wall. A gramophone played “Gloomy Sunday” from a dark wood writing table, and there was an elegant nightstand beside the lavish four-poster bed. Beneath my feet was a richly patterned carpet.
    Arcturus locked the door. I watched him tuck the key away. “I have little knowledge of humans. You may have to remind me of your needs.” He tapped his finger on the table. “In here are medicinal substances. You are to take one of each pill every night.”
    I didn’t speak, but I skimmed his dreamscape. Ancient and strange, indurated by time. A magic lantern in the æther.
    The stranger in I-4 had most definitely been one of them.
    I sensed his eyes reading beyond my face, studying my aura, trying to work out what he’d saddled himself with. Or what buried treasure he’d uncovered. The thought brought on another surge of hatred.
    “Look at me.”
    It was an order. I raised my chin, met his gaze. I’d be damned if I let him see the fear he stirred in me.
    “You do not have the spirit sight,” he observed. “That will be a disadvantage here. Unless you have some means of compensating, of course. Perhaps a stronger sixth sense.”
    I didn’t answer. It had always been my dream to be at least half-sighted, but I remained spirit-blind. I couldn’t see the æther’s little lights; I could only ever sense them. Jaxon had never thought it a weakness.
    “Do