'And in cursed poor shape,' the little man was saying. 'They got a b.l.o.o.d.y nose, and then some. They're all kinds of beaten up.'

They were all of them down there: the old man, the fat man, the amba.s.sador woman, but their attention was focused on the other woman, the one who normally seemed so admirably detached. Malius saw, with disapproval, that her creditable reserve had broken down. She had her hands to her mouth, eyes locked on the Fly in some kind of emotion that Malius found uncomfortably overstated.

'I'm not going,' she insisted. 'I'm not going.'

'Praeda ...' the amba.s.sador started, but the other woman shook her head.

'No, I couldn't ... How could he do do this to me? Men!' She rounded on the fat man, for want of another target. 'This is this to me? Men!' She rounded on the fat man, for want of another target. 'This is unfair! unfair! How often I've been wooed by some fool she prodded him in the chest 'by some ignorant oaf, and I've not cared. It's never touched me, before.' How often I've been wooed by some fool she prodded him in the chest 'by some ignorant oaf, and I've not cared. It's never touched me, before.'

'Now, look ...' the fat one started, but she would not be diverted. Leaning on the stone rail of the landing, Malius found himself perversely fascinated. All this bared emotion, it was almost as if he could actually look into their minds. It was as eye-catching as someone throwing a screaming fit in the street.

'And now he comes along,' the woman complained, 'and he ... he was different. I thought: there's something special here. Because he wasn't just some magnate's son, flashing his wealth, some scholar all full of himself, or a merchant adventurer. He was real real. He was genuine. He was honest. And then, the moment he's got my attention, he goes off to war and gets himself killed.'

'You don't know that,' the amba.s.sador protested.

'Trallo, did you see him there?' the grieving woman asked.

The pause the Fly allowed made the answer obvious. 'Not as such, but there were a lot of people about.'

'If he's still alive, he would come here,' the woman insisted.

'He might be thinking exactly the same about you,' the fat man pointed out. 'b.l.o.o.d.y women, honestly.'

'He would would come here,' she said again, sitting down. 'And I will wait for him here. I'll wait all night, if I must.' come here,' she said again, sitting down. 'And I will wait for him here. I'll wait all night, if I must.'

Mad, all of them, was Accius's silent comment. He was ready now for when the house went to bed. The amba.s.sador would get her throat cut, and thus the last tie holding the expedition to Khanaphes would be severed. It's just as well the other woman's lover is dead. We might have had to kill him, then. Or her It's just as well the other woman's lover is dead. We might have had to kill him, then. Or her.

Luck has been scarce recently, Malius thought. We were owed some We were owed some.

She felt the straps taut about her wrists and ankles, falling into that familiar nightmare once again. Che did not need to open her eyes to know where she was: the interrogation room in the Myna palace. It was the room that she had personally witnessed being gutted by the resistance, every implement there destroyed, but in her mind it remained whole and una.s.sailable.

And he did not even use the machines on me, she reflected, half in and half out of the dream. Yet still it haunts me. How quickly would I have broken under torture, had he ordered it? And would they ever have been able to put the pieces of me back together? Yet still it haunts me. How quickly would I have broken under torture, had he ordered it? And would they ever have been able to put the pieces of me back together?

And she opened her eyes, seeing above her the poised arms, the drills and saws and files of an artificer's trade now horribly suborned. The sound of the steam engine was turned up, the noise that Thalric had used to hide his conspiracies. She looked around for him now, for this was not the first time her dreams had dragged her back here.

But it was not Thalric, at the levers. It was a slighter man, in grey robes, and she did not need him to turn around to recognize him. Turn he did, though, regarding her coolly with those white eyes, and she cried out, 'Achaeos!'

'Why do you make me do this?' he asked, his hands hovering over the controls. She was fully in the dream, now, and no escaping. It had all become terribly real in such a short s.p.a.ce of time.

'Let me go!' she begged him, wrenching at the straps. 'Achaeos, let me go!'

'Not this time,' he said. His voice was quiet but she could hear it clearly over the whine of all the drills and the rumble of the steam. 'Che, look at us.'

'Achaeos what is it? Why are you doing this?'

'Because you force me, Che,' he explained.

'Just tell me what you want me to do,' she said quickly, tripping over the words. 'I've tried! I've tried to follow you when you appear to me. I've gone everywhere you led me.'

'You do not understand,' he said. 'You do not understand at all. What do I want, you ask me? What do you think I want?'

'I don't know! Tell me!' she shrilled, for the drill arms were descending jerkily now, under his ministrations.

'What do you you want, Che? Freedom? To be let go? Do you think I would do this if you were not forcing me?' want, Che? Freedom? To be let go? Do you think I would do this if you were not forcing me?'

The wrongness, the discontinuity of the situation, tried to speak to her, but the drill was very close, glittering within her vision, and it took all of her attention. She squirmed and twisted, trying to shift herself from underneath it.

It dropped, and she screamed- And she woke.

The darkness of Khanaphes at night. The cool air from the river. There was no sound of distant battle, or of nocturnal a.s.sault by the Scorpions. The city was not yet under siege. She took a deep breath, still shaking.

I cannot survive many more of those nightmares. And, following from that: What if I do not wake next time, as the drill comes down? What if I do not wake next time, as the drill comes down?

The slightest sound then, and she went cold all over because there was someone in the room with her. She was instantly and absolutely sure of it. Achaeos? Achaeos? she wondered, but the ghost had never announced itself by sounds just a smudge in the air, or the harsh, authoritative voice in her head. she wondered, but the ghost had never announced itself by sounds just a smudge in the air, or the harsh, authoritative voice in her head.

Her Art penetrated the darkness, leaving her with that muted grey clarity that must have been how he he always saw the world. Her heart caught, on seeing the cloaked figure crouching by the window. always saw the world. Her heart caught, on seeing the cloaked figure crouching by the window.

'Oh, you have gone too far now,' she berated him, sitting up. 'Thalric, what ...?' And then her horrified pause as he stared through the darkness, towards her voice because, of course, she had not seen him since matters had fallen foul with the Empire. Which of your flags are you flying tonight, Thalric? Is it the black and the gold once more? Which of your flags are you flying tonight, Thalric? Is it the black and the gold once more?

'If you're here to kill me, you've missed your best chance,' she told him, sounding remarkably calm even to herself. She had a sword within easy reach of the bed, a habit learned from her uncle. He could sting her before her hand reached it, of course. She heard a ragged release of breath.

'I need your help, Che.'

He was not quite looking at her, just vaguely in the direction of the bed. She kept forgetting how the Wasps possessed no Art against the darkness. Seeing him more clearly, he looked as though the intervening days had not been kind to him. His clothes were creased and torn, and he was unshaven, hollow-eyed. He stayed close to the window, one hand reaching out towards the sill, as if ready to jump.

She swung her legs off the bed. In her flimsy nightshirt she would be just a shape in the dark to him, but he still made her feel self-conscious. She pulled on a tunic, telling herself it was against the chill.

'Help?' she asked him. 'Help against what?'

'The Empire,' he said, and she laughed at him. She had not meant to, and she saw his hurt expression, unguarded because he thought she could not see it.

'I'm sorry, Thalric, but-'

'I know,' he said flatly. 'I lose track myself, of whether they want me dead or alive. I certainly lost track this time, but now I know they want me dead. I don't know for what reason, but the orders must come from high up. I need your help, Che, because there's n.o.body else I can turn to.'

She had her sword in her hands now, not to wield but for the comfort it brought her. She padded towards him, seeing his eyes track her approach with difficulty. Little enough of the moonlight got in at her window.

How strange to see him so helpless. He sat himself back on the windowsill, within arm's reach of her a man at the end of his resources but not defeated, never that. He had a wild look to him, the patient Rekef officer cast off for the moment, and she thought, This is how he looked in Myna This is how he looked in Myna a man with nowhere else to go, and all the more dangerous for it. a man with nowhere else to go, and all the more dangerous for it. He will make some other Wasps pay for putting him here again He will make some other Wasps pay for putting him here again, she thought, and it was oddly comforting. So he is on my side again. At least I know So he is on my side again. At least I know.

'What do you need?' she asked. 'If I can help you, I will.'

The sudden smile surprised her. He thought I would cut him loose. And why not? Do I need these complications, when everything else is falling apart? He thought I would cut him loose. And why not? Do I need these complications, when everything else is falling apart? Despite the thought, she knew she would not turn him away. Despite the thought, she knew she would not turn him away.

'Osgan's on the run with me, and he needs medical help. We're holed up in a drinking den. I need ... What I need is just someone who has the freedom of the city, to come and go. Someone to fetch for me and tell me what's going on. Above all, someone I can trust.'

'Major Thalric, are you trying to recruit me?' she asked with a slight smile, then collected her satchel, which held some basic medicines in it. When she turned to him again, his expression surprised her in its thoughtfulness.

'I have just described an agent's work, haven't I?' he said. 'No matter how hard I try, the old instincts just won't leave me alone.' He shrugged. 'Just as well, for I'll need them. Ready?'

She felt an odd leap of excitement at the thought, something she had been missing since the war. But I hated all of that, surely But I hated all of that, surely. She had served as her uncle's agent, therefore plunging into the invisible otherworld of the spymasters. Since the war's end, her life had been better in so many ways, and yet ...

'So long as it doesn't interfere with my duties or endanger other people,' she told him, 'you have my services, Master Thalric.' It seemed a small enough promise to make.

'We should leave now,' he said, 'so I'll show you where Osgan and I are lying low. We can talk there, securely. Shall I meet you downstairs, outside?'

'No need,' she told him. She had her cloak on, now, and sandals, so she was ready to go. 'Lead on.'

He let himself fall backwards out of the window, his wings quickly catching him. She followed, pausing, with a knee on the sill, to look out over the silent city.

She let her wings carry her through the window and into the air, clumsy beside Thalric yet able to follow where he led.

Behind her, in her room, the door was pushed open once the sound of voices had faded. A figure crept in, and found the empty bed. A brief dialogue of puzzlement pa.s.sed between the intruder and his kinsman, before the Vekken stalked over to the window and stared out, baffled and frustrated, at the night.

There was a sudden commotion behind him, somewhere within the building, and Malius's immediate command: Hide! Hide!

It should have been a simple job.

Vollen had gone over the details both with the newcomer Sulvec and with his Rekef commander, the Beetle-kinden Corolly Vastern. This covered the second stage of the Rekef operation in Khanaphes. Although Thalric, maddeningly absent, was still the primary target, they had some Imperial obligations to the force that would appear outside the city's walls soon enough.

Vollen himself had gone off to creep around some of the unoccupied emba.s.sies, enough to satisfy himself that each was built to a similar plan. Mustn't show favouritism to any of the amba.s.sadors Mustn't show favouritism to any of the amba.s.sadors, he supposed. What it meant, in fact, was that his job was that much easier. He had never seen inside the Collegiate emba.s.sy, but now he knew for sure he did not need to.

They had gone over the complement of the Collegiate delegation, so in his mind there was a concise list.

'It's very simple,' Sulvec had explained. 'It is better for the Empire if word does not reach Collegium of what has happened until much later. Certainly not word brought by their own people. Therefore ...' He had made a dismissive gesture with one hand, which had abruptly ended up with it raised and open, facing Vollen. Therefore kill them Therefore kill them.

Sulvec had spared him seven soldiers. The Rekef force inside Khanaphes was not large, but that should be enough.

They burst in through three windows at the front of the building, two of which had not even been shuttered. The sound of the third window's wooden frame giving way was the first warning the Collegiates had of an attack.

'Into all the rooms. Drag everyone out to the main hall,' Vollen snapped at his men, setting himself down beside the front door. He could hear various sounds of confusion from the house, but no outright panic yet. 'Tell them that they'll live so long as they cooperate,' he added. It was not true but it might be effective. He wanted them all rounded up, as peaceably as possible, and the entrance hall was the quickest place for it. His men were already spreading out, some to the downstairs rooms, others heading up the stone steps to the landing and the bedrooms. Once the residents were gathered in one place he could put them up against a wall and make an end of them all together. Vollen was a neat-minded man.

He waited, looking at the blandly ceremonial decorations with which the Khanaphir had adorned the hall. They were different to those in the Imperial emba.s.sy, and yet they might as well have been the same. Their hosts clearly had a taste for the meaninglessly ornate like all those little carvings they put everywhere.

His men were returning now, and he began his count.

The fat man came first, ballooning out his nightshirt and complaining vociferously. He had a half-full bottle in his hands and nearly tumbled down the full length of the stairs, saving himself only by clutching at the soldier who escorted him.

'What in the wastes is going on?' he demanded of Vollen. 'I'm a Master of the College of Collegium, curse you!'

'Shut up,' growled Vollen, and backhanded him into silence. In the ringing echo of the blow the fat man reached up to touch his reddening cheek and there were actual tears in his eyes. His flabby lips phrased words of protest, but no sound emerged. Vollen smiled approvingly.

The others were appearing now. A half-dozen servants had been rounded up by two of his soldiers, young Khanaphir men and women, wide-eyed but docile, being herded like beasts out into the hall. Best to kill them as well Best to kill them as well, Vollen decided. No witnesses, then. Not that this will be any great mystery, but let them wonder about it nonetheless No witnesses, then. Not that this will be any great mystery, but let them wonder about it nonetheless.

The older man and the proud-looking woman were being hustled after them. He wore a loosely belted robe that bared his dark chest, wiry with grey hair, and thin enough for Vollen to have counted his ribs. The woman had obviously succ.u.mbed to the Khanaphir heat, for she was wrapped in a bedsheet and he guessed she was naked beneath. She was a good-looking piece of flesh as well, for one of inferior kinden. For a moment he wished he had more liberty and time to spare on this mission. She would have proved a welcome reward for staunch Imperial service. The Rekef came before personal pleasure, though, and besides, his men would all want a piece. That was bad for discipline, and this was not the Slave Corps, after all.

'Hurry it up,' he hissed, mostly to himself. There was another coming now from upstairs, a black-skinned Antkinden who was fully dressed, even to the now-empty scabbard at his hip. The soldier with him kept a few steps behind, well out of striking distance. Of the lot of them, he was the only one who looked dangerous.

There was a flurry of activity further along the landing. A small figure flitted out and over the rail, landing so close to Vollen that his forehead and Vollen's palm were just an inch from touching.

'Vollen, isn't it?' Trallo began, with a cheerful nod. He was fully dressed, and Vollen guessed he had been flying in and out this night already. They had not expected him to be here.

The Fly was now smiling up at him. 'What's going on?' he asked, looking around the academics and the soldiers.

'Just stand with the others, Fly-kinden,' Vollen told him sharply.

'Now, wait, you know me and Amba.s.sador Thalric ...' The sentence died as Trallo registered Vollen's expression. Vollen saw something click into place in the little man's head, an understanding quicker and deeper than any to be found amongst the Beetles.

He goes first, Vollen decided. If anyone has a chance of escaping, it's him If anyone has a chance of escaping, it's him. 'Keep a stern watch on that one,' he instructed his men.

The last of his force was leaning over the landing rail now, waiting for orders.

'Where are the others?' Vollen demanded of them.

'That's all there are, sir,' one of them reported. 'We've gone through every room.'

That's not right. There was that woman who had met them when they arrived, and most of all there was the amba.s.sador. Something else was niggling at him too, but he could not immediately place it.

'Where's your amba.s.sador?' he demanded of the old man.

'Abed,' was the dignified reply. 'My name is Berjek Gripshod and if you have diplomatic business, at this late hour, I shall a.s.sist you.'

'There's n.o.body else here, sir,' the soldier left on the landing insisted.

Vollen put a hand out to pincer the old man's chin with thumb and forefinger, the heat of his sting already warming his palm. 'Where,' he said again, 'is the amba.s.sador?'

'She was here.' It was the Beetle woman. 'She's been here all day, and I saw her going to bed.'

How did she know? was Vollen's immediate thought, because he understood instantly that the woman Cheerwell had somehow fled the emba.s.sy already, abandoning her companions to their fate. was Vollen's immediate thought, because he understood instantly that the woman Cheerwell had somehow fled the emba.s.sy already, abandoning her companions to their fate.

He had a sudden and unwelcome conviction that she would be somewhere with Thalric. The two of them had seemed too close for Imperial propriety.

'Where is the other woman? The ...'What was the name now? 'Coggen.'

'Dead,' Gripshod explained. 'Some days back.'

Vollen released him, stepping back and levelling his hand. It seemed to him that he had heard something of that, now it was mentioned.

'What is going on?' the old man asked, rubbing at his jaw. 'You must be mad.'

'Vollen, listen to me,' Trallo spoke quickly. 'Vollen, there are other ways than this. There's no war between Collegium and the Empire not yet. Do you really think that this will go unnoticed? Vollen, n.o.body wants these kind of complications, really, when you think about it clearly, come on-'

Vollen turned his open palm on the little man, choking off the words. Fly-kinden loathsome, treacherous vermin, and this one most of all Fly-kinden loathsome, treacherous vermin, and this one most of all.

'Deal with them,' he snarled.

The crossbow bolt took him by surprise, lancing into the back of the man standing nearest to the Vekken prisoner. Vollen's own stingshot went wild as the Fly-kinden ducked desperately away. There was another Vekken on the balcony. There were two of them? Of course there were two of them! There were two of them? Of course there were two of them! So little had been seen of either of the Ants that somehow the two had become one in his mind. The amba.s.sador's had been the absence that Vollen had fixated on. So little had been seen of either of the Ants that somehow the two had become one in his mind. The amba.s.sador's had been the absence that Vollen had fixated on.

The soldier on the balcony turned his sting towards the newcomer, but the Vekken had closed already, and they were sword to sword instantly.