The Mime Order

by Samantha Shannon

  I will cut the strings from the limbs of the puppets.

  Above me, the tower pealed out six o’clock.

  I walked up a flight of steps and down a long corridor, where the eyes of granite busts watched from all sides. The paintings melted into waves of dark oil and gold.

  “Wait,” I said.

  My guard stopped at the threshold. Alone, I walked under the archway.

  I will rip the anchor from the heart of London.

  Four figures stood at the other end of the vast gallery. On the far left was Scarlett Burnish. Her hair was the red of the carpet, and a red smile tipped her lips. Not like blood. Too bright, too false. Stage blood.

  On the far right, Gomeisa Sargas towered in his high-collared robes, a chain of woven gold and topaz strung between his shoulders. There was hunger in his stare. In a moment of sheer madness, I had the urge to congratulate him on such an admirably human expression of malice.

  Frank Weaver was beside him, stiff and gaunt as a corpse. It was as if they’d switched species.

  And there she was. Nashira Sargas, blood-sovereign and butcher. Argentate and beautiful. Ravenous and terrible. Standing between humans as if they were equals—as if they were her friends, these mindless mannequins.

  “You have not been summoned, Vigile,” she said. “I hope you have the fugitive, or I will have your eyes put out.”

  Her voice called to me from a dark part of my memory.

  “Hello, Nashira,” I said, in a voice that wasn’t mine. “It’s been a while.”

  To her credit, she didn’t look surprised. Not so much as a flicker of curiosity.

  “Wise of you to come in another’s body, 40,” she said, “but we have no use for an errant spirit in a stranger’s skin.”

  “We were willing to show clemency,” Scarlett Burnish said. She looked exactly as she did on the screen, as though she’d been moulded from polished vinyl, but her tone was cooler. “If you had surrendered yourself to the custody of the Archon in person, we would gladly have freed them all.”

  I stood perfectly still, looking up at the enormous Scion anchor behind the four seats. “Don’t you tell enough lies, Scarlett?”

  She fell silent.

  High on the platform, the Grand Inquisitor, Frank Weaver, said nothing at all. He was no more than a mannequin after all. Nashira walked down the steps, her long black dress spilling behind her.

  “Perhaps I misjudged you after all.” She touched a gloved finger to my host’s cheek. “Have you not the courage to give me your life in exchange for theirs, Underqueen?”

  So she knew.

  “You’ll spare theirs,” I said, “or I’ll take his.”

  In a single movement, the Vigile’s pistol was in my hand and aimed at Frank Weaver’s heart. His body gave the briefest start, but he still made no sound as a red dot hovered on his chest. Scarlett Burnish moved toward him, but I fired the pistol between them. She froze.

  “To prevent London slipping back into human control,” Weaver said, robotic, “I am willing to lay down this mortal life.”

  Gomeisa laughed, a sound like grinding metal. “It seems you were wrong, Nashira. 40 is willing to take a fellow human’s life for her own ends.”

  “I am,” I said. “For all the lives he’s taken in your name.”

  The Sargas made no attempt to shield their Grand Inquisitor. “Even if you topple this pawn where he stands, you will not stop what is coming,” Gomeisa said. “Not if you cleave your mountains and raze your cities. Not if you lay down your life in pursuit of our downfall. Our influence is buried deep in the mortal coil, rooting us like an anchor to this earth.”

  “I’m a dreamwalker, Gomeisa,” I said. “I recognize no anchor to this earth.”

  But I’d lost. They didn’t care if I shot Frank Weaver; all they’d do was find another willing servant.

  I had no leverage.

  “If it helps to ease your guilt”—Gomeisa watched the screen with no emotion—“we were always going to do this, whether you presented yourself or not. These lives will pay for the one of ours that you took in the colony, and even that is not enough for the loss of the blood-heir.”

  Kraz Sargas. The Rephaite I had killed with a bullet and a flower. Scarlett Burnish touched her earpiece.

  “Lower the anchor,” she said.

  On the screen, the Grand Executioner walked to the switch that had murdered so many of my people. As his gloved hand reached toward it, Lotte wrenched her arms from behind her back—someone must have smuggled her a blade—and cut right through the binding on her lips. Blood unfurled from her mouth, but her eyes were sparkling with wild triumph.

  “BLACK MOTH RULES IN LONDON,” she screamed at the camera. “VOYANTS, DO YOU HEAR ME? BLACK MOTH RULES IN—”

  The broadcast cut off. Something small and vital fractured into pieces. I was a live wire, a lit fuse, an exploding star on the verge of supernova. My spirit crested against the inside of my dreamscape, rearing up to meet the storm that gathered in my mind. Iridescent colors framed my vision. They blinded me, like splinters of the sun.

  “This is the fate that will befall them all.” Nashira watched me with that mockery of a smile. “It can end tomorrow if you turn back now.”

  A hollow sound clattered from my host’s throat, something that might have passed for a laugh.

  Voyants, do you hear me?

  “It will end,” I said, “when there are no Rephaim left on this side of the veil. When you rot with the rest of your world. The moths are out of the box, Nashira. Tomorrow, we will be at war.”

  A word that most syndicate voyants would never use. Even gang war didn’t have quite the same weight as that word when it stood alone.

  Do you hear me?

  “War.” Nashira’s face was blank. “You have threatened us with your thieves and thugs before, yet still we have seen nothing. Your threats are empty.” She paced past me with silent footsteps, back to the windows that looked over Westminster Bridge. “I would almost believe that this syndicate of yours did not exist, were it not for the steady stream of voyants we have received from the Unnatural Assembly over the years.”

  Do you hear me?

  “The gray market was never supposed to exist,” the enemy continued, “but I confess, it has had its uses over the years. The voyants we received through that channel were always far more powerful than those that Scion plucked from the street. The Rag and Bone Man has been our ally for many years, along with the Abbess, Haymarket Hector and the Wicked Lady.”

  “Three of those four are dead.” My vision flickered. “Looks like you’ll have to make some new friends.”

  “Oh, I but I have an old one.” Nashira didn’t smile. “A very old ally. One who returned to me at two o’clock this morning, after twenty long years of estrangement. One who does not recognize you as Underqueen, despite your . . . association.” She turned away, looking out of the windows. “Miss Burnish, summon him. 40 ought to meet our mutual friend in person.”

  Scarlett Burnish walked across the room, as swift and poised as she was in the studio, and opened the double doors. A sound echoed through the hallway beyond. The clink of metal against marble.

  And when he arrived, I knew his face.

  Yes, I knew it very well.

  Words, my walker . . . words are everything. Words give wings even to those who have been stamped upon, broken beyond all hope of repair . . .

  No words. No wings.

  Dance and fall.

  Like a puppet. All those years of dancing.

  The doors swung open. I looked up, knowing the mistake I’d made, knowing what a fool I’d been to trust, to care, to let him live.

  “You,” I whispered.

  “Yes.” His hands were gloved in silk. “Me, O my lovely.”

  THE SEVEN ORDERS OF CLAIRVOYANCE

  —According to On The Merits of Unnaturalness—

  Glossary

  The slang used by clairvoyants in The Mime Order is loosely based on words use
d in the criminal underworld of London in the nineteenth century, with some amendments to meaning or usage. Other words have been invented by the author or taken from modern English or transliterated Hebrew.

  Æther: [noun] The spirit realm, accessible by clairvoyants.

  Amaranth: [noun] A flower that grows in the Netherworld. Its essence helps to heal spiritual injuries.

  Amaurotic: [noun or adjective] Non-clairvoyant.

  Bone Season: [noun] The decadal harvest of clairvoyant humans, organ-ised by Scion in order to appease the Rephaim.

  Boundling: [noun] A spirit that obeys a binder.

  Brogue: [noun] An ethnic slur for an Irish person. Generally agreed to have originated from the name for an Irish accent, but may also be a result of an anti-Scion rebellion in Belfast; from “Belfast rogue.”

  Buck cab: [noun] A cab that accepts voyant clients. Many buck cabbies are employed by the syndicate.

  Busking: [noun] Cash-in-hand clairvoyance. Most buskers offer to read fortunes for money. Not permitted within the clairvoyant crime syndicate unless the busker pays the local mime-lord or mime-queen a certain percentage of their earnings.

  Chair-warmer: [noun] A useless, vapid person whose job is to look attractive.

  Charlatanism: [noun] The practice of pretending to be clairvoyant in order to earn money. Strictly forbidden by the Unnatural Assembly.

  Chin music: [noun] Talk nonsense.

  Chol-bird: [noun] A winged sarx-creature. They are companions of the Rephaim and can travel to Earth in spirit form as psychopomps.

  Cookshop: [noun] An establishment that sells hot food to be taken away. Costermonger: [noun] A street vendor. Also called hawker.

  Dream-form: [noun] The form a spirit takes within the confines of a dreamscape.

  Dreamscape: [noun] The interior of the mind, where memories are stored. Split into five zones or “rings” of sanity: sunlight, twilight, midnight, lower midnight, and hadal. Clairvoyants can consciously access their own dreamscapes, while amaurotics may catch glimpses when they sleep.

  Ectoplasm: [noun] Also ecto. Rephaite blood. Chartreuse yellow, luminous and slightly gelatinous. Can be used to open cold spots.

  Emim, the: [noun] [singular Emite] Also Buzzers. The purported enemies of the Rephaim; “the dreaded ones.” Described by Nashira Sargas as carnivorous and bestial, with a taste for human flesh. Their blood can be used to mask the nature of a clairvoyant’s gift.

  Fluxion: [noun] Also flux. A psychotic drug causing pain and disorientation in clairvoyants.

  Glossolalia: [noun] Also Gloss. The language of spirits and Rephaim.

  Among clairvoyant humans, only polyglots can speak it.

  Glym jack: [noun] From glym, meaning “lantern” or “light.” A street bodyguard, rented to protect denizens from unnaturals at night. Identified by a distinctive green light.

  Golden cord: [noun] A link between two spirits. Can be used to call for aid and transmit emotions. Little else is known about it.

  Gutterling: [noun] [a] A homeless person; [b] someone who lives with, and works for, a kidsman. Like buskers and beggars, they are not considered fully fledged members of the syndicate, but may go on to become hirelings when their kidsman releases them from service.

  Hireling: [noun] The lowest class of syndicate voyant, employed to run general errands for the dominant gang in a section. When the mime-lord or mime-queen deems it best, they will be promoted to a higher rank, e.g. kidsman or courier.

  Kidsman: [noun] A class of syndicate voyant. They specialize in training young gutterlings in the arts of the syndicate.

  Meatspace: [noun] The corporeal world; Earth.

  Mime-lord or mime-queen: [noun] A gang leader in the clairvoyant syndicate; a specialist in mime-crime. Generally has a close group of five to ten followers, known as a section’s dominant gang, but maintains overall command over all clairvoyants in one section within a cohort.

  Mollisher: [noun] A clairvoyant associated with a mime-lord or mime-queen, sometimes shortened to “moll.” Usually presumed to be [a] the mime-lord or mime-queen’s lover, and [b] heir to his or her section, though the former may not always be the case. The Underlord’s heir is known as mollisher supreme and is the only mollisher permitted to be a member of the Unnatural Assembly.

  Mort: [noun] Woman. A mildly offensive term.

  Netherworld: [noun] Also known as She’ol or the half-realm, the Netherworld is the original domain of the Rephaim. It acts as a middle ground between Earth and the æther, but has not served its original purpose since the Waning of the Veils, during which it fell into decay.

  Neutral house: [noun] An establishment in which voyants from different sections can gather within a rival section.

  Nightwalker: [noun] One who sells his or her clairvoyant knowledge as part of a sexual bargain. They may work independently or within a group in a night parlor.

  Novembertide: [noun] The annual celebration of Scion London’s official foundation in November 1929.

  Numen: [noun] [plural numa, originally numina] An object or material used by a soothsayer or augur to connect with the æther, e.g. fire, cards, blood.

  Off the cot: [adjective] Insane; reckless.

  Penny dreadful: [noun] An illegal horror story, usually printed on cheap paper and sold for a low price by the Penny Post.

  Penny hangover: [noun] A shelter for the homeless, open in Scion citadels from September to February. Clients are able to sleep on, or “hang over,” a rope placed in front of a bench.

  Penny Post: [noun] Grub Street’s mobile bookshop. Post messengers carry illegal literature around the citadel and sell it to clairvoyants.

  Rainbow ruse: [noun] A situation in which a clairvoyant busker cheats a client, usually by giving vague readings that cover all possible outcomes. Strictly prohibited by the Unnatural Assembly.

  Ranthen, the: [noun] Also known as the scarred ones. An alliance of Rephaim who oppose the rule of the Sargas family and believe in the eventual restoration of the Netherworld.

  Raven: [noun] A member of the Guard Extraordinary. The name originates from the ravens that traditionally lived in the Tower of London in the monarch days.

  Red zone: [noun] The second highest level of security in a Scion citadel, followed only by Martial Law.

  Rephaite: [noun] [plural Rephaim] [a] A biologically immortal, humanoid inhabitant of the Netherworld. Rephaim are known to feed on the aura of clairvoyant humans. [adjective] [b] The state of being a Rephaite; to be Rephaite.

  Rotmonger: [noun] One of the gravest insults in Rephaite culture. It implies a conscious attempt to contribute to the decay of the Netherworld.

  Rottie: [noun or adjective] Amaurotic.

  Saloop: [noun] A hot, starchy drink made from orchid root, seasoned with rosewater or orange blossom.

  Sarx: [noun] The incorruptible flesh of Rephaim and other creatures of the Netherworld (called sarx-beings or sarx-creatures). It has a slightly metallic sheen.

  Séance: [noun] [a] For voyants, a group communion with the æther; [b] for Rephaim, transmitting a message between members of a group via a psychopomp.

  She’ol: [noun] The true name of the Netherworld.

  Silver cord: [noun] A permanent link between the body and the spirit. It allows a person to dwell for many years in one physical form. Particularly important to dreamwalkers, who use the cord to leave their bodies temporarily. The silver cord wears down over the years, and once broken cannot be repaired.

  Spectre: [noun] A manifestation of a person’s fears or anxieties. Spectres dwell in the hadal zone of the dreamscape.

  Star-sovereign: [noun] An outdated term for the leader of the Rephaim. Used during the rule of the Mothallath family, after which it was replaced with blood-sovereign.

  Syndicate: [noun] A criminal organization of clairvoyants, based in the Scion Citadel of London. Active since the early 1960s. Governed by the Underlord and the Unnatural Assembly. Members specialize in mime-crime for financial profit.

  Syndie: [
noun] Member of the clairvoyant crime syndicate.

  Thaumaturge: [noun] Miracle-worker. Used among some voyants to praise someone who is particularly close to the æther, or touched by the zeitgeist.

  Threnody: [noun] A series of words used to banish spirits to the outer darkness, a part of the æther that lies beyond the reach of clairvoyants.

  Underlord or Underqueen: [noun] Head of the Unnatural Assembly and mob boss of the clairvoyant syndicate. Traditionally resides in the Devil’s Acre in I Cohort, Section 1.

  Vigiles: [noun] Also Gillies. Scion’s police force, split into two main divisions: the clairvoyant Night Vigilance Division (NVD) and the amaurotic Sunlight Vigilance Division (SVD).

  Voyant: [noun] Clairvoyant.

  Wisp: [noun] From will o’ the wisp, referring to a spirit that has been bound to a specific person or section of the citadel. The most common kind of drifter.

  Acknowledgments

  This is my love song to the city of London.

  My first and biggest thanks goes to those of you that have finished this book, which probably means you finished The Bone Season as well. Thank you for coming back to this world and these characters.

  Thank you to David Godwin and all the staff at David Godwin Associates for their constant belief in my writing, and for always being a phone call away.

  To Alexa von Hirschberg, thank you for being the most patient and enthusiastic editor I could ask for. To Alexandra Pringle, that formidable mime-queen of Bedford Square, for being such a fierce supporter of my books and an all-round inspiration to me.

  Thank you to Justine Taylor and Lindeth Vasey for hunting down all the devils in the details.

  To everyone at Bloomsbury, especially Amanda Shipp, Anna Bowen, Anurima Roy, Brendan Fredericks, Cassie Marsden, Cristina Gilbert, David Foy, Diya Kar Hazra, George Gibson, Ianthe Cox-Willmott, Isabel Blake, Jennifer Kelaher, Jude Drake, Kate Cubitt, Kathleen Farrar, Laura Keefe, Madeleine Feeny, Marie Coolman, Nancy Miller, Oliver Holden-Rea, Rachel Mannheimer, Sara Mercurio, and Trâm-Anh Doan. These books couldn’t be in better hands.

  To Anna Watkins, Caitlin Ingham, Bethia Thomas, and Katie Bond, who have since moved on to pastures new. It has been such a privilege to work with all of you.