The Mime Order (The Bone Season, #2)

by Samantha Shannon

“Call me whatever you want,” I said. “London is what matters. London and her people.”

All I did was jump, thanking every star that my father had changed my birth name.

YOU WILL BE THEIRS IF YOU ARE NOT MINE—

“She is a dreamwalker. The scrimmage allows for unlimited use of an individual’s clairvoyance.

Whatever the reason behind the pamphlet being doctored, it had worked to my advantage in the end.

“He was selling voyants to Scion,” she said.

And a gun went off, but it wasn’t hers. The bullet hit her just under the ribcage. Two more shots finished her off, one each from Tom the Rhymer and Ognena Maria, head and heart. The Abbess collapsed into the red velvet, dead.

And because our actions will speak loud and clear to Scion, who would never listen to our words . . . ours will be the Mime Order.”

thaumaturge.

The faithful didn’t use thaumaturge lightly. It referred to someone touched by the zeitgeist itself, someone with unprecedented mastery of the æther’s secrets.

someone must have smuggled her a blade—and

“A very old ally. One who returned to me at two o’clock this morning, after twenty long years of estrangement.

lovely.”