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  The Fairy handed it to her.

  She flicked through. Top end forgery ‘Bloody hell. How did you get it done so fast? Who made it?’ He waited. Giving her time to retract the questions? ‘I want to know the truth.’

  ‘Ignorance may be expedient,’ he said.

  ‘The truth. Now.’

  ‘Very well. I acquired this last night. The owner no longer needs it.’

  ‘And you’ve doctored it? Paran, it may fool the scholasticus, but that’s the first thing the Guards look for! The Psych Unit always scan for charms.’

  ‘They won’t find any. The pass is unaltered. The charm’s in the beholder’s eye.’

  He does perception work?! La la la. Not even going to think about this. ‘Um, that’s very impressive, but technically, not legal.’

  He stared.

  ‘Well, it’s psychological fraud, isn’t it? “Invading and distorting another person’s reality”.’

  Still staring.

  ‘Right. Well anyway. Obviously I’m relieved you’ve sorted the ID problem, so I’m prepared to skate over this one. But if you could just bear that in mind in future? That we need to operate within the law?’ She got an urge to knock on his skull and say, Hello? ‘Whose was it?’

  He took the pass back and pocketed it. More staring, but she didn’t back down. He shrugged. ‘As you please. It belonged to one Thwyn Brakstone.’

  ‘What, my Thwyn? But how did he get home without it?’

  ‘He didn’t.’

  Her breath caught. Water tinkled in the fountain. Cherry leaves lay all around, as though some scarlet bird had been plucked by a hawk. This can’t be happening. ‘He’s dead, isn’t he?’ she heard herself say.

  ‘Yes.’

  The hair on her neck crawled. ‘Did you kill him?’

  ‘Not I.’ The Fairy curled his lip. ‘He was fortunate there.’

  ‘Fortunate?’ Her voice echoed round the Cloister.

  ‘Yes indeed. Not to fall into my hands,’ said the Fairy. ‘I would have kept him alive. A day for every day I spent on that ship. “Your” Thwyn was a blood-traitor and a master charm-smith.’

  ‘What are you talking about? He was useless.’

  ‘Not so. You’ve seen Brakstone’s handiwork—those cunning spiked manacles. It seems he tired of his trade. He turned informer, sought Guard protection. But he was double-crossed. The slavers slit his throat. His body lies under the floor of his hovel.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ The world went glassy. She was staring at a picture. In the picture was a fountain, a cherry tree. Egrets. A nondescript Fairy. What had she got caught up in? ‘How do you know all this?’

  ‘Oh, I learnt it from the rivermen. They are careless with their tongues.’

  Another leaf broke from a twig. She watched it drift down. Thwyn. A collaborator. Dead. ‘We should report his murder.’

  He searched her face. Or her mind. ‘I honour your vow to avenge your cousin, but there are swifter and surer ways to punish the rivermen than this.’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘it’s more, I can’t just walk away from a murder. As a citizen of Larridy. Paran, we’ve got to report it. They cut his throat in cold blood!’ The blank stare. ‘Look, maybe he deserved it, but that’s not for us to decide. We can’t go around dishing out vengeance, or we’ll end up back in the dark age. That’s what the courts are for, the whole criminal justice system.’ Hello? ‘Listen, if you’re going to work for me, you’ve got to understand that.’

  ‘This is not your battle. Keep out of it.’

  ‘It’s everyone’s battle, standing up against violence and injustice. My parents died for it.’

  ‘Ah!’ He touched his forehead, bowed. ‘Then of course.’

  Shit. Now he thinks it’s a blood vendetta. But she was too weary to argue any more.

  ‘Are we finished?’ he asked. ‘If so, I will assess the charm-work.’

  ‘Fine. Do that.’

  He slipped away between the arches. A shadow, a movement in the corner of the eye, something you might have imagined.

  Anabara sat on the ledge of the nearest arch and watched the fountain. She was shaking. Freeing him was meant to be a simple act of kindness. What had she unleashed? Another half-remembered image slithered through her mind. Something she’d seen in that moment of deal making. But what was it? Gone again.

  One thing was clear, though: from now on, life was going to be like walking through a busy market with an naked blade in her hand. She’d have to be watchful every second. A careless outburst: I could kill Enobar… Oh dear God in heaven, I can’t live like this. What am I going to do?

  The next thing. You can always do the next thing.

  Which was to report Thwyn’s murder. Obviously the Guards would ask how she knew. Keeping Paran out of this was essential, or she’d end up being prosecuted for illegally liberating an enslaved person. She’d have to claim it was a rumour from her lowlife contacts. Would they buy that? Maybe she’d contact Charlie Rondo. A fellow Gull would accept an anonymous tip-off. Yes, find Charlie—that was what she’d do. She leant her forehead against the stone arch and tried to summon the strength for the next thing: her civic duty.

  But an entirely different thing came to her instead. Striding briskly.

  ‘Ah, there you are. Grandmama’s looking for you, Anabara.’

  Rodania. As usual Anabara felt like a squat yellow poison toad beside her.

  ‘Oh hello, Rodi. Tell her I’m on my way. Couple of things I need to sort out first.’

  ‘No, sorry. I know you’ll just slide off. Come along, please.’ She had the secret passwords of time and space to crack, and here was Anabara being tiresome. ‘She’s worried about you.’

  ‘So what? She always is.’

  ‘More than usual.’ Rodania folded up her tall frame and sank to the ledge. She crossed her ankles. Kept her knees together like a lady should. Anabara felt like poking a big hole in those flawless silk stockings. ‘It’s about this library business,’ her cousin said.

  Aha, so she was being set up. ‘What’s the gossip then?’

  Her cousin leant close and dropped her voice. ‘Basically, it’s the new scholasticus. Trying to save money. He’s paying you a third of what Carraman quoted for the job.’

  ‘What?! He approached Carraman first?’

  ‘Of course. There’s no way anyone expects you to be able to handle this.’

  ‘Thanks!’

  ‘And as to that new associate you’ve acquired—who is he? I saw him skulking about just now. I hope he’s not charging you much, because frankly—’

  ‘Let’s see if he can actually do the charm work, shall we, before we completely write him off?’

  ‘I’m trying to tell you—nobody expects you to do the work! Which is just as well—he’s a only lowbred worker, you can tell by looking. If he says otherwise, he’s lying. Does he have any highbred fire markings? No. Well, there you are then. Look, if you want my opinion—’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘—you’ll bow to the inevitable. Everyone knows there’s got to be a huge fundraising drive to finance proper heritage-standard Fairy artisans. Chapter has kept on leaving it for the next generation and hoping the problem will go away. The new scholasticus has finally grasped the nettle. He needs a report quickly, then he can get on with applying for grants before the deadline. It’s just a hoop he has to jump through, and you’re a lot cheaper than Carramans. Look, I can write it for you, if you like.’

  ‘Write it for me!’ squeaked Anabara. ‘You are unbelievable!’

  ‘Well, whatever. A report’s all the scholasticus wants, if you’d only listen. Nobody expects your company to do any actual restoration. You should have asked for more money, mind you. That’s what Grandmama says, anyway.’

  ‘Thank you for conveying her views.’ She gave a bright smile. ‘Now I can get on with running my business without having to visit her.’

  ‘You’re hopeless. Why do you have to be so prickly the whole time? We’re tryin
g to help.’

  ‘Do I barge into your laboratory and try to help you?’

  Her cousin laughed. ‘Forgive me. But frankly, the thought of you and advanced theoretical psycho-mechanics…’

  ‘Exactly. Ditto you and investigation work.’

  ‘Well, this is getting us nowhere.’ Rodania rose gracefully and smoothed her academic gown. ‘I’ll tell Grandmama you’re busy, but that you’ll call tomorrow. May I say that?’

  ‘No. Butt out.’ An image flashed into her head: Uncle Téador looking grieved. ‘Look, sorry, but I’ve had a rough couple of days. This is turning into a total nightmare. And don’t say “Told you so,” or I may have to…’ Kill you! She closed her eyes. Careful, careful!

  Rodania sat again and laid a hand on her arm. ‘Ana, are you coping with all this? Don’t be cross, I just want to help. If I can, of course.’

  Anabara sagged, allowed herself to relent a little. ‘Thanks. You’ve already helped, actually. Confirmed my suspicions about the whole library deal.’

  ‘Good.’ Rodania beamed. ‘If I hear anything else, I’ll pass it on.’

  Nothing a good Galen girl liked better than to be useful. Must exploit that. ‘I might need to pick your brains about perception charms sometime.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Just something that’s cropped up.’

  ‘Ana, if your Fairy’s claiming he can do perception work, he’s definitely lying. He’d either have to be an elf prince or some kind of elite mind warrior. Honestly, you’ve got to crack down on him, or he’ll—’

  ‘Ta dah! And this is why I never consult you, Rodi-kins. You instantly leap to conclusions and start telling me what to do.’

  ‘Fine!’

  They glared at one another.

  Although dammit, the conclusion she’d leapt to was pretty much correct. Mind warrior? Oh shit.

  ‘Well, anyway,’ sniffed Rodania, ‘if he can do serious perception work he’ll have a paran, which I very much doubt!’

  ‘What?’ The world had gone echoey again.

  ‘A paran—a ceremonial knife. It’s—’

  ‘I know what it is, for feck’s sake.’

  ‘You don’t have to yell at me!’

  ‘Sorry. It’s just, his name’s Paran.’

  Rodania rolled her eyes. ‘Then he’s definitely a charlatan. Oh come on, Ana, that’s a little boy’s fantasy name! Ooh, look at me, I’m Super Assassin! If he was genuine, no way would he call himself that.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’

  ‘Don’t trust him an inch.’

  ‘Believe me, I don’t.’

  A bell tolled. Midday Prayers. Could this get any worse?

  She caught a look on her cousin’s face. One she recognised from girlhood, when they were battling to decide who had the greatest imaginary powers.

  ‘I just get a bit jealous sometimes,’ she muttered.

  ‘Of me!’ said Anabara. ‘No way.’

  ‘Well, I get fed up with being the good girl. You seem to have so much fun.’

  Anabara thought about the last 48 hours. The nightmare out on the salt flats. Her lovely Super Assassin housemate. Not forgetting murder.

  Her pulse kicked up again. It was no good, she had to report it.

  ‘Fun. Not the word I’d use. But thanks.’ She got to her feet. ‘Give me a head start before you let Enobar loose?’

  ‘Oh, I’ll say I couldn’t find you.’

  Anabara wagged a finger. ‘St Pelago will hear you fibbing!’

  ‘He’s heard worse in his time.’

  ‘He surely has.’

  The next thing proved elusive. Charlie was not in the station. Nor was he at any of the usual Guard lunchtime bars. She spent a pointless afternoon tramping the streets of Larridy trying to locate him. By the time dusk was falling she was starting to panic. She’d have to go and take her chances with whoever was on the front desk.

  But a bite to eat wouldn’t go amiss. She was only a few minutes from home.

  And there was the next thing, waiting on her doorstep. Charlie. And another officer. A woman. Tall, man-like. Anabara hadn’t seen her before. Some light-skinned Offcomer.

  ‘Hey, Nan,’ said Charlie. She could see a slick of sweat on his face in the daylamp’s glow. ‘We’d like you to come with us to the station.’

  That was when she spotted the windowless Guard litter. The uniformed bearers in the shadow. Her heart began to race.

  ‘What’s this about?’

  ‘We’ll explain when we’re there, eh.’

  ‘Am I being arrested?’

  ‘Na, ah. Just a couple of questions.’ With every passing second he seemed more agitated. ‘Come on, eh.’

  All the while the strange woman officer stood there, pale and silent.

  ‘Sorry. I know my rights, Charlie.’

  Then the other officer stepped forward. She had a big face, like a reflection in a spoon back. Eyes like sea gooseberries, a nose that had been broken more than once.

  ‘Let me explain about your rights, girly,’ she whispered. ‘We don’t give a shit about them.’

  And she slapped her face. Before Anabara had time to react, the bearers seized her and bundled her into the litter. The door slammed. She heard the charm click into place.

  ‘Nice work.’ A hand smacked the roof and the litter lurched up from the ground. ‘Take her away, boys.’

  CHAPTER 9

  Anabara braced hands and feet against the sides of the litter. Nothing to hang on to. Bastards were giving her a rough ride, too. Careening round corners. Clouting walls. She could smell the piss and fear of previous occupants.

  I can’t believe I let them take me so easily! All very well to say she’d been caught by surprise. How much of her training was intended for exactly that?—the surprise attack. Shameful! But that a Guard should strike her, that a woman should strike her. It felt like a betrayal. And Charlie, a fellow Gull, turning a blind eye. You are toast, Rondo. I’m going to—

  The Fairy flashed into her mind.

  Well, anyway, I’m going to tell your mum.

  And she was going to come out fighting, that was for sure. Bloke-woman was going to get her ugly nose bust one more time.

  Wait. That was what the woman wanted, wasn’t it? An excuse to whack her in the cells for assaulting a Guard. Time to use your brain not your fists. So what was this about?

  It had to be about Thwyn. They’d found his body. Standard procedure would be to question his associates, rule them out of their enquiry. So why the hell were they roughing her up? No!—she was seriously a suspect? Impossible! What evidence did they think they had? But then her pulse began to race. Was someone framing her?

  Suddenly it looked suicidal to report Thwyn’s death. Ignorance may be expedient. She should have listened. Anabara drew a deep breath. Silence was her only option now. No matter what, she must keep her mouth shut until she had her Butros with her. It wasn’t like this was ancient Palatinate Larridy. Bloke-woman was hardly going to make herself a necklace of Anabara’s toenails. Besides, the minute Chief Dhalafan heard of this—

  Douff!

  Anabara lay winded. The bastards had dropped the litter. Slowly her lungs unclenched and the air creaked back in. Yes, she’d heard they did that to tricky customers. Round the back of the Guard Station.

  They left her trapped in the dark stinking box for a long, long time. No way of gauging how long. But finally, footsteps. She heard the charm ratchet back. A hand reached in, seized her and dragged her out. Bloke-woman.

  ‘Oh, are we here already?’ said Anabara. ‘I must have dropped off.’

  ‘Smart arse.’ Grip like a bull crab round her upper arm. Light on her feet for such a big woman. A fighter, then. Probably Boggan wrestling. Anabara was marched on her stiff legs towards a side door. By-passing the front desk. Not good. Down a narrow corridor, blinking in the harsh light. Doors on each side. Barred windows.

  There was Charlie. His lips moved, unlocking a door charm. She was sent
sprawling into a windowless interrogation room. A low stool for her. Two chairs for them. They came in. The door clanged to.

  Charlie helped her up. No prizes for guessing which one was playing Nice Guard tonight.

  ‘You haven’t arrested me,’ she said. ‘You haven’t charged me. I am entitled to send a message, and to have my Counsel present—’

  This time she was ready. Open-palmed cuff round the head, like the Gullmothers dished out.

  ‘You haven’t awested me,’ mimicked the woman in an ickle voice. ‘I’m entitled to thend a methage.’

  ‘Uh, Ma’am, point of information?’ muttered Charlie. ‘She is entitled to…’

  The woman rounded on him. Shriveled his nuts with a single look.

  Suddenly Anabara got it: Ma’am was the mother of all Gullmothers. Charlie was man enough to face down any male authority figure on earth. But he could no more defy Ma’am than pick himself up in a bucket. He shot Anabara a pleading look.

  ‘Get a message to my Grandmother, eh,’ she snarled in Gull.

  ‘What? What did she say?’ demanded the woman.

  ‘Ma’am, she ah, insulted my manhood.’

  ‘Did she now. Insulting an officer of the Guard. We’ll add that to a charge of failure to cooperate with an ongoing investigation, shall we?’

  My God. How anyone could have got to adulthood and not lost that whiny Bogganburg accent was beyond Anabara. Thick as pigshit, that’s how Bog-whackers sounded.

  The woman turned to Charlie. ‘Officer Rondo, run and get a glass of water for Princess Gob-shite.’

  ‘Uh, Ma’am, thing is, there’s supposed to be two of us present at all times during—’

  ‘THAT’S AN ORDER!’

  He saluted. ‘Ma’am!’

  The door shut. Bloke-woman smiled. She had yellow mule’s teeth in her big face. It was like being interrogated by a Wolf Tide jack-o-lantern. ‘Look at that! Just the two of us. Any idea what this is about, gobby?’

  ‘I am entitled to send a message and to have my Counsel present—’

  She reached out and took Anabara’s nose between her knuckles and twisted. ‘Sorry, what was that?’

  Anabara’s eyes watered. Calm. Stay calm. Do not lose your temper.