The Temporal Void

Inigo's Eleventh Dream

At night Makkathran's grandiose rooftops shimmered like moire silk as gentle nebula-light burned through the skies above them. Amid that soft sheen, the streets themselves were sharp orange threads of radiance forming an intricate filigree across the circular metropolis poised beside the sea. Floating high above the crystal walls it was possible to see a new radiance complementing the city's nocturnal lustre. If you knew how to look.

Far, far down at the limit of perception the faint light was just available. Small wisps of darkling iridescence emerging from the apex of buildings into the balmy night air. They trailed gauzy tails as they drifted upwards. It was as though Makkathran was exhaling a phosphorescent rain into the heavens.

The souls of the dead called out in joy and wonder as they began their flight into the awesome abyss of night. He could hear their voices as they passed him; the relief at being free of the body, of pain and misery, the regret for those they left behind, the thrill at the song which summoned them ever upwards They called out to each other, eager to share the adventure of their newfound freedom. Some formed packs, twisting together into brighter nimbi to soar above the clouds in an exuberant celebration of liberty, others remained alone, revelling in their independence.

Occasionally, as he cast his sorrowful gaze downwards, he could see some souls linger. Distraught at their death, they yearned to remain among their loved ones. Unseen, unheard, the frail spectres grew wretched and dissolute as those they adored above all remained ignorant of their presence; the single comfort of knowing lost to false hope. Their grief was overwhelming, threatening to drown him if he immersed himself among them for any time. So he looked up again, at those who cast themselves longingly into the sky, wishing beyond reason that he could catch the faintest hint of the song sung from the heart of this universe. If he just strained, reached out…

Edeard woke with a start, sitting up in bed, his skin slick with sweat, heart pounding, gulping for breath.

Beside him, Kristabel rose to put her arms around him. 'It's all right my love, she cooed. 'Just a dream.

'Every night, he moaned, for that was what he'd dreamed or been shown since his fall from the Eyrie tower. 'Will this plague ever leave me? I'd willingly rejoin my old dreams in exchange for this curse.

'Old dreams? Kristabel ordered the ceiling to brighten. Perfect white light revealed the maisonette around them.

The sight of it, the normality, immediately made Edeard feel foolish. 'I'm sorry. I always had dreams. But these!

'The souls again?

'Yes, he said weakly. 'I see them rising, and I can't hear the song they're following. So I try and listen, and… He shook his head in annoyance. 'Sorry.

'Stop apologising. I'm just worried for you, that's all.

'I'll be all right, he flopped down, and glanced at the narrow window. 'What time is it?

'Hours before dawn.

'Huh! It might not be a dream then. I always visualize the city at night.

Kristabel rolled on to her side, where she gave him a concerned look. 'Can you farsight any souls right now?

'Not sure. He closed his eyes, and stretched out his farsight. The dark shadows of city buildings slipped through his perception, fizzing with the sparkle of slumbering minds. Makkathran's all-encompassing thoughts were easy to discern, pervading the structure of everything, but strongest beneath the streets and canals, down amid the levels where pipes and tunnels and strange threads of energy wove around each other. They were faint, elusive even, but tangible enough. Of the souls which he knew must be there, he could find no trace. 'Nothing, he said in defeat.

'It's not a contest. You haven't lost anything.

'But I've sensed them twice. Edeard stopped to think. 'I was close to the body each time, very close.

'What are you saying? You want to go to a hospice?

'No, he lied.

Kristabel gave him a suspicious glance. 'Humm.

'I wonder if I should see the Pythia again. He didn't like the idea. Their last meeting hadn't been particularly pleasant for him. During the gentle questioning that had gone on for what seemed like hours, he'd felt awkward and defensive. The authority she possessed made him feel like a small child who'd committed some transgression then been hauled up before a loving but stern parent.

'What would she be able to teach you? Kristabel asked, with more than a touch of scorn.

'Nothing, I suppose. After that unsatisfactory meeting, he'd carefully read the Lady's scriptures again. It was the first time he'd read them properly since Sunday lessons at the Ashwell Church with Mother Lorellan. All he'd ever done then was learn passages by rote, never knowing their meaning.

Re-reading the scriptures was something of a revelation. They were hardly a religious text, rather an imprecise diary written in a very flowery prose, followed by what amounted to her thoughts on how to lead a better, more fulfilling life. Only the Skylords bound the two sections together. Vast airborne creatures who sailed sedately between Querencia and the nebulas; a migration whose purpose was unknown, but served to guide human souls to the Heart. However, according to the Lady, only souls that had achieved what she termed 'fulfilment' would be taken.

Reading through her homilies, he couldn't help but think of an elderly spinster aunt telling her relatives about how to be a good family. Be polite, be nice, be considerate, be charitable. Or maybe life was just very different back then — though he suspected not, judging by the diary part. At least that was interesting, though it only began as Rah caught his first glimpse of Makkathran from the mountains. All the Lady ever said of the ship that brought them to this universe was that Rah was leading people away from the turmoil which followed their landing. Beyond that, the past was never mentioned. She was admiring of Rah's perseverance as he broke through the crystal wall, making the three city gates. The wonder they all experienced that first time they sailed into the port seeing a fully built, yet deserted, city where they could make their home. How, as they floated along Great Major Canal that day, a Skylord was soaring above the towers in Eyrie. How it agreed to guide the soul of a dying friend to the Heart which lay beyond Odin's Sea.

The Lady went on to describe the founding of the city Councils, and the emergence of the Guilds, and how other refugees from the fallen ships sought them out, while others remained outside the walls and grew jealous. The petty and bitter disputes between city and country over whose law should prevail She never saw the end of those quarrels, the final treaty to enshrine the rights of both provinces and city; and her disappointment in the seemingly interminable squabbling was reflected in her later writing; the years when the Skylord visits became less frequent. When she asked them why they were abandoning humans they told her it was because people were incomplete, their souls too immature to be taken to the Heart. The Lady felt shame for her species. Humbled that they would wither and die before the Heart accepted them, she devoted the remainder of her life to elevating humanity, to installing a sense of purpose and dignity into life through her teachings. Along with a now-ailing Rah and the last few Skylords to visit Makkathran she cajoled the city into creating the central Church in Eyre. When it was done, when she saw the embryonic Church swelling up out of the ground, she joined Rah on the top of Eyrie's highest tower, and let her soul slip from her body, so they could both embrace the guidance of the Skylord and travel into the Heart together.

No Skylord had been seen above Querencia ever since.

'That's good, Kristabel said. 'I don't want you to turn to people like her for answers. They're the past. If you're the person I think you are, the one I believe in, you make your own decisions.

'Wow. Edeard stared at her, almost intimidated by her impassioned expression. 'I'll do my best, he promised.

'I know you will. That's why I love you. With that she cuddled up against him, ordering the illumination down low again. 'And don't think I haven't noticed what you've done to this maisonette, either, she added.

'Er…

'It's all right. I haven't told anyone. This is Makkathran, even you should know by now never to reveal your full abilities.

'I do.

'Until you have to, of course.

'Right.

She grinned in the darkness. Rather surprisingly, Edeard fell asleep again. This time, with her beside him, it was untroubled by dreams or visions of any kind.

In the morning, Kristabel got up as dawn began to produce a glow in the sky over the Donsori Mountains. She dressed quickly, and kissed Edeard goodbye as he lay drowsily on the bed.

'I'll see you in a little while, she said quietly, and slipped out. Edeard followed her with his farsight as she walked off down the street. Her gondola was waiting in the pool that formed the top end of Flight Canal and the bottom of Arrival Canal. A ge-eagle from Jeavons station circled overhead, watching carefully, as she was taken to her family mansion. She would be let in to the ziggurat by a small side door, and appear at her family's breakfast table pretending she'd spent the night in her room, and every relative would maintain the pretence.

Stupid etiquette, Edeard grumbled to himself as he started to dress. His mauve cotton shirt had sleeves which barely came over his shoulders, while the trousers were the short ones he used for playing football in the park, ending well above his knees. The cobbler had shaken his head in dismay at the shoes Edeard commissioned; complaining they were little more than lace-up slippers with thick soles. But the strange clothing was perfect for Edeard's now-daily run, as he'd known it would be.

This morning he threw on a light sleeveless sweater to counter the early chill air, and jogged steadily away from the tenement. With so few people on the street he made good time to Brotherhood Canal, then ran along the path on the Ogden side until he was level with the militia stables where he cut across the meadows to the crystal wall itself. Golden morning light streamed through the crystal, creating a glowing barrier which curved slightly above him.

As he pounded onwards he felt strands of farsight wash over him, tenuous at best, his observers were trying to avoid being noticed. There were a few blatant scrutinies, accompanied by mental snickering. His routine had attracted a great deal of interest when he started it. The first couple of weeks had even seen kids running alongside as he left the tenement every morning. That casual amusement and mimicry had ended as he kept faithfully to his routine. On those early days after finishing his mild post-fall convalescence, he'd barely been able to last half a mile before having to stop, red faced and heart pounding. Now he could do forty-five minutes with ease.

Acena, the Culverit family doctor, had approved, commenting that she wished more people would take their health seriously. Others in the city had been less charitable. Edeard didn't care. Never again would he be so pathetically out of condition that he couldn't chase someone up a tower in Eyrie.

Once he was back level with Arrival Canal, Edeard headed back across the grass as the stable hands began leading the remaining militia horses on their morning walk. He crossed at the green and yellow slab bridge back into Jeavons as the district started to come to life, with shops and traders busy preparing for the day's commerce. As always he stopped at the bakery on the corner of Pharo Street to pick up some fresh croissants before heading back to the tenement.

Inside the maisonette he stripped off and handed the sweaty clothes to his ge-chimps for laundry. Beside the pool was a shallow oval-shaped recess in the floor, with a sheet of crystal curving round two thirds of it. Edeard stood inside, and told the room to let the water out. A thick spray gushed down on him from holes in the ceiling. He rubbed some soap on then ordered the water to cool slightly so he could rinse himself clean.

These days he actually preferred the novel mini-rainfall arrangement to bathing in the traditional pool. It was a lot quicker, and left him feeling refreshed even after the run. After the comment Kristabel made last night, he was wondering if he should extend the crystal sheet to make it big enough for two. Sharing might be a lot of fun.

He met Kristabel outside her mansion as arranged. The two of them took a family gondola across the city to Ilongo district, disembarking on the North Curve Canal, opposite the North Gate.

'You're happy, Kristabel said as they started walking. She was wearing a modest azure dress with a simple white lace hem, and a broad green hat to shade against the warming sun. Her thick hair hung down her back in a single fluffy tail.

'The caravan families are very good old friends, he replied, 'and I really don't have a lot of those.

They picked their way carefully along the tracks that wound across High Moat heading for the caravan pens. There was a lot of traffic that morning, with carts laden with produce, herds of farm beasts driven along, and terrestrial horses cantering in and out of the various wooden stable blocks. They had to step aside smartly for carriages carrying nobility out into the Iguru Plain at considerable speed.

'That's bad driving, Kristabel said indignantly as the third one sped past, cloaked in a mild seclusion haze. 'I recognize the crest, it belongs to the Ivesol family. I bet it's Corille off to their pavilion on Korbal Mount. She's started seeing Jamis on the sly, the third son of Upral; you know, the head of the Tarmorl family. And she's the eldest daughter; there's quite a dowry involved. I've heard her father say he wished his family copied ours, for she'd make a better District Mistress than her brother will ever do as Master.

'Really?

Kristabel's eyes narrowed in suspicion. She rapped her knuckles on his arm. 'Don't be a beast. These things are important. Those two families haven't been allied for over a century and a half.

'I'll try and remember. Remind me, which district belongs to the Ivestols?

'Lisieux Park.

'Okay. As he recalled, the Park's Master was a waverer in Council, leaning towards the current Mayor. He wondered if a family alliance with the ship-owning Tarmorls would tilt the Master towards Finitan.

'It helps, Kristabel said slyly.

'What does?

'That the Tarmorls support Finitan.

'Ah. Edeard grinned sheepishly. What would I do without her?

He wondered yet again if it was the right time to propose. It had been weeks since their break at the beach lodge, and he'd done his utmost to make time for himself and Kristabel at every opportunity. Yet his terror was now that she'd just think his only concern was time. It wasn't. There wasn't a minute of the day that went past without him thinking of what a life they could have together as man and wife.

He sighed as he scooted round a cart piled dangerously high with cages of geese. There must be some event or action that would convince her of how genuine he was, how much he'd thought it over, and still couldn't see a life without her. Maybe if I just say that?

But then what if it's not good enough? Oh Lady, why do you do this to me?

Not that her scriptures were any help. The closest she ever came on matters of the human heart were: To look into each other's souls and see yourself reflected there is the true sign of a blessed union.

The only trouble was, with the Lady being so old, every time he recalled a scripture he heard it in Mistress Florrel's voice.

Talk about a passion killer.

The pens along High Moat summoned up a real wave of nostalgia. This was the first part of Makkathran Edeard had ever experienced, he remembered being overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of people and animals sauntering along the tracks. The noise and dust was exactly the same as that day; if anything the traffic was thicker now. Three caravans were on their way out of the North Gate, hustled along by the Travel Master's apprentices who were trying to keep everyone moving at a decent rate and avoid jams at junctions between the various tracks. Instructions were shouted and longtalked, adding to the good-natured commotion.

Two caravans had arrived first thing that day. Stragglers were still lumbering along in their big wagons, drawn by bulky, stolid ge-horses. Edeard and Kristabel fell in behind one as they approached the pens. Assessors from several merchant houses were already walking alongside them, small ge-chimps curled up on their shoulders. Edeard remembered the little creatures with a fond smile. How the caravan families hated them; scampering up the crates and cages, examining produce with their oversize eyes and exceptionally sensitive noses, hunting for blemishes that had been strategically positioned out of sight.

Edeard and Kristabel arrived at the three pens which Barkus had been allocated, and stood for a moment looking at the wagons. Five were new, but Edeard recognized every one of the remainder. O'lrany's cart with pigs peering over the rear; as pungent as ever, though the O'lranys themselves always claimed they could smell nothing. The wagon of dark jarash, with its intricate inlays of claret-coloured wood that Golthor chiselled in each winter. Olcus, inspecting the axle of his wagon, while his three young children ran about in gleeful pursuit of a whistling loop. Olcus who gave Edeard a strange look, then craned forward as if not quite believing the tall young man in a jet-black constable's uniform.

'Edeard! the man laughed joyfully, and flung his arms wide. 'You backward village boy. By the Lady, look at you!

Edeard grinned and foolishly stepped into the embrace, only to have the man's powerful arms almost crush him in welcome. He'd been slightly apprehensive at how they'd greet him, but Olcus immediately dispelled all his apprehension. The rest of the families were hurrying forward now, calling out salutations. He was hugged, kissed, had his hand shaken and his back slapped.

'My boy! Barkus exclaimed.

Everyone cleared away, and Edeard put his arms around the old man. For once he was glad of the skill he'd acquired in the city at shielding his thought. Barkus had aged, disturbingly so. His white whiskers were thinner than before, the thickset body appeared almost frail. He walked with the aid of a stick, necessitated by a pronounced shaking in his knees. But his waistcoat was still a colourful extravaganza of scarlet and topaz, with thin silver piping.

'Good to see you, sir, Edeard said.

'We have heard so much about you, Barkus said. 'I couldn't believe it at first. Rumours of the Waterwalker travelled far and wide among the provinces, but we never connected them to you. And now look at you. His hands plucked at Edeard's jacket. 'Wearing a corporal's epaulettes, no less. Congratulations.

'Thank you, sir. And yourself, how fares the caravan?

'Pha! Barkus raised his stick in disgust. 'Look at this wretched thing. A stupid fall in the snow last winter, and my leg snaps like glass. Our doctor has forbidden me from riding, 1 must sit

passively on the wagon's seat while my sons lead us through the mountains. The Lady tests me sorely with so much indignity.

'You look well.

'Ha. Liar! But I forgive you. Now then, there is someone with us who is eager to meet you. The old man grinned mischievously as he turned towards his splendid covered wagon, calling eagerly with longtalk. Edeard took the moment to turn and beckon Kristabel forwards. She walked timidly through the caravan families, unused to being completely ignored — but of course none of them knew who she was. Edeard had been waiting for this moment for a long time, for some reason he couldn't quite fathom it was important to him that Barkus and Kristabel approved of each other. He held her hand and turned back to Barkus, not really seeing the blue and white clad figure stepping out of the wagon. His smile was proud as he opened his mouth to begin the introductions.

'Edeard! Salrana cried, and sprinted past Barkus to fling her arms around him, and land an effusive kiss on his mouth. 'Oh, my darling, it's been so long.

'Look who we found in Ufford, Barkus said happily. 'She's the one who's been busy telling us of all you've achieved.

'Take me to bed right now, Salrana whispered in his ear with a hot breath. 'I don't want to wait another minute.

Every muscle in Edeard's body had frozen in shock. And misery. Shame was inflicting a fair share of the terrible immobility as well.

Salrana swayed back, puzzlement registering on her vibrant face and seeping into her mind. 'Edeard?

'Uh, he groaned. His gaze went automatically to Kristabel, who was also standing rigidly, her composure chilling down to a emotionless stare. He had never realized before how similar they both were; tall, slim, bright, lovely… But then he hadn't thought about Salrana for a long time now; his mind had conveniently pushed her aside. It was all too complicated. Something he'd have to deal with later, when the time was right.

Everyone around thorn turned amazingly silent as they watched the reunion. They watched Salrana look at Kristabel. And no mental shield was strong enough to cover up the dawning realization in her mind. Her shoulders straightened. For a moment the two girls simply stared at each other. Salrana put her hand out. 'I'm Salrana; Edeard and I grew up together.

'Kristabel. The hand was shaken gracefully. 'He neglected to mention that.

As one the caravan families turned to Edeard; except for Barkus, who sighed softly and raised his eyes to the clear blue sky above.

Edeard's farsight revealed a small city tunnel five yards below the pen. He really could make the ground open up and swallow him, as if he was some frightened drakken burrowing away from peril. It was hugely tempting. Except that such cowardice would lose Kristabel for ever.

He dipped his head in penance to his love. 'I'm sorry. I should have told you that Novice Salrana and I survived Ashwell together. Salrana, I should have sent word that I am about to become engaged. I apologize, my behaviour is inexcusable.

Kristabel's lips pouted as she gave him a curious look, but she-said nothing. Her thoughts were none too steady.

'I see, Salrana said, sounding as though she'd expected it all along. 'Congratulations to you both.

'Come along my dear, Barkus said, putting his free arm around Salrana's shoulders. 'I'll see you later, Edeard. That's if you can spare us an ounce of your valuable time.

'Yes sir, Edeard mumbled meekly.

The rest of the families abruptly discovered something else that they had to be getting on with. Olcus gave Edeard a scolding glance as he turned away, propelling his children ahead of him. The eldest O'lrany lad produced a mischievous thumbs up before he mother shoved him along.

'I'd like to go home now, Kristabel said with fragile dignity.

'Of course.

They walked out of the pens together, receiving curious looks from the assessors who were still arriving. Edeard didn't dare say anything to her. He couldn't believe he'd allowed such a mess to happen. Putting off dealing with Salrana was probably the single most stupid thing he'd ever done, aside from not telling Kristabel about her, of course.

When they passed the end of a stable block he suddenly grabbed Kristabel's hand and pulled her off the track. She was too surprised to complain. Edeard conjured up his concealment around the pair of them as he stopped in the shadow of the stable's rear wall. A seclusion haze simply wasn't good enough for this. He wanted absolute privacy.

Kristabel frowned as her farsight probed the psychic baffle. 'You're not supposed to know how to use that— Then she drew a sharp breath as Edeard dropped to one knee.

'Mistress Kristabel, I love you more than I know how to say, and I cannot imagine a life without you. Would you please consent to marrying me? I know this isn't the correct way, but I don't care, I just want you. I will fight the Skylords themselves if that's what it takes to prove my love.

'Edeard?

'I know I always mess up, but I don't mean to, really I don't—

'Yes.

'I just didn't know what to do about Salrana, so I kept on ignoring the problem—

'I said yes.

'I don't know what I was… What?

Kristabel knelt down beside him, grasping his hands in her, and smiling. 'I said yes, I'll marry you.

Edeard's concealment faltered as he stared at her beautiful face. 'Oh Lady. You did, didn't you?

She inclined her head slightly, proffering herself for a kiss. He touched his lips to hers, and nothing else mattered any more. After the kiss, they just grinned at each other. Edeard slowly realized a couple of giggling stable hands were peering round the corner, goggling at them. Longtalk calls were pouring out to their friends, as they gifted everyone the sight of the Waterwalker and the future Mistress of Haxpen kneeling in the mud whilst snogging.

'Er yes, Edeard said, hurriedly rising to his feet. He held out a hand to Kristabel. She stood and gave the dark dripping stain down the front of her skirt a peevish look. Now Edeard was concentrating on his surroundings, there was quite a pungent smell of manure. A horrified examination of the ground revealed it wasn't just mud they were standing in. A mortified groan started up at the back of his throat.

Kristabel giggled wildly.

'Get about your business, Edeard snapped at the youngsters, and put on a fierce expression. They fled, laughing all the way.

Kristabel hugged him delightedly. 'You are going to be the one who explains to our children how you proposed.

'Yes, he said meekly.

She kissed him properly. 'There's no need to fight a Skylord. You know how I feel about you.

'Yes. He glanced at the worn grey planks that made up the back of the stable. 'Can we, er…?

'Yes. She held out her arm, and Edeard led her away from the stable back to the path.

'I appreciate the sentiment, though, Kristabel said. 'Actually, I'm quite intrigued how you would fight a Skylord.

Edeard blushed. 'Me too. Do I ask your father now?

'Yes. She gathered her composure, and looked straight ahead. 'And if he approves, he will put the motion before the Upper Council for a vote.

'Right… What?

'The direct heir of a District Master or Mistress has to get Council approval for their marriage. It's a formality. It dates back to the Nighthouse inheritance crisis eleven hundred years ago when the Master forbade his eldest son to marry a woman from Myco — he'd fallen out with her father, some dispute about unpaid cargo. He threatened to disinherit him, which the son challenged in court, so the Master had the law changed. Alter that the families used it to make sure the right people produce heirs. Nobody bothers with that any more, the really important marriages are quietly arranged between houses. Law simply becomes tradition. But it actually is still law.

'Oh, dear Lady. When I am Mayor, I'm going to repeal every stupid law this city has and replace them all with something simple.

'When you're Mayor?

Edeard cleared his throat. 'If.

'You're serious about that, aren't you?

'Do you really think in this day and age I should have to ask Bise or even Owain's permission to marry you?

'I suppose it is unpleasant if you think about it closely. But I've grown up with all this, so I just know the way things work. It hasn't bothered me before.

'So, was your father arranging a fiance for you?

'No. Daddy wouldn't do that. Not that it stopped other families from petitioning him, mind you. There were a lot of suitors.

'Oh. The idea of someone as beautiful and spirited as Kristabel being married off to some dismal second son for the sake of dynastic status quo was repulsive. It sent him thinking about everything Ranalee had said about bloodlines. Yes, that law will definitely have to be removed. Though he suspected it would take more than that to loosen the nobility's' stranglehold on Makkathran's society.

'Why now? Kristabel asked softly as they neared the North Curve Canal.

'Excuse me?

'Why did you propose now? I mean, I know Salrana made it happen, but I'm curious why she did.

'It wasn't guilt, he said quickly. 'Salrana and I were so comfortable with each other. We'd been through so much together, I've known her all my life. We were going to be lovers when she got back from Ufford, which would have led to us getting married I suppose, at least I always thought it would. Then I met you.

'You agreed you were going to be lovers?

'Er, yes.

'Sounds like the country town version of our family arrangements.

'I'm not explaining this well. The point is, when I saw her today I felt just terrible at what I was doing to her, I really have broken her heart, which is about as unpleasant as you can get. She doesn't deserve that, she's such a nice person, the best our village ever produced. But despite that, there was no choice. I was never torn between the two of you. It was you, and only you.

She stopped and kissed him again. 'That's lovely, and very flattering. I think.

'I love you Kristabel, he said simply.

'And I love you too. So the first thing we have to do is go and tell daddy the good news.

And dear old Uncle Lorin the bad. 'Right! He straightened his shoulders and took a breath. 'I can do that. We'll go and do it now.

'You understand, don't you, that after he says yes, we have absolutely no say in anything. If you thought you'd encountered tradition in this city before, it's nothing compared to what's about to happen. The formalities of marriage for the direct heir of a District Master were scripted a thousand years ago, and it does not change, not even for Haxpen and the odd Mistress like me.

'Er, okay, he said apprehensively.

'Ah, you say that now

'As long as you and I are together at the end of it, the city can do its worst. I mean, how bad can it be?

Edeard arrived at the base of the Blue Tower in mid-afternoon, and looked up at the tall structure looming over the Tosclla District. Its azure walls almost matched the bright cloudless sky above, as if it were attempting its own variant of concealment.

As he walked forward the shadows thrown by its huge buttresses fell across him. There was something about the Eggshaper Guild headquarters which always slightly intimidated him, and he was never sure why.

He walked into the grand entrance hall with its dark red flooring, standing in the angled grid of thick sunbeams shining down through the lancet windows far above. A Guild guard approached, wearing his plain white tunic under a pale drosilk jacket. Edeard gave him a wary glance, it was the same sergeant who had intercepted him on his first visit here.

'Waterwalker, the sergeant said.

'Sergeant Eachal, Grand Master Finitan asked to see me.

A reserved smile crept onto the sergeant's face. 'I know. It's always best to turn up here with an appointment.

'Yes. I've learned that.

Please, Eachal gestured at the stairs. 'He is expecting you.

Edeard's constant running was definitely beginning to pay off. The long, winding stairs were annoying, but nothing more. His breathing was constant the whole time they walked up.

'They say you saw Chae's soul after he died, Eachal said.

'I did.

'Was he happy?

Edeard frowned. He was used to being questioned about seeing souls, but not quite like this. 'Not that he'd died. But he was content with what awaited him.

'I'm glad he found peace at the end. There was a lot of hardship in his life.

'You knew him?

'The same way you did. I trained at Jeavons station.

'You did? Edeard couldn't help the surprise in his voice.

Eachal gave Edeard a furtive glance. 'I didn't turn out quite like you, but yes, that's where I served my probation, and eight years on the streets.

'I didn't know.

'You're not going to let us down, are you?

'Let you down?

'People have a lot of expectations now.

'I'm aware of that.

'Yet you're going to marry into the nobility.

Edeard stopped and faced the sergeant. 'I'm marrying the girl I love. The gangs will not benefit from that. This city will see the full restoration of law and order, and it will apply to all equally.

Eachal pursed his lips and nodded in apparent understanding. 'I'm glad to hear it.

Edeard knew the man was still sceptical, yet didn't know how to convince him, nor why he should make a special effort.

As always, the view from Finitan's office was a huge distraction. Edeard managed to greet the Master formally while Eachal bowed and backed out. He'd been worried that the height of the office would somehow remind him of his fall from the tower in Eyrie, yet his nerves were calm as he gazed out across the rooftops.

'My boy, Finitan said happily, rising from behind his desk to shake Edeard's hand. 'So glad to see you. And you don't have to ask, I will be delighted to be your nominee in the Upper Council when Julan introduces the Marriage Consent bill.

'Ah, thank you sir. He'd said he didn't care about the ludicrous formalities of the marriage, yet… As soon as a delighted Julan granted his permission, the household's senior equerry had been summoned to inaugurate the preparations. There were the legal requirements, Julan had to ask the Mayor for a ruling to introduce the Consent bill before the Upper Council — which would be a week yet, the current session's legislative schedule was very busy. The Pythia was informed, and her blessing requested for the engagement; then her staff had to find a time when the main church in Eyrie was free for such a ceremony, which wasn't going to be until autumn at least. Letters of notification issued to the other District Masters, and by custom the Guild Masters as well. The official engagement party planned for the evening following the vote in Council — which was usually hosted by the groom's family, but would now have to be at the Culverit mansion.

Edeard had sat through the two days (two entire days!) of talks with Julan's household staff arranging such things. Given his profound ignorance in such matters his input was minimal, but still he had to be in the room where a dizzily happy Kristabel chattered endlessly with her housekeeper and stylists of the merits of various fabrics. For, given how important these events were, you had to dress correctly for them. In Kristabel's case it meant an entire new collection of evening gowns and a whole 'engagement wardrobe'; while the rest of her family started commissioning new robes and fashionable suits. Edeard was taken to one of the rooms on the seventh floor, where a tailor who specialized in dressing militia officers was summoned to produce a set of constable uniforms made from cloth more fitting to someone of his new 'status' — he was already dreading the day they'd arrive and he'd have to wear them at Jeavons station.

Once the engagement party was over, preparations for the actual marriage ceremony could legitimately begin. Between then and now, the happy couple would be receiving invitations to parties and civic galas which they would have to attend. A lot of invitations. And Uncle Lorin was to be their official chaperone at such events.

Finitan laughed at Edeard's broken expression. 'So, thought of eloping, yet?

'Certainly not, Edeard said loyally.

Finitan just laughed louder. 'Now you know how I feel about all the speeches I have to deliver. I'm addressing the Chemistry Guild apprentices this evening in the hope of a few votes cast my way. Will you be attending?

'Kristabel's expecting me; I have to help her select the music for our engagement party.

'That's nice. Do you know many songs?

'Only Dybal's, he confessed.

Finitan laughed again. A couple of ge-chimps scurried in through their little doorways in the bookshelf walls, bringing trays laden with tea and biscuits. Edeard eyed the brandysnaps and chocolate chip shortbreads keenly. He'd never found the bakery which supplied the Blue Tower, but Finitan always had the best biscuits in Makkathran. The main door opened behind him.

'I'm sure you remember Master Topar? Finitan said lightly.

Edeard couldn't recall meeting Topar since his first day in the city, which now he thought about it was odd since Topar was Finitan's deputy. And looking at the figure walking across the office, he was surprised by the Master's appearance. Gone was the overweight frame. He looked a lot leaner, but not necessarily healthy with it. His face was haggard, the full chubby cheeks given way to deep worry creases in loose flesh, while his eyes seemed bruised. He still wore expensive clothes, a silk shirt and suede trousers, high black boots, and the traditional Master's cloak, but even they couldn't cover the fact that he'd undergone a time of considerable hardship.

'Master, Edeard bowed.

'You've been making quite a name for yourself while I was away, so I'm told, Topar said in his powerful baritone — that at least remained the same.

Edeard shrugged.

'How little any of us knew the day we arranged for you to join the constables, Topar continued.

'Sir?

'I apologize, Waterwalker, I'm blaming the messenger. It's not been a pleasant time for me.

The three of them sat down as the ge-chimps handed out the elegant china cups.

'Partly my fault, Finitan said. 'But you did come to us with an incredible story, Edeard. Ordinarily I confess I would have paid little heed to it: a lad from the provinces exaggerating a few brawls, seeking sympathy to gain entrance to the Guild. However, I found you pleasingly guileless; and Akeem chose you as his apprentice which really told me all I needed to know.

'I don't understand, Edeard said.

'The weapon, Finitan said softly. His third hand opened u drawer on his desk, and lifted out a package of leather wrapping. It drifted through the air to finish on the desktop.

Edeard froze as his farsight probed the contents. 'Oh my Lady, he moaned. It was a repeat-fire gun.

Finitan's third hand unwrapped the package gingerly. Edeard gazed at the thing with utter loathing. The metal was tarnished, with ingrained rust corroding several areas, and the magazine had received several dents, but he would recognize the evil device to his dying day. 'Where did you get it?

'Where you left it, Topar said. 'At the bottom of the new well in Ashwell.

'Huh?

'That's where I've been, and as you know it's not an easy journey at the best of times. I only returned last night.

'You've been to Ashwell? Edeard thought he was over his life in the village with all its lost inhabitants, he really did, but staring at someone else who'd seen those forlorn ruins was triggering an avalanche of memories.

'I sent Master Topar to try and confirm your story, Finitan said. 'Which, I'm afraid, he has done in no uncertain terms.

'It was all as you described it, Topar said. 'The weeds and moss have grown over the rubble, of course; but I knew Ashwell as soon as I saw it. The cliffs, the old rampart wall around. Even the well shaft you hid in was easy to locate; though it was mostly full of mud. How you moved that capping stone is a mystery to me. It took us a day to break it up and move the pieces away; then it was another week excavating the mud before we could recover the gun. He gave the weapon on the desk a scowl.

'So now what? Edeard asked.

'Now we've established the gun is real we need to know about those bandits, Finitan said. 'If that's what they truly are. What can you tell us about their leader? You said you spoke with him.

'All I can tell you is his anger. He hated me because I'd killed his kindred in their ambush.

'Is that what he said?

Edeard struggled to remember. It wasn't easy; for so long now he'd been trying to banish this very memory. 'Friends. That's what it was, he called them: our friends. I was to die because of what I'd done to our friends. Yes.

'Interesting, Finitan said. 'And how long between the ambush in the wood and the raid on your village?

'Not quite a year.

'So it wasn't an instinctive hot-headed response, then? They'd planned it out.

Edeard nodded, hanging on to the memory no matter the pain. 'They knew us. They knew Salrana. The one from the church, that's what he said. I suppose they must have been watching us. I never considered that before.

'Then they were organized?

'Yes.

'Hardly the kind of raid I would credit ordinary bandits with.

'Their clothes, Edeard exclaimed. 'The ones in the wood were wild, savages; they daubed themselves with mud, and they didn't even have shoes. But the ones who came to the village wore proper clothes, with boots.

'And they had the repeat-fire gun, Finitan concluded.

'They're not bandits, are they?

'No, not the kind who have always lived around the edge of our society, Finitan agreed. 'Though I suspect they are allied. These are the emissaries of something else entirely.

'What? Edeard asked.

'I don't know. But they are relentless. Finitan gave Topar a small nod.

'There were five in my travelling party, Topar said. 'Only two of us made it back to Makkathran. Edeard, I'm sorry, but the province is all but lost. Eight villages have been overrun, and that was when I left just before New Year. The capital is fortified and afraid, with families leaving every day. Farmers are deserting their land and heading to the eastern provinces. None of the caravans visit any more. Their economy is failing. The neighbouring provinces no longer offer help in any fashion; they are too worried about their own bandit incursions.

Edeard's head sank into his hands. 'Witham? he asked.

'Yes, Topar said. 'It fell not six months after Ashwell. Since then, the raids have increased. It's the same every time, they wipe out the entire village, no one is left alive, the buildings are torched. The senselessness of it all is shocking, they're not doing it for anything other than the pleasure of killing. There's no reason for it.

Tears were threatening to flow as Edeard thought of the pretty leatherworker apprentice he'd met at the Witham market. He'd never even managed to get her name, gauche boy that he'd been. And now she was dead, every garment or saddle or harness she'd laboured over was gone. Her family murdered.

'It's not your fault, Finitan said gently. 'Stop punishing yourself.

'I should go back, Edeard said. 'I should go with the city's militia and burn them out of the land they've contaminated, every last one of them. He feared me before, and by the Lady he was right to do so. I will bring him and his kind to an end, one way or another.

'Just calm down, Finitan said. 'There will be a time when we confront the bandits, and you may well lead that battle. But there are many things we have to do before that day arrives.

'Why? Edeard snapped. 'If you and Owain combine in Council, you could send every militia brigade we have, and order the provinces to raise their militias with us. An army could descend on Rulan province. These new bandits would be wiped from Querencia for ever.

'Where do they come from? Finitan asked. 'They're not barbarians, they wore clothes. His third hand lifted the repeat-fire gun again. 'More importantly, where do they manufacture this? Do they have a city like Makkathran behind them? Two cities? A continent? We still don't know what lies beyond Rulan, not with any surety. All these things we need to establish beyond any doubt before we embark on some massive campaign to tame the wilds. Such a venture will be deeply unpopular both here in the city, and out in the country.

'And if you don't do it, these invaders will be standing in front of the City Gate within five years.

'That they will, Finitan conceded. 'This is the greatest threat we have faced since Rah led us here two thousand years ago. I am deeply worried, Edeard. Something is out there, some society, moving with a malign purpose. A society inimical to ours, bent on destroying us for no reason we know. More important, they have these Lady-damned repeat-firing guns. You with your strength could ward off the bullets fired at you by one of these guns, maybe even two or three. But I doubt I could withstand such an onslaught; nor could many people. You talk of marching our militia against them. One man armed with this weapon could wipe out an entire cavalry troop. And they have concealment, too. We cannot send our Militia soldiers against them, it would be slaughter on an unbelievable scale. Edeard, I am frightened by this, do you understand? J do not know what will happen.

'Yes, sir. I understand.

'They're not settling, Topar said. 'That's the strangest thing. The lands they have driven us from in Rulan are reverting to wilds; weeds and grass flourish in the fields, animals roam free; the ruins of villages are choked in vines and creepers. Nobody lives there, these strangers are not clearing us out so their own kind can dwell in our place. When we arrived at Ashwell, we had seen no one for over a week, and that was a week of hard riding. It was only coming back we clashed with them. Our luck was foul that day; some lone patrol or spy saw us, and we ran away as soon as we realized they were after us. It was as though Honious himself was tracking us. They were unrelenting. So now I've seen these guns used in anger, Edeard, I know what horror you faced. The Lady performed a miracle when she guided you to safety that night. All we could ever do was flee, and three times even that was not enough.

'Then what are they doing? Edeard asked. 'What do they want?

'I don't know, Finitan said. 'But it is imperative we find out. He stared at the broken gun, abhorrence glowing in his mind. 'If we fail to stop them out in the provinces, then we will have to make similar guns just to survive. Can you imagine the carnage that will unleash on this world? The damage one man can wreak with such a gun, multiplied a thousand fold. For once such a thing is made, it cannot be unmade.

'It's already been made, Topar said bitterly. 'We are not the ones at fault here.

Edeard reached out his third hand, and grasped the gun. He brought it over to hang in the air before his face, probing the complicated mechanism inside with his farsight. In fact, there weren't so many components. 'Have you examined it? he asked Topar.

'I have done nothing less for months, the Master said. 'The whole way home I have studied it.

'Is there some secret part, something that must have come from the ships that brought us to Querencia, or could any metalsmith build it?

'The mechanism is ingenious, but that is all. There is nothing out of the ordinary about it, no magic or impossible contraption. A competent weapons Guild Master would be able to fabricate such components. Even a journeyman should be capable, I suspect.

That caused Edeard to give the Grand Master a sharp glance. 'The long-barrelled pistols came from the Weapons Guild. An ancient design, Owain said.

'Yes, Finitan said significantly, though his mind was tightly shielded. 'It could be they already have this or something similar in their deep vaults. Knowledge or artefacts left over from the ships.

'Is that where the invaders got theirs from, do you think?

Finitan allowed dismay to ease through his mental shielding.

'I find it incredible that after two thousand years, we have never heard even a whisper of another civilization on Querencia.

'Nobody has ever successfully circumnavigated the planet, Edeard said. 'Or so I was given to understand. Maybe that's why. Maybe it isn't geographically impossible, it's just that nobody ever gets past this other settlement.

'If they were that big and powerful, we would know of them, Finitan said.

'Perhaps we should ask the watching widow, Topar said mordantly, then he gave Edeard a keen look. 'Actually

'I haven't seen any souls since Chae, Edeard countered. 'In any case, wondering where they are doesn't help us, it's what they're doing which is the problem.

'If only we could find where they come from, we might be able to know their full intention, Finitan said. He sighed. 'We're arguing in circles. It is my response we should be determining.

'Perhaps a truce with Owain, Edeard suggested. 'Makkathran needs to send scouts out into the wild beyond Rulan and track down the origin of the guns. 'I'd go… he began uncertainly.

'No you will not, Finitan said firmly. 'We need you here to complete your victory over the gangs. Once the city is consolidated, we can start to make more detailed alliances with the provinces. That's what Owain never understands, we can hardly command unity with the countryside if we're unable to instil universal law here at home. Yet that unity must come in the face of these incursions. That makes you vital to my campaign, Waterwalker.

Edeard nodded reluctantly. 'After that?

'When the gangs are banished, and if I become Mayor, then it might be appropriate for you to track down your nemesis. Though the Lady knows how you will explain such an absence to your new wife.

Edeard flinched, he hadn't thought of that. 'Sometime you have to do what's wrong to do what's right, he murmured quietly.

'Indeed, Finitan said. 'In the meantime, I will focus on winning this damn election. That way I can lay the groundwork for the inevitable struggle which is to come.

'It might come sooner than you think, Topar said. 'The provinces around Rulan have already raised their militias. Their appeals to the Grand Council for help will arrive before long, people will come to understand what is happening out on our western borders.

'Not just on the borders, Edeard said. 'Ordinary bandits are everywhere in the countryside, and growing bold. You will have to move decisively once you're Mayor.

'If, my boy, and it's still a big if. Owain is no fool and he has a lot of support in the city. People like his One Nation call.

'But what we are talking about is the same.

'Essentially, yes, but I will instigate it differently. Securing the City must come first, without that all will be lost. Owain is using unification to rally the city behind him, the city as it is. Ultimately, that will fail.

'We're making progress, Edeard said. 'I have a new tactic which we're almost ready to deploy. It's a bit of a gamble, but it might help resolve the current stand-off.

'Then let us pray to the Lady that it does.

Edeard stood, almost ready to go. 'Master?

'Oh dear, Finitan said with a kindly smile. 'This doesn't sound good.

'I need a small genistar to scout round without drawing attention to itself.

'An interesting challenge, I will see what I can sculpt for you.

'And I was also wondering if you know how to see through a concealment. I'm convinced the people who set the trap for me in Eyrie were able to perceive me.

Finitan gave Topar a fast bemused glance. 'As there is absolutely no such thing as concealment, then there could be no way to penetrate it.

'Yes sir, Edeard said in disappointment.

'Certainly no such thing as this.

Finitan's gifting rushed into Edeard's mind, a hugely complex methodology he could barely comprehend.

'I'll be sure I remember to not use it, then, sir.

'We'll make a true Makkathran citizen out of you yet, my boy.

The uniforms that arrived from the tailor were amazingly comfortable, made from some weave of cotton and drosilk that were as soft as they were strong. Edeard hadn't expected that. Unlike the dress uniform which Kristabel had given him, these were all for everyday use. They lacked the sheer gaudiness of militia uniforms, but the tailor had somehow contrived to make them a lot more glamorous than the ones Edeard had bought from the regular constable supplier. Platinum buttons shone brighter than Dinlay's ageing over-polished silver ones. The cut was subtly different, making him look sharp and smart, the kind of tunic a member of the nobility would wear if they could ever lower themselves to sign on at a station. And the shirts made mountaintop snow look grey by comparison. The tailor even supplied a special mix of soap flakes for the ge-chimps to use, so as not to sully that purity. And, as for the knee-high boots, space between the nebulas wasn't that black nor did it possess such lustre.

The first morning he put one on Edeard stood nervously in front of his maisonette's mirror and looked at the figure he cut. No way could he stop the prideful smile from lifting his lips.

Dashing, he decided, yes, very dashing.

The long weather-cloak helped, held by an emerald-encrusted broach round his neck which he was trying to pin into place one-handed. His third hand ruffled it, and he admired the swirl it made around him. Nice touch. He practised the ruffle again, making the fabric flare out and undulate in slow motion. Perhaps it could become his signature; at night he would brighten the city's orange lights to silhouette himself as he emerged from nowhere to bear down formidably on criminals, cloak swirling like angry smoke behind him. At such an impressive sight the fight would go out of them, and they'd abandon their wrongdoing, sinking to their knees in contrition. Okay then!

'Yow! The broach pin jabbed into his fumbling thumb. Edeard shook it, then sucked the drop of blood away. 'Lady-damn. All right, so the image needs a bit of work.

He fixed the broach in place, settled the hat on his head, and ran a finger along the rim, ending in a salute to himself. 'Now that's what I call an officer of the city.

Macsen called it something else entirely as Edeard strode purposefully into their small hall at Jeavons station. Young Felax dropped his jaw in astonishment as Edeard walked past the bench he was sitting at. A cheeky chorus of wolf-whistles echoed round the small hall.

'Happy to see you're not abandoning your roots, Kanseen sniped.

Edeard undipped the broach and removed his weather-cloak with a flourish. 'Anyone else jealous?

'I'm so glad you taught us concealment, Boyd grunted. 'Because there's no way I'm walking down a street next to that.

Dinlay glared at him for the indiscretion. 'You look very smart, he said. 'People have expectations from us now, it's right that you should look the part.

'Thank you, Edeard acknowledged. He looked round the hall. There were ten constables sitting at the tables now, men he trusted implicitly, reading through reports. The way files were building up they'd soon have to contract the Guild of Clerks to keep track of it all, Edeard thought ruefully.

'Seventy-two of them now, Doral said.

'That's good, Edeard acknowledged. Most of the files in the hall were those on the excluded, which were still being added to. But his team had been going through them, and assessing the reports from stations across the city, along with the priceless information coming in through Charyau and his network of merchants and traders. Edeard's old notes from his days spying on the House of Blue Petals were also examined keenly. Slowly and surely, they were identifying the senior echelons of the gangs. The leadership rarely met in person, so there was no hard evidence actually tying them together in any criminal act. But the way they collaborated and respected each other's territories meant that they knew each other, that they were organized along formal lines. In fact, it was intriguingly like a mirror to the way which the interests of the established nobility locked together. Edeard was still a little irked that they hadn't proved a connection between the gangs and the more disreputable aristocratic families — such as the Gilmorns, for example.

'Can't we just go and arrest them? Boyd whined. 'Surely seventy-two is enough? And Buate is still having to appear in the financial court each day.

Edeard pulled a face. 'I'd like it to be a hundred, he said. There was something about the number which was impressive. It would show Makkathran's citizens how they were making huge inroads against the gangs. That it wasn't just exclusion warrants and the promises of the Mayoral candidates they were deploying against the gangs.

The idea wasn't to get convictions, Edeard knew he didn't have enough evidence for that. But a little known clause in the articles of arrest meant that if a constable swore there were grounds for suspicion that the detainee was involved in illegal activity they could be held for twenty-two days without charges being filed. The twenty-two days was supposed to allow tin-constables enough time to gather evidence and interview all concerned.

Edeard reasoned that with the entire leadership, or as many as he could reasonably identify, taken off the streets and held incommunicado for half a month, the gangs' ordinary streel soldiers would be completely lost. 'A body without a head, as Macsen had summed it up.

If gang resistance crumbled as Edeard hoped, liberating people from their tyranny, the prospect of it all coming back at the end of the twenty-two days would be a colossal argument in Finitan's favour to bring about the banishment. Finitan was also planning to introduce emergency legislation to the Grand Council as soon as the arrests began, extending the detention period to a full month. Forty-four days would take them past the election. It was slightly underhand, Edeard thought, but then this was Makkathran — he wasn't about to change it overnight.

He sat down at the table he used, and gave the neat grey cardboard folders a dispirited look. No matter how hard they worked, or how much he delegated, the paperwork never got any smaller.

'Something more for you to read, Dinlay said.

Edeard looked up to see his friends clustered together, smiling as Dinlay held out a small red book.

'A gift from all of us, Kanseen said.

Edeard took the book. It was very slim. Small gold-leaf lettering on the front read: A Gentleman's Guide to Marriage.

'Thank you, he said, genuinely grateful.

'What does it say about the stag night? Macsen asked. Caught himself, threw Kanseen a panicked look. 'I mean, friends' night, he corrected.

She just groaned wearily.

Edeard flicked through the pages. 'An evening may justifiably be set aside for a fellow to bid his male acquaintances farewell, in the full knowledge that his bachelor ways are about to end. This should be a tasteful evening, revisiting those places retaining fond memories, and sampling their delights for the last time.

'I don't want another night at Olivan's Eagle, Dinlay protested. 'This is supposed to be special.

'We could start at the Rakas restaurant in Abad, the one we went to after graduation, Kanseen said.

Edeard was about to agree, but Salrana had been with them that day. 'Maybe a different one, he said.

'There's a theatre in Fiacre I know of, Boyd said breathlessly. 'The dancers take their dollies off as they dance.

'Do they? Edeard asked.

Kanseen deliberately focused on a point just above Edeard's head, her jaw set firm.

'That's not reliving the past, Edeard conceded.

'We'll start off at the dog track in Andromeda, then make our way through some of the classy taverns in Lillylight, Macsen said. 'There are plenty of good restaurants and theatres there, so we can make our choices on the night.

'Excellent idea, Kanseen said.

'Julan has to get the vote through Council first, Edeard complained.

'It's considered bad form to vote against a Consent bill, Dinlay said. 'There hasn't been a nay vote for over three hundred years.

'Really? I didn't know that.

'We know, they said in union.

Edeard was supposed to spend the evening choosing the suit to wear at the charity ball thrown by the District Master of Nighthouse. Due in a fortnight's time, it was given every year to raise funds for city hospitals. Kristabel had accepted his excuse that there was just some constable work which had to be done at night. 'Be careful, she told him, which almost made him feel guilty. Almost.

It was certainly the first time Edeard had ever been grateful to Buate; but the gang lord had arranged a meeting with several others on their One Hundred list. A get-together of that magnitude couldn't be ignored.

As dusk fell he led the squad out of the station. All of them were immediately aware of the three ge-eagles overhead, and a couple of small ge-dogs loitering down the street. It had been a while since the gangs had used actual people to spy on their comings and goings from the constable station.

'I want to try something, he told the others. 'We're not going to use the tunnels for a while.

They followed him over Marble Canal bridge into Drupe, where the streets grew narrow, and the buildings tall. The ge-eagles kept level with them, drifting and soaring on the night air.

'I've been reading your book, Edeard said. 'Apparently, after marriage, I shouldn't complain to Kristabel about events relating to managing my estate if they go poorly.

'Yeah, I always avoid that when I'm with Saria, Boyd said. 'It's for the best.

'Nor should I be querulous about the proportion of the household budget spent on her wardrobe. Apparently it's her duty to always look her best for me, and support me in public'

'Quite right, Kanseen said.

'And I must not feel inadequate if I cede an argument to her.

'That has to have been written by a woman, Dinlay pronounced.

It was already dark at the foot of the buildings when they walked into Moslet Avenue, little more than a deep crevice between walls six storeys high. Small vaulting tube bridges linked the two sets of buildings, with slender orange light slits on their underside shining a week orange glow down on to the pavement. The alley was a series of sharp corners, which restricted farsight; while its narrow width made anyone following them highly conspicuous. Precisely the kind of place that usually provided Edeard with excellent cover while he vanished down into the tunnels below.

He ordered the orange light strips on the bridges to dim down, turning the darkness to a claustrophobic force. A sweep round with his farsight showed him they were alone as they went round the first corner. Then he followed that up with a more subtle look, using the technique Finitan had gifted him. Someone was sneaking into the alley; registering in his mind as a grey swirl, like a small bubble of fog. At the core was the outline of a man.

'Keep going, he told his friends. 'We need to hurry.

They started to jog forwards. Edeard observed the figure behind them quicken his pace.

'Okay, stop here. he ordered as they went round the second corner. They were directly under one of the small bridges, invisible to the ge-eagles above. The concealed pursuer hurried round the corner, to see the squad huddled together as if performing some illegal act. Edeard's arm came up, pointing at him, cloak swirling to follow the move.

The narrow alley was suddenly drenched in brilliant white light. A terrific bang ricocheted off the confining walls.

Edeard's miniature thunderbolt struck the figure square in his chest. He was flung backwards to sprawl on the ground, concealment vanishing in the blink of an eye.

'Great Lady, Dinlay gulped.

Edeard was watching the figure keenly; the man was twitching but making no attempt to get up. Farsight revealed he was still alive, his thoughts chasing an agitated sleep pattern. The thunderbolt must have knocked him unconscious, though his heart was still pumping wildly, and not entirely regularly. His thick leather jacket was smoking from a burn spot where the discharge had struck.

'Take care of the ge-eagles, Edeard told Kanseen as his third hand lifted the inert figure, and drew him towards the squad. The birds would have witnessed the flash, he couldn't help that. But they would have been dazzled. Their owners still wouldn't know what was going on in the alley.

Once Kanseen had confused the already flustered genista is overhead, Edeard asked the city to let him into the drain tunnel below the street. The squad sank down, taking their captive with them.

Once they were safe below the surface, Edeard examined the man his third hand was still holding above the trickle of water. He was plain enough, probably in his late forties, with dark curly hair and a small, neatly trimmed beard. 'Anyone know him?" Edeard asked.

'I don't remember him from any of our lists, Dinlay said.

Macsen let out a pained sigh. 'He won't be, look at how he's dressed.

Edeard gave the unconscious man a closer look. The clothes were simple, a black leather jacket worn over an indigo shirt, and beige suede trousers. Ankle length boots with discreet silver hooks for the laces. The kind of garb that could be worn anywhere in Makkathran without drawing undue attention. However, these days Edeard was familiar enough with the city's tailors to know quality when he saw it. 'Expensive, he said.

'Certainly not cheap, Macsen said. 'So we know he's not from the gangs, not directly.

'The families?

Macsen's face produced a pained expression. 'Again, nothing you could ever prove, not that he'll tell us anything.

'What then? Boyd asked. 'Come on, you obviously know something.

'Look exactly where we are and how we got here, Macsen said with the kind of serious, level voice that was unusual for him. 'And that blast of light you knocked him out with, Edeard, that's something new. There's rumours that your maisonette is different. A fall off a tower can't kill you. Small wonder the families are extremely interested in you.

'The families can throw light like that, Edeard said defensively. 'I just have greater strength.

'No, it's more than just strength. Can anyone else see souls? Can they talk to the city itself? Nobody can. You stand above us, Waterwalker. A long way above.

'So? Dinlay said. 'We've always known Edeard is far more talented than the rest of us put together.

'This goes way beyond psychic talent. Macsen gave Edeard a level stare. 'You frighten people, Waterwalker. Even I'm nervous of you, and I know you better than most in this city. I don't think you'll abuse the power you have. But, face it, what's to stop you? That's why you're drawing this kind of attention.

'I would never… Edeard broke off, appealing to his friends. 1 want the city to work, to be a home we can all depend on, a place where everyone can be safe. You know that; that's why you're helping me. Isn't it? he asked, aghast that they might not share his ambition.

'Yes, Kanseen assured him. 'But you have to admit, Macsen has a point. Not only have you got your talent, but you're popular as well. I bet if you stood for Mayor, you'd get a sizeable amount of the votes.

'I don't want to, I support Finitan.

'I know that, she told him. 'The point is, the Grand Families see how much support you have, and they know you want to instigate change. Change for them, a return to more democratic rule, the introduction of accountability, will diminish their power, and Lady help them, their wealth, too. That's what the city's entire political structure is geared around: preserving and expanding their estates. If you wipe out the gangs, you'll go after them next, and the way they've distorted and abused Rah's constitution. That's inevitable.

'Some people say you are Rah, Boyd said. He shrugged. 'It's true. I'm often asked. They think you've come back from the Heart to restore the city to the haven it was in the beginning. The gangs and the bandits we're plagued with right now, that's the kind of chaos Rah led his followers away from.

'Oh Dear Lady, Edeard gave Dinlay a desperate look.

'People have asked me, too, Dinlay said apologetically. 'But I know you're not going to declare yourself emperor. That's stupid. They'd never say that if they knew you properly.

Edeard felt incredibly weary. After everything he'd done, all he'd endured, to find he had created a huge source of mistrust and suspicion was a hideous revelation. 'I just want people to be safe, he cried. 'I want the killing to stop. I want the fear to end. I want people to know their leaders and constables will protect them.

Kanseen put her arm around his shoulder, 'I think that's what disturbs the families most of all; they can't believe someone with your strength can be honest. But you are, and I will stand by you to the end because of that.

'Me too, Dinlay said.

'I trust you, Edeard, Boyd said.

They all turned to Macsen.

'Hey! Goes without saying.

'Say it anyway, Kanseen said.

'I'm with you.

'Thank you.

'But you've got to admit, everything you can do, it's way beyond anything Querencia has seen before; and I include Rah in that. Blasphemy or not.

'Yeah, Edeard admitted sheepishly.

'So… Dinlay queried. 'Are you Rah?

'No!

'So why you? Macsen asked. 'You must be something special.

'Really, I'm not.

'You were chosen, Kanseen said. 'We know everything the Lady says in her Scriptures is true. You showed us Chae's soul — and haven't you got to love the irony in that? Him of all people. So if we have souls, and Odin's Sea is the path to the Heart, there's a lot more to this universe that we know.

'Chosen? Edeard repeated dumbly.

'I don't know by who, or by what, but there's no way you with all your abilities came forth at a time like this purely by chance. The Heart, or our ancestors, are speaking to us through you.

'Maybe not them, Edeard said, thinking of his dreams. 'But I can hardly deny what I can do, whoever gave me the gift. And I promise you, I'll do what I think is right with it. And if any of you disagree, then for the Lady's sake tell me. He looked down at their unconscious captive. 'Which brings us back to him. Who is he?

'The families have their own methods of maintaining order in the city, Macsen said. 'After all, they could hardly rely on the constables, now could they? Not before the Waterwalker came along.

Dinlay bridled. 'The constables have always brought law and order to Makkathran. We were established by Rah himself.

'Rah allowed District Masters to police their districts, Macsen replied equitably. 'Independent citywide constables weren't introduced until a lot later.

Edeard held a hand up to silence a glowering Dinlay. 'You're saying there's another police force in Makkathran?

Macsen shook his head. 'That's too strong a word. The true Grand Families are as old as the city; as soon as they established themselves they sought methods of consolidating their interests. Families have their own guards, for instance, they also have clerks, lawyers, doctors; a long list of employees to cover every requirement. Well there are also people who look after political interests, too, which is a very broad-ranging term. You've seen the grandest families are not subject to intimidation by the gangs. There estates are immune. Why is that?

'Because they work with them? Edeard asked.

'No no, you're thinking too literally. There is an understanding, nothing formal, nobody ever sat round a table and thrashed out boundaries. But the families take care of themselves at every level. If a gang was ever stupid or arrogant enough to overstep the mark, then certain members of the family would put a stop to the violation straight away, and in a fashion the gangs would comprehend.

'But… Mirnatha, Edeard said.

'Yeah. The biggest shock to hit this city since our day.n Birmingham Pool. I hate to say it, but: cause and effect.

'Are you one of them? Dinlay asked. 'One of these family agents?

'No.

'You seem to know a lot about them.

'Actually, I don't. One of my father's cousins hinted a couple of times that there was a group of relatives that might be interested in welcoming me as an associate. That was as far as it ever got. Father died, and well, you all know how my family treated mother and myself after that.

'It makes a lot of sense, Edeard said. 'Except I think it's mow than a vague accord as far as some families are concerned. I know from personal experience that the Gilmorns are heavily involved with Buate's organization.

Macsen nodded down at the man Edeard's third hand was still holding. 'There have been two well-executed attempts to get rid of you. They won't stop now, especially as your abilities still seem to be growing.

Edeard thought back to that last conversation with Ivarl. 'You may be right. In which case we're not leading events the way we thought we were.

'Welcome to Makkathran, Macsen said.

'Where it's always about politics.

'Good, you're starting to understand.

Edeard inhaled through his nostrils. 'So what do we do about our friend here?

'The ge-eagles have shown the family agents that you possess their lightning trick, Kanseen said. 'And you can plainly see through concealment now. The next time they come after you, it's going to be with everything they've got.

'That didn't answer my question.

'Why, what were you planning on doing with him?

'I don't know. I just disabled him because I had to.

'He won't crack under interrogation, Macsen said. 'He has too much faith in his own kind. That doesn't leave us with a lot of options.

'There's a place I can put him where there is no way out, Edeard said, wondering if Macsen was testing him. 'That will serve until we can decide what to do.

'Sounds good.

When Edeard rejected Finitan's offer of an apprenticeship with the city's Eggshaper's Guild, he'd done so in the conviction that his skill was a match for any of the practitioners in the Blue Tower. Now, looking at the tiny ge-mouse nestling in his hand, he knew how conceited he'd been that day when he'd made his life-changing decision. The little creature was no bigger than the length of his fingers, its dark pelt as soft as any terrestrial kitten, and the three curving talons extended from each twig-like leg were sharp and hard, enabling it to scamper vertically up most of the walls in the city. But it's head was the true marvel, sprouting long ears that could hear a pin drop within thirty yards, while the eyes were miniatures of those indigo-tinged orbs belonging to ge-eagles, allowing it to see clearly in the dead of night.

Finitan had handed it over with a little smirk of satisfaction. 'At least you'll appreciate my efforts. Kindly look after my creation with care.

'Yes, sir, Edeard had said reverentially as he gingerly held the ge-mouse up, automatically soothing its agitated mind with balmy thoughts. Little eyes regarded him passively, and a sliver of trust manifested behind them. Edeard smiled back.

'Ah, what an apprentice you would have made, Finitan said wistfully.

'What's its lifetime?

'Sadly, no more than a week.

Edeard felt a pang of sympathy, but he understood how that was so. He'd never seen a genistar this small before; and their lifespan was always proportional to size.

His admiration for the Grand Master's ability rose considerably. He had no idea how to go about sculpting such a thing. For a start, it was almost smaller than a two-week ge-dog embryo, which led to some interesting hatching questions. Akeem had always said that a standard ge-cat was the smallest possible genistar.

When Edeard and the squad arrived underneath the house in Sampalok that Buate was holding court in, he'd taken the little-thing from his pocket and held it aloft. The city lifted it up from the tunnel to the lower cellar. Edeard longtalked into its mind, carefully directing it under the cellar door, and up the stairs to the mid-cellar. Its claws had to scrape at the hard city substance, finding minute crinkles to grip as it hauled itself up every curving shelf. There were two guards standing in the short, gloomy corridor above the stairs, both of them with pistols tucked into their belts. Neither of them noticed the ge-mouse scurrying past. Nor the man who was wrapped in concealment that Edeard perceived standing just inside the door.

Buate was already in the room with eight other gang lords. They sat around a big old table, with bottles of wine and beer opened before them. The ge-mouse squeezed behind a tall cupboard in the corner, and scaled the ancient wood silently, emerging on to the top where someone had left a set of aged china crockery. From there it gifted Edeard its sharp sight and accompanying sound of the angry voices.

Edeard shared the perception with the squad as they leaned against the tunnel wall far below the cellar floor.

'That's Gormat and Edsing, Dinlay said. 'And that's Joarwel; he's shaved his beard off, look.

'Are you sure? Kanseen asked.

'Yes.

'He's right, Boyd said. 'No one has reported seeing him for a couple of weeks, that's why. He's a smart one, that.

'I know Hallwith and Coyce, Macsen said. 'But I don't recognise the others.

Two more men arrived, giving Buate and the others a curt greeting.

'So why are we here? Joarwel asked.

'Because we're hurting, Buate said. 'For all we tell our men how everything is all right, that bastard Waterwalker is shutting us down one street at a time.

'I don't need to be told that, one of the unknowns said. 'Thirty years I lived in my house, then some child constable comes along waving that Lady-fucking exclusion warrant in my face. It was all I could do not to shoot the smug little shit on sight. Thirty years!

'It's going to get worse, Buate said. 'He's planning to arrest us all.

'There aren't that many jails.

'Not the men, just us. He's making a list; there's going to be a hundred of us on it."

'Shit, Macsen grunted. 'How did he find that out?

Edeard shrugged. He wasn't surprised.

'Arrest us for what? Coyce demanded. 'I've barely made enough to feed myself this year. Three of my boys have gone and got themselves jobs in theatres for the Lady's sake.

'For nothing, Buate said. 'He's not going to charge us, just hold us.

'What's the fucking point?

'Because he can hold us for twenty-two days. That's the law.

'Twenty-two days!

'Leading up to the election, Buate said significantly. 'Without us, he thinks our men will fall apart.

'Scumfucking bastard, we should slit his throat.

'No. Slit his girl's throat and make him watch, then burn him alive. That's what we did to that grocer in Zelda. Didn't have no trouble from the shopkeepers after that.

'Waterwalker's right, Edsing said. 'Without us to hold it together, we'll be left with nothing.

'Less than that, Buate told them. 'If Finitan wins, we'll be thrown out of Makkathran.

'Then what are we going to do about it? Hallwith shouted. 'He can't win, this is Makkathran.

'There have been several attempts to kill and ruin him. Yet he still walks the streets unharmed. He has powers we don't.

'Are you saying he is Rah? Edsing asked. 'That's the talk wherever I go.

'Stupid superstition. He is an orphan from Rulan province, nothing more. I know this is true. His strength, though, is formidable.

'They say the Pythia favours him.

'I don't give a fuck what the Pythia favours. Our problem is not spiritual, it's very real. We are going to jail, and then we arc going to be exiled to some Lady-foresaken island for the rest of our lives.

Hallwith's fist smashed down on the table. 'We get it! Now tell us what we have to do?

'Fight him, every one of us. That's all we have left. When they come to carry us off to the cells, we fight, because if we don't our life is over. We shoot every constable, burn every warehouse, sink the gondolas and the ships in the port. We show Makkathran that we are just as strong as the Waterwalker, and far more deadly.

'But we cannot stand against him, Coyce said. 'They threw him off the top of a tower, and he flew. Bullets are useless. I was there that night in the House of Blue Petals when your brother ambushed him. He's immortal. Lady! Maybe he is Rah.

'The next one of you who says that, I will slit your throat, Buate said. 'This is part of his strength, to cast doubt among us. Yes he is strong, but he is one. One! While he comes for me, a thousand of us will rampage across the city. He cannot stop us all. That is our strength. And when they see what their precious Waterwalker has kindled, the people of this city will howl for his blood. It is he who will suffer banishment, and we will party in the Culverit mansion that night. Now you will go home, and you will arm yourselves, and you will select targets, and when him and that squad of his knocks on our door, you will open the gates of Honious to them.

The squad took their usual table in Olivan's Eagle. They sat staring at their beer glasses, saying nothing; morose thoughts leaking through impoverished shields.

'Do you think they'll do it? Dinlay asked.

'Most likely, Kanseen said. 'We've pushed them back and back. Hurt them just like Buate said. What have they got to lose?

'We just have to snatch them quickly and quietly, Boyd said.

'A hundred separate arrests? Kanseen said. 'Remember our raid on the fisherman's warehouse? Most of the city knew about it half a day early. Buate has been clever, he's priming them ready. It'll take one arrest to kick the whole thing off.

'Then we do it tomorrow at first light, Dinlay said. 'They're not organized yet. There were only ten of them there, Buate's orders won't have got any further tonight. We grab him first, then get the other district stations to pull in the rest of the list.

'We're not ready either, Edeard said. Rushing into the arrests was the first thing he'd thought of. 'It'll take us at least a couple of days to organize things with the station captains.

'I think it's safe to assume Buate's riot and destruction scheme won't have the support of the Grand Families, Boyd said. 'Maybe their agents would like to help us?

'Not a chance, Macsen said in a disgusted tone. 'To them, we remain the problem; without us Buate wouldn't be planning this. We are the source.

Edeard took a deep drink of his beer. 'They know what we're planning, and we know what they're planning. But they don't know we know.

Dinlay growled in dismay, clasping his hands to his head. 'Don't start that again.

'It's our only advantage, Edeard said. 'We have to think how to use it.

'How? Kanseen asked.

'I don't know, Edeard said miserably.

'Buate doesn't have a plan, Macsen said. 'Not really. This is instinct kicking in. And it's a good instinct, I'll admit that. If we don't make the arrests, he'll still try to wreck the city and kill the constables when the Council passes the banishment edict. He's got nothing left. Mass confrontation is his last shot to stay in the city. It's the only way he can make the Upper Council back off.

'How do we turn a riot to our advantage? Boyd asked. 'I don't see it, I really don't.

Edeard wished he knew how to answer, to show his friends some leadership. He'd settle for a single strategy. Instead all he-could do was stare into his beer and pray to the Lady for some kind of inspiration. And she was going to have to be quick about it.

The room was a simple cube measuring ten yards to a side, with a single light circle on the ceiling. One corner had a high bed, with the same stiff spongy mattress found on every Makkathran bed. A second corner had a small washing pool, where water circulated constantly. The third had a simple pedestal that served as a toilet. The fourth was empty. There was no door. Slits near the ceiling let fresh air flow through.

Farsight couldn't penetrate through the walls or floor or ceiling, they were all too thick. No sound carried in. The light circle did not respond to any command to dim or brighten, it remained constant.

The room's single occupant had spent the first day walking about, examining every square inch with his farsight, sliding his fingertips over the walls, looking for cracks, some hint of the way in — and out. He found nothing. Nor could he longshout for help, the thickness of the walls prevented that.

When he woke up to find himself in his not-too-unpleasant cell there were three plates on the floor in the centre of the room. They had bread and butter and two types of cheese, some slices of cold beef, fruit, and a rather nice apricot tart. He munched his way through the food during the day. On occasion he did a series of press ups, then sit ups. Several times he tried shouting to his captors. Pleas or insults it made no difference, there was no reply.

Eventually, the light circle dimmed down to the faintest orange glow. He waited for a while, then gave in and lay on the bed. It took a long time for him to go to sleep.

Eight hours later, the light strengthened. It revealed three new plates of food on the floor. Of the old ones there was no sign.

So began his second uneventful day.

At midday, Edeard slid up through the floor. The man was sitting on the bed at the time, eating some sweet green grapes. He stared in fascination at the way the floor around Edeard seemed to remain solid, his farsight examining it keenly.

'Now that really is impressive, Waterwalker, he said with a rueful grin, and popped another grape in his mouth.

'Thank you, Edeard said. 'And you are?

'Who I am doesn't matter.

'It might to your wife, or children.

'Not married. Thankfully. Too quick on my feet. But congratulations on your engagement. Quite a catch, young Kristabel.

'Why were you following us?

The man glanced at his chest, fingering the scorch mark on his indigo shirt. 'Just going about my business, officer. I wasn't following anyone. Someone assaulted me and I woke up in here.

'Yes. That was me. Sorry about the shirt. It's a nice one. Where would I get one like that?

'A coastal town called Chelston. It's north of here. Several days' sailing in a strong wind.

'You do understand that I won't let you out of here until I get some answers?

'What happens when you don't get them? Do you try and beat them out of me?

'No, of course not. You just stay here until you answer to my satisfaction. Apparently isolation is quite an effective method of encouraging cooperation. Edeard glanced round the underground chamber which the city had converted for him. 'I'm not sure isolation is supposed to be quite as comfortable as this, but I'm a bit vague on the method. Sorry about that.

'Asking tough questions in Makkathran is usually a little different, the man admitted too casually. 'It normally involves blades and fire and heartsqueeze and lungsqueeze. Only the Waterwalker could come up with an interrogation as strange as this one.

'But you know it's going to work. You're already getting disturbed by the confinement, I can tell. So why don't you skip the whole unpleasant part and tell me what I need to know, then I can let you out of here.

'Where exactly is here, Waterwalker?

'The constable station in Jeavons.

'You're a poor liar.

'I know. Everyone tells me I can't shield my thoughts the way you cityborn can. I leave too much emotion visible.

The man popped down another grape and grinned. 'You're getting better.

'Really? Have we met before?

'Everyone knows you, Waterwalker.

'But not everyone is frightened of me.

'I'm not frightened.

'Your family is, otherwise you wouldn't be following me round.

'I told you, I have no family. Wrong place, wrong time, that's me.

'Why do they fear me?

'I know nothing of such things.

'But if you had to guess?

'That voyage I took up to Chelston, it's a standard run for the captain. He knows the route, knows what to look out for. He's sailed it all his life, as did his father before him, and his father before that, and so on back to the day the ship fell from the sky. It's a route that keeps him and his family clothed and fed and comfortable; it is their life. It's a route that works. How do you think he would feel if one day a reef suddenly appeared in the water ahead of him and threatened to rip the keel off his ship?

'A smart captain would know how to steer round it.

'His ship is very large, and extremely heavily laden. It doesn't turn easily.

'I don't suppose it does, not with people like you holding it on course. But you never know, those waters on the other side of the reef, they might be easy to sail in.

The man shook his head and sighed. 'How can anyone so naive get so far in this city? It is a mystery I doubt even the Lady can fathom.

'Some say the Lady has chosen me to repeat her message to this world.

'How wonderful, are you really going to claim that you are Rah reincarnated?

'No. Because we both know I'm not.

'Ah well, at least you're not declaring you have a divine right to wreck a society that's worked for two thousand years. That's some comfort to me, I suppose.

'I'm marrying Kristabel, who is a greater part of this city than a dozen minor families like yours. Do you really think I will destroy everything her family has built? It is to be my family.

'Minor families? You think attempting to anger me will cause me to slip my guard?

'Does it anger you? The really great families will hardly be bothered by the return to law and order. But you, you're what? Something like a fifth son of a fourth son of a third son? Your branch of the family must have been kicked out of that fabulous mansion a long time ago. Do you look at it enviously every time you walk past? Do you hear the laughter coming over the wall? And now your father is what? Some market trader with delusions of grandeur? I bet he doesn't pay all his taxes. Is that the only way you can keep paying the bills in your new little house? It that why you only have enough coinage to dress as pretty as one of Kristabel's foot servants? Is that why you joined this woeful little association of thugs, so you could fool yourself you're part of the Grand Families again?

'Really, Waterwalker, I expected better. But you are very young, aren't you? I remain to be convinced you have what it takes to see this to the bitter end. For it will be very bitter indeed.

'As far as you are concerned, the end has already passed you by. When banishment is enacted, you will be escorted from the city. You will not return. Ever.

'Unless you're claiming a timesense greater than our beloved Pythia, you cannot speak of the future. So I'll just wait here to see how it plays out, thank you.

Edeard tilted his head on one side to regard his unnervingly suave opponent curiously. He hadn't been expecting anything quite this difficult. 'Were you one of the four on the tower? Edeard had returned to the base of the tower three times since he fell, examining the city's memories of that day. He'd felt the footsteps of his four assailants on the staircase winding up the centre three hours before the pistol exchange, but try as he might he simply couldn't backtrack them successfully. They came from a large crowd of worshippers attending the afternoon service at the church, several hundred people milling around together. It was too confusing to single out one set of feet. And, of course, after he fell no one knew what actually happened on the top of the tower until he regained consciousness. Even then he'd only told his friends. So no attempt had been made to apprehend the mysterious foursome when they scurried back down in the middle of the confusion and panic that raged around the base of the tower for well over an hour.

The man smiled. It was a harsh expression. 'When you fell, you thought it would be to your death. You didn't know you were going to live. That is our greatest concern. Who helps you, Waterwalker, and why?

'The universe helps those who lead a good life. It says so right there in the Lady's scriptures.

'Answer me that one question, and I will answer all of yours.

Edeard gave a weary shake of his head. 'You will stay in here until you cooperate. I don't imagine it will take long. Isolation is an evil foe. And you are as isolated as it is possible to be on this world.

'Do you truly believe you have time on your side?

'We will see whose ally time really is. I'll be back. Eventually. He told the floor to let him through, and sank away.

The financial courts were situated in the middle of Parliament House, running along the south side of First Canal. The nine horseshoe arch bridges connecting the buildings on both sides of the water were so thick, containing whole suites of rooms, that they essentially formed a tunnel over the little canal. Because of that, light inside the courts was supplied almost entirely from the concave octagons decorating the vaulted ceilings. They might as well have been underground for all the difference the high slit windows made, looking out into the shadowed cavity beneath the bridges. The dusky lighting certainly added to the general sense of gloom pervading the eighth court when Edeard crept in quietly at the back of the semi-circular chamber. It wasn't laid out like a law court. Instead, long tables were arranged in tiers, with the tax investigator at a round table at their centre. Lamps were lit on the ends of each table, jamolar oil producing pools of yellow light across the untidy stacks of paper and files. To Edeard's first glance it was as though paper had come alive to breed faster than drakkens. There couldn't be so many accounts relating to the House of Blue Petals. But each table had at least two clerks sitting at it. They were all dressed the same, in shirts and waistcoats. Most seemed to be wearing spectacles. None were under fifty.

The tax inspector's waistcoat was lined with silver, otherwise there was no way of distinguishing between him and his fellow Guild members. He would consult a page from a very large ledger, and ask a question relating to income or expenditure. Then Buate's team of clerks would mutter among themselves and go through files and books before producing receipts or affidavits, and offering an explanation as to how the money was spent or received. At which point the clerks retained by the Mayor's Inspector General would counter the claim, producing different bits of paper, or an entry in the ledger of the business concerned that was different to Buate's contention.

After listening to the evidence, the inspector would write laboriously in his ledger, and move on to the next question.

Three years' worth of records were subject to investigation. Every day's purchase of drinks had to be accounted for. Three years of the House of Blue Petals buying and cleaning bed linen. Three years of genistar husbandry. Three years of replacement mats behind the bar. Three years of crockery, acquisitions and breakages and depreciation and amortization. Three years of the girls' cosmetics and hair styling. Three years of hairclip acquisition, each batch meticulously recorded and queried.

Buate sat at a table at the far side of the court. His shoulders slumped, eyes glazed, his skin paler than the drab lighting could shade. He looked up as Edeard walked in. His expression of misery slowly changed, as if his facial muscles were regaining strength, hardening his cheeks and jaw into a look of pure fury.

Edeard met it without flinching as the inspector demanded to know about higher than normal expenditure on smoked toco nuts on the sixth Thursday of June two years ago. Buate never shifted his gaze from Edeard while his clerks struggled to produce receipts for the jars.

In the end, it was Edeard who looked away first. He could barely believe it, but he was close to feeling sorry for Buate. Theirs was an epic struggle for the soul of an entire city, it should be fought out there on the streets and along the canals, followers slugging it out with fists and third hands, while their political masters plotted and schemed in Council. Not this. This was inhuman.

And I did it to him.

Edeard bowed his head to look at his boots; every inch the little boy at the back of the class struggling not to giggle. He hurried out of the finance court, then stopped in the cloister and laughed out loud. Clerks in their drab claret and olive-green waistcoats stared at him disapprovingly.

'Sorry, Edeard said to them and their Guild in general. He made an effort to compose himself, then walked on towards Centre Circle Canal. He could do that. He could leave the court after a good laugh. Good gloat, if I'm honest. Buate couldn't. Buate had to stay there for six hours every day, as he had done for ten days now. And the investigation was likely to last another eight days at least, Edeard had been told.

If only we could do this to each of the hundred. We'd have broken them by now. We wouldn't need banishment, they'd have fled screaming through the city gates long ago.

But this kind of financial scrutiny was reserved for the larger city businesses that were constantly cheating taxes. The Chief Constable had to press hard with the inspector General for an

Inspector to launch his formal examination of Buate's accounts. It had used up a great deal or time, and cost far more than it would ever produce in fines. Worst of all, the clerks still hadn't found any tangible link between Buate and Ranalee's family. Of course, that didn't really matter; he was just using the tax investigation as a major irritant against Buate while the Jeavons constables built up the One Hundred list. But a proven link would have been nice.

Edeard left the merged domes of the Parliament Building behind and crossed over the delicate white-wire bridge of Centre Circle Canal. The patch of land ringed by the little canal was too small to rate as a district, people just called it Rah's garden. A small green oasis in the middle of government's commotion. He walked along simple paths lined by tall perfectly shaped flame-yews. Roses were throwing out their first blossoms of the season, releasing a gentle scent into the still air. Several freshwater ponds were joined together by small streams, crossed by small brick humpback bridges. As he went across them he could see big emerald and scarlet fish gliding around smoothly; they seemed to regard him slyly as he went by.

On the other side of Rah's garden the rear of the Orchard Palace rose before him, higher than any of the domes behind. Captain Larose was waiting for him at the bottom of the broad symmetrical perron that led up into the palace. Edeard straightened his dress jacket, though it was something of a lost cause beside the captain's ceremonial uniform.

'Waterwalker.

'Just you today, Captain?

'Fraid so, old chap. Inside the palace I'm naught but a humble guide.

'Then guide me in, please.

They ascended the three levels of the perron and went in through a high arching door. Five long cloisters led away from the hallway.

'Congratulations, by the way, Larose said. 'Kristabel's a fine catch.

'Thank you.

'I met her myself a few times. Obviously I didn't make much of an impression.

Edeard thought it best to let that one slide past.

'Did you really farsight Sergeant Chae's soul?

'Yes. Edeard had finally learned to stop sighing as he answered that question twenty times a day. It was disrespectful.

'That must put life into perspective, eh?

'Death isn't quite so frightening, but that doesn't mean that life shouldn't be celebrated.

'You are an extraordinary fellow, the captain declared as they emerged into the Malfit Hall. Edeard could well imagine the captain reading A Gentleman's Guide to Marriage and hanging off every word.

They passed into the Liliala Hall where Edeard stopped to regard the ceiling with the same astonishment as the first time he'd seen the images in Malfit Hall. The storm swirled silently above him; light flickered all around, casting strange-angled shadows as lightning bolts zipped through the clouds. Then Alakkad slipped through a breach in the scudding clouds. A smooth black ball of a world, threaded with hundreds of glowing red lines as vast rivers of lava surged along the surface.

'I never knew this was here, an enchanted Edeard said, craning his neck as he tried to see the entire ceiling at once. 'Can you see all of Gicon's bracelet?

'You know your astronomy.

'Some of it. We had a very old telescope in the Guild hall where I grew up. My Master enjoyed watching the skies. He always said he was trying to see if another ship was on its way to Querencia. I think he was actually watching for Skylords.

'Indeed. Well, if you wait long enough you'll see all the worlds in the bracelet.

Clouds surged back across Alakkad. Edeard would have loved to linger. The bracelet was always his favourite feature in the night sky, five small planets rotating around each other, orbiting further out from the sun than Querencia itself. The ancient telescope had never shown him Alakkad in such detail. He wondered how Vili would look in here, or the Mars twins.

Larose led him through into the series splendid chambers that made up the Mayor's private rooms. Owain was waiting in the oval sanctum, sitting behind the largest desk Edeard had ever seen. He wondered what on Querencia could be in all the drawers, but held back from probing with his farsight.

'Waterwalker, Owain said with a genuine smile. 'My full and sincere congratulations on this day. You're a very lucky man.

'Thank you, sir. It appeared the whole city was pleased for him and Kristabel.

Owain waited until Larose left. 'First off, allow me to apologise profusely for the episode in Eyrie.

'Sir?

'Those Lady-damned pistols. My Guild has held them in safekeeping for over a thousand years. They are perhaps our most closely guarded secret. How they came to be removed is still a mystery. Even if you managed to get them out of the vault, there are guards, locks… It should be impossible. It has been impossible, until now.

'Do you know who was responsible? Ronark and Doral had interrogated all the gang members they'd apprehended that night, but they were nothing more than couriers; no one knew the actual source of the guns, the man who was offering them for sale.

'We think we've identified the principal thief, Owain said. 'Though he has of course conveniently vanished. I'm shamed to say he was one of my Guild's senior journeyman, a man called Argian.

'I don't recall the name.

'Studious man, destined to be a Master, though perhaps not to sit on the Guild council itself. Here, Owain gifted his image.

Edeard was quite proud of the way he held his composure, shield firm, no sense of surprise leaking out. 'Argian' was the man he was currently holding in the underground cell. 'I'll let the constable stations know, the patrols can watch for him.

'Good man. Though 1 suspect he's left the city. Betraying us in such a despicable fashion carries a heavy penalty. He must have known that. I hope they paid him well.

'Yes, sir. Edeard was desperately trying to work out connections. It was inevitable that the family agents would have someone inside the Weapons Guild, and probably every other Guild come to that. It would be easy now to find Argian's family — who would never acknowledge any association, especially as they would know he was being held by the Waterwalker.

'But let us ignore that today, Owain said. 'This is your day, yes. A time to be joyful.

Edeard forced a grin.

'Don't worry, Waterwalker. This next part is just a formality. You know it's considered bad form to vote against a Consent act. We're long past such barbarity.

'Thank you, sir.

'It will be my pleasure to allow Julan to introduce it. So, are you ready?

'I think so.

'Well, I am. You and Kristabel will make a fine couple. And don't repeat this, but it never hurts to shake things up a bit. If you ask me the Grand Families are becoming somewhat jaded these days. Someone like you in their ranks is just what they need.

Edeard slid smoothly through the floor of the cell to find Argian pacing round and round the room. The man was getting jittery. He was starting to talk to himself. It had started with little mutters on the morning of the third day, progressing to full sentences. The cell walls relayed both the images and the sound to Edeard. It wasn't very revealing.

'Well, we knew it wasn't going to be simple.

'That much support, it's difficult to break.

'Should we actually let him do it?

'If he marries her, he might pull back. Lorin's said before that he's besotted. Pity Ranalee didn't succeed, that would have been the answer to everything. Stupid bitch.

As he was eating his egg sandwiches for lunch: 'Poison. Not a fast one, something that would take weeks. Months. Yes yes. Months. No one would suspect then.

'Faster faster. The election might be the killer. Riots will make them think twice. Kristabel. It all rests on Kristabel. She's young. Foolish. But she understands family. She might. She might.

'We're right. We're right, though. Yes we are. His blood will pass to all of us.

'How does he do it? How?

Argian was gnawing on this thumb as Edeard emerged. He stopped immediately, shoving his hand behind his back with a guilty expression.

'Your clothes are getting a little creased, Edeard said pleasantly. 'I thought you might like some clean ones. He held out the bundle of neatly folded shirts and socks he'd brought, with a jar of soap flakes and a flannel on top.

'Thank— Argian broke off, staring at them.

'Found them in your room, Edeard said.

Argian made a polite bow of defeat. 'Very clever.

'Not really, Argian. I'm afraid it was Owain himself who gave me your name. Would you believe, you're the only official suspect for the theft of special pistols from the Weapons Guild.

'Owain?

'Yes.

'No.

'Yes. They've thrown you to the fastfoxes. I visited your mother. She's quite distressed by the allegations. I told her I thought you'd left the city. Best not to give her too much hope when it comes to ever seeing you again.

'I find all this highly dubious.

'Really, I thought they were being quite clever. Your friends obviously know I'm holding you, so they simply make sure I can charge you with a crime that involves the death of a constable. And there we are: suddenly you're no longer a problem. Was that part of the agreement when you signed up? Sacrifice yourself if you get caught? But then I don't suppose your kind ever did get caught before I came along, did you?

Argian sat on the side of the bed, and gave Edeard a brittle grin. 'I'm not telling you anything.

'You know, I'd made journeyman by the time I was seventeen, Edeard said. 'You're what? Forty-eight isn't it? And still only a journeyman. No wonder you had to steal those pistols from a vault. I'd hate to use one you'd made.

'I believe we've already established that provoking me doesn't work.

'Yes. Actually, I don't think you ever were a journeymen, not really. I think it's just a tenure that gives you a facade of respectability.

'Oh well done. You actually worked something out for yourself. Or did your friend Macsen the bastard have to explain it to you?

'Provoking me is not a good idea. I don't have your restraint.

Argian held his hands wide. 'Do your worst. Oh yes, this is your worst, isn't it?

'Not by any means. But I'm not in any rush.

'I wouldn't count on that, Waterwalker.

'Care to elaborate?

'No.

'I see, Edeard sighed. 'Well, I can't stay, I have to get ready for my engagement party. And Kristabel needs calming down.

'Why?

'There was one Master who didn't sign the Consent bill.

'Bise, Argian said quickly.

'Yes. Apparently he hates me enough to commit the sin of bad form.

'Shocking.

'Well, it's not me he has to worry about. As I've discovered today, Honious has no fury like a woman upset during her wedding arrangements.

'Poor Bise.

'I'm not sure when I'll be back. We have a lot of parties to attend.

Argian's self-control faltered. He gave Edeard a disconcerted look. 'You're really going to leave me in here?

'Not quite. This isn't working as well as I'd hoped. And I need it to work. I have to know exactly who I'm up against. You're the key to that.

Just for a moment a flicker of hope crossed Argian's face. Then Edeard dropped away through the floor.

'Lady damn you! Argian shouted after him. His clenched fists rose to the ceiling. He froze as a tiny motion caught his eye. The walls were moving. 'No, he breathed. The cell was shrinking. He put his hands against the nearest wall, and started to push, adding his third hand to his efforts. 'No. There was nothing he could do to prevent the inexorable motion. 'No! No no. Stop it. He realized the ceiling was lowering as well.

'NOOO!

Makkathran's opera house formed the heart of Lillylight District. A vast palatial sprawl which merged into the Manor of Octaves, where the Guild of Musicians was housed. When humans first moved into Makkathran they'd found a vast indoor amphitheatre, whose giant tiered ledges had a curvature impossible for humans to sit on comfortably. The lower half of the encircling wall comprised huge mullion windows of rectilinear tracery, and unusually for the city their crystal was coloured, sending out great rainbow beams to intersect the central stage. Above that, a thousand long white and violet stalagmites hung from the domed ceiling, as if it was the inside of some massive geode. As night fell, the spires fluoresced with the city's ubiquitous orange light. Grand Families had long ago staked their claim on various sections of the tiered ledges, and commissioned carpenters to construct elaborate benches. Over time, the benches had been walled off with carved panelling, producing snug private boxes.

They also steadily expanded back over the ledges, as Edeard discovered when he had to worm his way behind the boxes that cluttered the second tier to reach the Culverit family enclave. Kristabel, whose magenta satin gown had a wide flaring skirt, struggled to keep the obligatory smile on her face as she followed him along.

'I always forget how cramped it is back here, she complained.

'We could always walk along the top of the boxes, Edeard said cheerfully.

Her smile vanished. He kept quiet until they reached the Culverit box.

Inside, it was decorated in velvet and lace, with eight luxurious leather cushioned chairs along the front. Three servants were already there, preparing wine and fruit in their small panelled off section at the back. One of them took Kristabel's silk wool wrap. Edeard gave him his cloak, very self conscious of the gilded turquoise jacket and smoke-grey trousers he was wearing. Then he realized that no one could actually see into the box, and relaxed.

'That's better, Kristabel declared, as she settled in the central chair with a relieved sigh.

Edeard sat next to her. It was like being on a throne, with an excellent view of the flat circular stage across the top of the boxes on the ledge below. Seclusion hazes protected several boxes as their occupants gossiped before the show began, or entertained people they shouldn't. When he peered over the little balcony rail, Edeard saw the ancient Master of Cobara with his teenage mistress in tow, shuffling along the gap directly underneath.

'Don't you dare, Kristabel said.

'What? an injured Edeard asked.

'Ever do that to me, she responded, her index finger lined up on the Master's bad wig.

He leant over to kiss her, and realized the chairs were actually too far apart, so he had to get out and move over to her, which sort of wrecked the spontaneity. 'You are far too fabulously energetic in bed for me ever to even think of anyone else, he murmured into her ear.

'Behave. But there was a demure smile on her lips that he recognized all too well.

'You know, he said licking her ear lobe, 'no one can actually see in here.

'The musicians can.

'Ah. Edeard turned and faced the stage. The first musicians were starting to emerge from the staircase well in the centre, carrying their instruments with them. 'Spoilsports. His third hand hauled his chair right up next to hers, and he sat down again. 'You feeling better?

She nodded. 'Yes.

He'd never seen Kristabel so furious as that afternoon when Bise had contemptuously ignored the parchment as it passed along the long table in the Upper Council chamber for the signature of each Master. His refusal to sign the Consent bill had even appalled Owain, but he was immune to all remonstration. The Pythia herself couldn't get him to change his mind. So for the first time in three hundred and nineteen years a Consent to Marry bill was not approved unanimously.

It meant nothing to Edeard of course. But Kristabel was outraged. It was a slur on the entire Culverit family, not to mention her personally. After Owain had formally announced the Upper Council's majority approval, she'd stormed out of the Council chamber swearing revenge.

'He's an idiot, Edeard said as the musicians began to take their places. 'And he's on his way out.

'He's barely ninety, Kristabel said. 'He'll be sitting in Council for another century at least. And I'll be sitting in there with him.

'No you won't. I'll have him sentenced to the Trampello mines, you'll see. I'm working on a way to prove his connection to the gangs.

'Edeard, I love you dearly, but please, you really have to read up on the city's traditions and laws. Bise is a District Master, he can never stand trial in the law courts.

'What? Why not?

'Only the Masters of the Upper Council can try one of their own, for any crime. The exemption accountability law was supposed to stop frivolous litigation brought by anyone with a grudge.

'Oh. He tipped his head to one side and regarded her intently. 'How come you know that? As soon as he said it, he knew it had come out wrong.

'For your information, she said icily. 'Between the ages of fourteen and nineteen I used to spend ten hours a week studying law under Master Ravail of the Lawyers Guild. I could pass your constables' probation exams in my sleep.

'Right.

'Did you think me unschooled and ignorant?

'No.

'I am to be Mistress of an entire District. Do you have any idea of the responsibilities involved?

He took her hand, squeezing for emphasis. 'Yes, Kristabel.

'Sorry. She gave him a contrite smile.

'It's normally me that's saying that.

'I know. I'm just so cross with him.

'This is a battle fought at many levels.

'But at least with your level you get to see some results.

'Not really, he admitted, as the first discordant notes of the musicians warming up began to reverberate around the huge auditorium. He was surprised by how loud they were. It must be something to do with the spiky roof, he decided.

'I thought you'd just about got your Hundred, she said.

'We have. He started to tell her about Buate's strategy to fight back, to inflict so much damage on the city that the Councils would call for Edeard to end his campaign.

'Clever, she said when he finished. 'But inevitable. You've been very effective at curtailing his activities. This is what happens when you back people into a corner, they lash out.

'You think I shouldn't arrest the Hundred?

'The thing about elections is they're unpredictable. Your idea to crush the gang leadership beforehand is excellent. You show people what life would be like if Finitan gets to pass his banishment act. But if you don't arrest them, things stay as they are, or worse Buate starts a rumour that you're too afraid to act, and the vote could well go Owain's way.

'Owain will support me; he told me himself.

'Yes, but only as it applies through his One Nation manifesto. And for what it's worth, I think Finitan is right, we need to consolidate the city before we try to help the provinces.

'So what do I do?

'You can't allow a city-wide riot. That goes against everything you are as a constable. It has to be stopped.

'Easily said. How?

'Sometimes you have to do what's wrong in order to do what's right.

'I know that. I even considered snatching the top gang lords and holding them in isolation, but it always comes down to the same thing: there aren't enough of us, not for that kind of work. I could only ever get two or three of them before the word would get out, and that's the trigger for the riot. I just don't see how it can be stopped.

'You're probably right, so you have to try and contain it; and I know just the place.

'Where?

'Sampalok.

'Oh, Lady.

'No. He's the one who champions the gangs. He provides them with sanctuary, he even excluded you from the district. Well, it's about time he realized there's a price to pay for collaboration.

'How in the Lady's name do I confine the riot to Sampalok?

'If that's where the rioters are, that's where the riot will be. Push them in there, Edeard. Use their own tactics to defeat them.

'But…

'That's wrong? she asked archly. 'Edeard, if you want to win you have to play to win. You're the Waterwalker. There's no one else going to do this.

'Yes, he said meekly as the conductor appeared on stage. Applause began to ripple round the auditorium. 'I know.

'The pistols were easy to obtain. A key was provided, the guards that night were ones who knew not to ask questions.

'A key? You mean for the vault?

'Yes. Actually, you need five keys to get through three doors, and the combination numbers. The locks are impossible to pick with telekinesis, there are too many parts to manipulate simultaneously.

'Who gave you the keys?

'Warpal told me where a set would be left. The combinations were with them.

'So Warpal is your leader?

'There is no leader. We are simply people who agree on what must be done to maintain a basic level of order in the city.

'Sons of Grand Families?

'People who share a background of good family and breeding, who have the same understanding of life. It is nothing like as formal as you think.

'But somebody must organize it.

'Not really. We support each other and the final rule of law.

'You protect the families from the gangs?

'Precisely. And any other threats.

'So why haven't you got rid of the gangs?

'A criminal underclass is somewhat inevitable. As you're finding out, they're well organized. To defeat them we would first have to match them, and that's not what we do. We look after our own. If the lower classes want something done to stop the gangs, then that's up to them to do something.

'And yet when I came along and started to do exactly that, you tried to eliminate me. Why?

'You are more than a constable, a lot more. You have some power in this city which no one understands. And you have your own vision of law and order, a very rigid intolerant one. If you were to enforce that you would do untold harm to the families.

'I don't want to destroy anything.

'The road to Honious is paved with good intentions. Makkathran works perfectly well as it is.

'For the nobility perhaps. The gangs have grown too big and powerful under your lax rule. You let that happen. Makkathran doesn't work for everyone, and it must.

'We do what we can.

'Were you one of those who pushed me off the tower?

'Yes.

'Who else was there?

'Warpal, Merid, and Pitier.

'Who organized it?

'Warpal.

'And who told him to do that?

'That's not how we work.

'Nobody suddenly decides to do such a thing. There has to be someone in charge of you.

'Our older members offer guidance, that's all. They smooth the way into Guilds, provide us with additional funds, that kind of thing. They have ties to the family councils, so they're aware1 of problems emerging before the rest of city. That way we can be informed of such instances and deal with them discreetly. Our work is quiet and infrequent. Some of us are never called upon.

'So these older members control you?

'They guide and advise. We each have a mentor, they are the ones who initiate us in the Families' confidential arts.

'Like concealment?

'That is one of them, yes.

'Who is Warpal's mentor?

'Motluk is mentor to both Warpal and myself.

'Motluk?

'He's a junior Master in the Leatherworkers Guild.

'And which family does he come from?

'He is Altai's son. The fourth, I think.

'Altai?

'Altai is the third son of Carallo, who is a Diroal, the fifth son of the previous Master. Carallo is married to Karalee, third sister of Tannarl.

'A Diroal? Lady! You mean Diroal as in the District Masters of Sampalok?

'Yes.

The barrels were stored in a large Gilmorn warehouse on the edge of the Port District. Edeard enjoyed the irony in that as he got the city to change the floor they were stacked on. One by one the barrels fell into the tunnel beneath Tail Canal. Edeard's third hand scooped up eight of them, and they bobbed along through the air behind him as he walked the short distance along the curving tunnels under Myco's streets to stand beneath the House of Blue Petals.

With only a couple of hours left until dawn, it was still very dark inside the lounge as he and the barrels rose through the floor. His farsight found several people sleeping upstairs, including Buate who was sharing his bed with two of the house's girls. A more detailed scan couldn't find anyone using concealment lurking within the building.

Edeard sent three of the barrels drifting through the doorways leading off the wooden gallery. His third hand broke open their tops, and the thick jamolar oil inside spilled out along the corridors. Two more barrels were hoisted up to the top floor, drenching carpets and furniture in Buate's big study. Oil ran out under the door, washing down the corridors and stairs.

His longtalk prodded the minds of the slumbering ge-chimps in their little pen behind the kitchen. 'Go outside, he ordered them as he walked upstairs. They obediently shuffled silently out into the street.

His third hand broke open two of the barrels downstairs, leaving an intact one standing on top of the bar. Jamolar oil sluiced across the floor.

'Nostalgia, he muttered as he started up the stairs to the upper floor. He stood in front of the door to Buate's bedroom. His third hand plucked an ember from one of the stoves in the lounge, and dropped it.

Flame whooshed across the room. The furniture caught alight immediately, long flames licking round the bar. Within seconds, oil dripping down the stairs had ignited, sending flames ripping across the first floor. The fire followed the damp trail up the next flight of stairs, and blazed into the study.

Edeard smashed the bedroom door down, and strode into the room as flames leapt and danced behind him. Buate's sleep-befuddled head came up from the pillows. The girls cried out as they saw the black figure silhouetted in the doorway, his cloak rippling in the air like some living appendage. They clung to each other in fear.

'What the Ladyfuck— Buate gasped. His farsight was probing the building, finding fire everywhere.

'This establishment appears very accident prone, Edeard observed.

The barrel on the bar exploded. Doors shattered, letting in a huge squall of fresh air. Flames roared up to the roof of tin-lounge.

'If I was you I wouldn't come back here, not ever, Edeard said. 'In fact I doubt there's anywhere in this city where you'll be safe.

Flames trickled into the bedroom, flowing round Edeard's feet as they consumed the carpeting. His cloak flapped in agitation. Both girls whimpered, pressing themselves to tin-headrest. Smoke began to layer the air.

'You're dead, Waterwalker, Buate shouted.

'Warpal tried and failed. What chance have you got?

Buate stiffened at the mention of that name, causing Edeard to grin in amusement.

'Now get out of my city, take your people with you; and if you ever try to start your riot you will join your brother in the manner I mentioned during my previous visit. Final warning. He nodded politely to the girls. 'Ladies.

They screamed as his third hand lifted them into the air. Then the bedroom windows disintegrated, and they found themselves floating through the gap to descend gently on to the street below, where the house's ge-chimps were scampering about in considerable apprehension.

Buate watched their flight in astonishment. 'What about me? he yelled. But when he looked round, Edeard had gone. Flames licked hungrily at the base of the bed.

Edeard chose the middle of Golden Park at midnight. The huge plaza was empty, with nebula-light flickering off the tips of the white metal pillars that surrounded it. Only the faintest of shadows fell across the glossy cobbles as two dark figures appeared from nowhere.

'You are free to go, Edeard said with an expansive gesture.

'Go where, exactly? I am a wanted man. How long do you think I would last out there?

'Nobody will know you in the provinces.

'You believe I should join Nanitte? Argian asked with a show of bitter amusement. 'You are crueller than I thought, Waterwalker.

'I am more desperate than you know.

'Excuse me if I don't offer my undying sympathy.

'I need your help.

'I have given you everything I can. There is nothing left of me.

'I ask only that you do what you were trained to do. I ask that you keep your loyalty to this city.

'My time here is over. I have you to thank for that.

'Keep watch for me, see what your people are doing.

'That is not loyalty, that is betrayal.

'Not to the city. You are an honourable man at heart. You know something has to be done to rid us of the gangs, and pull back the excesses of the families. Things cannot carry on as they are, that will doom us all. Help me. If nothing else, be a moderating voice. If you truly fear I am too uncompromising, then stay and exert what influence you can on me.

'Me, influence you?

'You understand the true way things work. I would listen to your advice if it were to be given in good faith. Tell me how to achieve justice without alienating and ruining the best of that which is. Smooth the way. Do not let this city become divided by my blundering. Isn't that your calling?

'You seem to have missed your vocation.

'Was that a yes?

Argian sighed as if in great pain. 'After all you have done to me, you expect me to help you?

'I left you alone. That's all. If there were any demons in there with you, I didn't send them.

'It will take me a while to gather my things together. If I see anything detrimental before I leave, I may tell you.

'Thank you.

Felax raced into the small hall at the back of Jeavons constable station, very flustered and out of breath. 'Waterwalker, Master Gachet from the Guild of Lawyers is here! He's talking to the captain. He says he has a warrant for your arrest.

'Really? Edeard asked with interest.

'Honestly, the young constable assured him. 'I'm not joking.

'I'm sure you're not. His farsight caught a thoroughly disgusted Boyd handing over coinage to a smug Macsen. 'I'll he right there.

The squad stood up to leave.

'Everyone keep going, Edeard urged the other constable working at the benches. 'We're really close to a hundred now. I don't expect this nonsense to take more than a day.

He left the small hall with his friends. 'Ready?

Macsen grinned as the hall door closed behind them. 'Oh Lady, yes.

Edeard hurriedly pulled off his distinctive jacket. Macsen was already wearing Edeard's glossy boots, even though his feet were too large.

'Remember, Dinlay said pleadingly. 'Just don't say anything.

'Who me? Macsen asked as he buttoned up the jacket.

'Let's see it, Boyd said.

Macsen nodded, his mind betraying a brief flutter of nerves, then he concentrated. Shadows thickened around his face, turning him a malaised grey. Then they stretched and blurred.

Edeard held his breath while Dinlay grimaced in anticipation. The squad had practised this for a day, helping each other with ideas and techniques as they slowly developed the notion, refining and improving the original blanket concealment method. Surprisingly, it was Macsen who was the most capable. Edeard had assumed it would be Dinlay, who was always the studious one.

The shadows faded away from Macsen's face. Kanseen let out a little gasp of appreciation. Edeard shook his head in disbelief; he was staring at himself. His own face gave him an evil smile. 'How do I look? Actually, how do you look?

Dinlay let out a hiss of exasperation. 'Stop talking! It ruins it.

'Go! Boyd urged. 'We'll take it from here.

'Good luck, Edeard told them. The floor changed beneath him, and he sank into the tunnel below. His farsight tracked Macsen, Dinlay and Kanseen as they carried on to Captain Ronark's office.

Master Gachet was waiting there, along with two court officials.

'Waterwalker, Master Gachet said. 'I convey the compliments of my colleague Master Cherix, who says he will enjoy seeing you at the Courts of Justice where he will prosecute this case. He would be here himself, but there is the matter of an exclusion warrant against him.

'What's going on? Kanseen demanded.

'Master Gachet has a civil warrant, Captain Ronark said in disgust. 'It is genuine.

'Say nothing, Dinlay instructed. Macsen shrugged, keeping his counterfeit face perfectly composed.

'I'd like to see it, please. Dinlay held his hand out.

'You? Gachet asked in surprise.

'I am considering a career in law, Dinlay said. 'I will serve as Corporal Edeard's adviser until a registered lawyer can be appointed.

A hugely amused Gachet handed the warrant over.

'You've been named by Buate as an assailant, Dinlay read. 'You are also accused of arson against the House of Blue Petals.

'And are required to pay compensation to its owners for loss of business, Gachet mocked. 'Here's hoping your fiance is understanding, else you will be handing over your pay for the next hundred years.

'We'll get Master Solarin to deal with this, Dinlay said. 'He'll have the warrant invalidated within five minutes.

'Perhaps, Master Gachet said. 'Until then: officers, he gestured at the two court officials who looked dreadfully uncomfortable, 'attend to your duties.

'Go with them, Dinlay said.

The court officers stood nervously on either side of the Waterwalker, and escorted him out of the station, with Dinlay, Kanseen and Master Gachet accompanying them. Constables appeared along the corridor, to glower at the procession. Master Gachet did his best to ignore them, but the anger directed at him was intense.

It was a long walk across Jeavons to the Outer Circle Canal. Word was soon out that the Waterwalker had been arrested on Buate's connivance. People hurried out into the streets to sec Edeard being taken to the Courts of Justice. He smiled in that way he always did, but never spoke.

Edeard slid up through the floor of the house in Padua and cast off his concealment. His third hand was only holding one barrel of jamolar oil. It wasn't a big house. Edsing gasped in surprise as he appeared. Mirayse, his wife stiffened, rushing to their three children and clutching them protectively.

Edeard crushed the barrel. Oil sprayed out, streamers looping across the room to soak furniture. A long cascade rushed out of the door and split into three, with each strand washing through a bedroom.

Edeard stared unflinchingly at Edsing, hardening himself against the distressed whimpering of the children. 'You will leave this place, Edeard ordered. 'You will take those you command with you, or I will burn them out of their homes. Tell them that. Now go. The fire will start in half a minute.

Edsing lined a finger up on Edeard, his features wound up in a snarl. 'You—

'Twenty seconds.

'This is our life! Mirayse shouted.

'And it is now over, Edeard informed her. 'Fifteen seconds. He glanced pointedly at the children.

'Out out, she shrieked, and jostled them along.

Edsing let out a howl of frustration and anger before running after his family.

Edeard held his hand above his head, and sank away. Just before his fingers disappeared beneath the floor, a single spark spat out.

'There is a twofold error here my lords, Master Solarin said to the three judges hearing the application to dismiss. 'Firstly, I draw your attention to the malicious suit bill, with reference to its application for those employed by the city authority. The Waterwalker, as we know, is most prominent in the effort of ridding the city of actively violent criminals. Now, this campaign has caused a great deal of personal conflict between the Waterwalker and Buate, which my learned colleague knows full well.

'Objection! Master Cherix shouted.

Master Solarin chortled. 'Dear me, I hope I don't have to mention a recently dismissed case of aggravated psychic assault between my client and the prosecution.

'Objection!

Edeard flew along the brightly lit deep tunnel, his arms held wide as if they were wings. Air drove against his face, whipping his hair about. His mouth was open to whoop ecstatically.

'Furthermore, in the case of Barclay versus Polio it was deemed that nominated evidence must be independently verified in order for a warrant to be validated.

'My lords I must protest that the defence is procrastinating, Master Cherix said. 'The evidence is fully verified. I gathered the confirming testimony myself.

'I have no doubt of that my lords. However, as my learned council is also fully aware, and has chosen to overlook, tin-testimony in this case is invalid. Master Solarin bowed benevolently at the two girls from the House of Blue Petals who war sitting behind the prosecution bench. They giggled back at him. 'These quite delightful ladies upon whose testimony the prosecution's entire case is based on are themselves employed by the establishment owned by the plaintiff. Impartiality in these circumstances must be discounted, as established by Rupart versus Vaxill, and with it, validation. I would ask for your immediate ruling on this.

Hallwith's home was on the fifth floor of a bridge in Cobara. Two barrels hung in the air beside Edeard as he fixed the glowering gang lord with a relentless stare.

'Leave this place, the Waterwalker commanded.

Oil poured out horizontally as the barrels splintered, forming a sheet of glistening liquid poised half way between floor and ceiling.

'They were not employed by the House of Blue Petals, Master Cherix said, radiating great weariness, as if he were sad to point out such an obvious flaw. 'They are free agents who pay a percentage of their earnings to the house. As such Rupart versus Vaxill does not apply.

Side tunnels flashed past at bewildering speed. Edeard had his hands gripped together in front of him, as if he were diving off a bridge into a deep pool of water. He rolled exuberantly as he hurtled onwards, wondering idly where all the branches led to.

'Which leads us to positive identification. Buate's testimony clearly states that the intruder was illuminated from behind. Contention is that, under such circumstances, a visual identification is impossible.

'My lords, the honourable gentleman is making a poor joke. The Waterwalker is perhaps the most readily identifiable man in all of Makkathran. Master Cherix frowned in annoyance as several people at the back of the court began whispering. A mental bustle of excitement spilled out. Edeard, Kanseen and Dinlay did their best not to smile and turn round. Boyd crept in at the rear of the chamber, carrying a canvas bag. He sat behind his squadmates and leant forward to whisper to Dinlay. Everyone sitting on the prosecution bench did their best to ignore him. The murmurs of surprise at the back of the chamber were getting louder.

The senior judge banged his gavel for order.

'I believe my learned colleague has just answered his own question, my lords, Master Solarin said. 'Yes the Waterwalker is renown, which makes such allegations all the easier to perpetrate. Which I believe brings us right back to the malicious suit bill.

Dinlay rose to whisper into Master Solarin's ear. On the other side of the judges, Master Cherix was receiving an equally urgent message from a junior lawyer on his team.

'My lords, I beg your indulgence for a slight recess, Master Solarin said. 'It would appear there is some evidence forthcoming that will completely exonerate my client.

Tin* senior judge nodded agreement, and banged the gavel.

'Court will reconvene in one hour. The defendant is not to leave the building.

Edeard concealed himself as he stepped nimbly through the cloisters that wove through the Courts of Justice. The squad was waiting in a lawyer's preparation room just off the court chamber where the hearing was being conducted. They turned round in surprise when the door opened seemingly by its own accord. It shut, and Edeard materialized in front of it.

Kanseen ran over and gave him a quick kiss.

'How did it go? Dinlay asked.

'I visited seven of them in person, Edeard said. 'And I managed to longtalk warnings to another twelve.

'That ought to do it, Macsen said, taking off the splendid jacket.

'It wasn't easy, Edeard said as he shrugged into the jacket. 'Three of them had children.

'We've been through this, Kanseen said forcefully. 'Nearly all their victims have families, and they get hurt very badly.

'I know.

Macsen sighed in relief as he pulled off Edeard's boots. Hi' wriggled his toes, smiling. Boyd opened the canvas bag and took out Macsen's boots. The old pair Edeard had worn were placed inside.

Boyd inspected the pair of them. 'Good to go, he decided.

'My lords, Master Solarin said with a formal bow. 'As you arc probably aware by now, there have been several regrettable incidents of arson throughout the city this afternoon. To In-precise, during this very annulment hearing. In each instance, the people concerned emerged from their homes claiming it was the Waterwalker who had threatened them and ignited the fire. People who by strange coincidence are named in exclusion warrants. Clearly, this is a serious criminal conspiracy mounted by undesirable elements of the city, deliberately aimed at wrecking my client's reputation.

'Objection, Master Cherix said. 'Hearsay. I believe we were earlier indulged in a lengthy legal argument over verification. I resent the hypocrisy now being practised by opposing counsel.

'My lords, I lodged no motion. I am simply informing you of a sequence of events. It is for your Lordships to weigh the particulars of the case and decide if the court's time and expense are to be wasted on trivia that will not last the first hour of a trial.

The senior judge motioned both lawyers to sit. He conferred briefly with his two fellow judges.

'Application for the dismissal of the warrant is approved. Waterwalker, you are free to go. The gavel was banged to end the session.

The dome on the eastern side of the Parliament House was one of the highest. It had a gallery running round the outside with a bulbous white balustrade that only came up to the knee of a grown man. The squad stood back from the railing, looking out across the city to the Port District. It was late in the afternoon, with the sun already starting to dip behind the rest of the Parliament House domes behind them.

Edeard's eyes were closed as he scoured the city with his farsight. He was focusing on Edsing and his family, who were trudging across the centre of Pholas Park on their way to Sampalok. They carried a couple of small bundles — all they'd salvaged from the fire. Mirayse hadn't stopped berating Edsing the whole way. Judging by his mental hue, Edsing was on the verge of striking her. 'They're moving, Edeard informed the others. 'I make that over sixty are on their way to Sampalok.

'Is that enough? Kanseen asked.

'No, Edeard said. 'I want the majority in there. I'll longtalk the others this evening, deliver the same warning. In two days' time we'll arrest the Hundred.

'I sensed Buate as we left the court, Boyd said. 'His shield was loose for a moment. He was very confused.

Macsen grinned at tin- vast city before them. 'Another legend of the Waterwalker safely established. You can be in many places at once.

'About that, Dinlay said. 'Edsing lives in Padua.

'Yes, Edeard said, guessing what was coming.

'But Hallwith lives in Cobara; while Coyce is in Ilongo; the others are equally spread out. Yet you visited seven of them.

Macsen was frowning now.

'We were only in the court for an hour and a half at best, Dinlay said. 'How did you get round all of them in that time?

'That running I do each morning, it keeps me in good shape. You should join me.

'Nobody runs that fast.

Edeard withdrew his farsight, and smiled at the four inquisitive faces looking at him. 'I'm the Waterwalker, he told them mysteriously. His cloak flowed dramatically around him.

What was about to happen was no secret. The city's gossipmongers had been busy the evening before reporting on how the constables in every district station were being called in and told to prepare. All of Makkathran knew this was the day.

Edeard sensed more people than he could number farsighting, him as he walked out of the tenement that morning. He was taking a break from his running. It was going to be a long day.

'Be careful, Kristabel had said as she kissed him goodnight after the party in Zelda the previous evening.

'I will be, he assured her.

'No, Edeard, she said, and placed her hand on his arm, grey-blue eyes beseeching him. 'No light-hearted pledges. Please. Be careful. What you are proposing tomorrow is dangerous. This is the crucial point in your fight, and everyone in Makkathran knows it. So I'm asking you, be on your guard. Warpal and his people must know that Argian has confessed all to you. If they see an opening they will strike like a fastfox.

He took her hands. 'I know. I make light of it because I don't want you to worry. Now remember what you promised me?

She sighed and rolled her eyes. 'I will stay at home, on the top floor, and I will suffer the extra guards Homelt assigns.

'No matter what.

'No matter what, she agreed.

As he closed the tenement gate behind him, Edeard checked the Culverit ziggurat with his farsight. Sure enough, Kristabel was there having breakfast on the hortus with Mirnatha and their father; all three of them anxiously casting their farsight towards Sampalok.

His squad were waiting for him on the street outside. He tried to remember that first morning they'd stumbled down into the Jeavons station small hall to be shouted at by Chae. A bunch of stupid, semi-idealistic kids, none of whom really knew what they were letting themselves in for.

Now he could barely recognize those nervous eager youths in his friends. Macsen, who was dressed almost as smartly as Edeard, still the most self confident of the group. Boyd, whose height no longer made him appear gangly, wearing his uniform with complete authority. If he told you to stop these days, you'd do it out of respect for the office he represented. Dinlay who still couldn't quite be considered well turned-out, despite the new uniforms he wore these days, but who'd gained self-reliance and a realistic understanding of human nature. But then getting shot would do that for most people. And Kanseen, who smiled a whole lot more these days; as always the most solid and reliable of them all.

Edeard grinned round at them, knowing he could depend on them no matter what. Guessing he'd probably have to before the day was out. 'Let's go.

There was a gondola waiting for them on Arrival Canal. It took them down to High Pool and turned on to the Great Major Canal. Edeard deliberately didn't look at the big ziggurat as they passed by, his attention was all on Sampalok up ahead.

Buate was already awake and up. After the fire at the House of Blue Petals he'd moved into an unclaimed building on Zulmal Street, halfway between the mansion of the Sampalok District

Master and Mid Pool. It had five rooms with strange convex curving ceilings. Two rooms made up the ground floor, then the remainder were stacked one on top of the other, making the whole edifice resemble a bulbous chimney with the stairs spiralling up a narrow cylinder along one side. The triangular roof terrace was besieged by the shaggy vines which carpeted the entire outside. A carpenter had installed a front door for him, and a few pieces of furniture had been assembled downstairs. Clothes and other essentials were still in the boxes they'd been delivered in. A lone ge-monkey performed domestic duties for him. Buate had tried to get the poor creature to climb the vinos and prune them away from the windows, with little success. It was something of a come-down from the luxury and service he was used to at the House of Blue Petals. Edeard suspected that was deliberate.

Boyd nudged him as they passed through Forest Pool. 'Looks like everyone is up early today.

Following Boyd's mental directions, Edeard's farsight observed Master Cherix walking over the central wire and wood bridge between Golden Park and Anemone. It was the route the lawyer had to take every day to reach his Guild offices in Parliament House now he was excluded from Jeavons.

'Even he can't get a law revoked, Edeard said. He'd consulted Master Solarin about the articles of arrest, who assured him then twenty-two days holding period remained legally applicable, providing they had a deposition of suspicion from the arresting constable. It was an aspect he'd emphasised repeatedly when met with the station captains yesterday to organize the arrest.

As he swept his farsight back from Anemone to Sampalok saw the constables making their way across Pholas Park to Tosella. There were hundreds of them marching in from the station in the city, divided into arrest teams and bridge reinforcement squads. Dozens of ge-dogs trotted alongside, while eagles swarmed the clear sky overhead.

As they passed through Mid Pool Edeard felt a familiar farsight focus on the gondola.

'Salrana? They hadn't spoken since that day in the caravan pens. His few attempts to longtalk her had been met by an icy mental shield.

Now, her directed longtalk spoke to him alone in the gondola. 'Edeard, people are afraid. Many families have come to the church this morning. What you are doing is scaring them.

'I know. But once today is over, their fear will be gone.

'You can't know that.

Such doubt wasn't like her. Salrana used to be the one cheering him on the whole time. 'I can hope that, can't I? Where are we without hope?

'You are becoming a politician, Edeard.

'I will be Mayor, and you will be Pythia, he replied warmly.

'We are not children any more. Your pride has pushed you into this ridiculous showdown.

'It has not! he told her irately. 'You know full well we cannot live with the gangs casting such a blight over everyone's lives. You see the suffering as much as I do, if not more. I am trying, Salrana. This might not be a perfect way for us to be rid of them, but it is something. The Lady will sympathize with that; as much as She would despise me for standing by and doing nothing.

'Don't tell me what the Lady will think. Her farsight abruptly withdrew.

Edeard turned to stare with exasperation in the direction of Ysidro. He refused to send his own farsight towards the Lady's church in that district, where Salrana was assigned.

She'll see, he told himself. After today, she'll see I am right.

Their gondola pulled in at a mooring platform on the edge of Mid Pool. Edeard and the squad went up the wooden stairs to the broad concourse surrounding the pool. It was eerily deserted. The buildings that formed the far side were four or five storeys high, all of them independent from each other, tall and narrow as were most of the structures in the district, with irregular bulges on their sides. Windows protruded out of them like insect eyes. More than anywhere in the city, Sampalok's structures scorned based on some organic formation.

Edeard could see entire families lined up behind the bubbles of crystal, staring at them. Trepidation filled the air like a noxious fume.

'He's this way, Edeard said, and headed off towards the top of Zulmal Street. His farsight observed the constables gathering at every bridge into Sampalok, ready to prevent anyone from coming out into the city, especially rioters. There were almost no gondolas moving on the canals around the district.

He walked on for almost ten minutes along the twisty litter-strewn street. Always in the shade of the dark plant-swathed houses. The few people abroad gave him and the squad sullen glances before they hurried off down side alleys. A couple of them spat contemptuously. Edeard kept watching Bise's mansion, a lofty stepped tower surrounded by a thick rectangular wall with only three gates. There were a lot of people inside, but none were coming out. The big iron-bound gates were all firmly closed. He wasn't quite sure if any of the Hundred were inside. If they were, getting them out would be the task from Honious. Probably not worth it.

Edeard directed his longtalk to a single figure skulking down one of the side alleys they passed. 'Have you seen anything?

'Eight of my people walk Sampalok today, Argian replied 'They're not using concealment, not yet. That would draw your attention to them.

'Why are they here?

'I spoke to Pitier. Of all of us, he holds views most similar to my own. He said they have been told to observe, but to hold themselves ready.

'I see. Thank you.

Buate was sitting calmly on one of his two chairs when the squad arrived outside. Edeard knocked loudly on the door. His farsight examined the man closely as he came to the door, Inn he carried no pistol or blade.

'Waterwalker, Buate said in a jaded voice. 'Have you come to escort me to the financial court?

'Nothing that pleasant. You are under arrest.

'On what charge?

'Suspicion of extortion. We intend to hold you while we gather corroborating evidence.

'Are you sure you want to do this?

'Yes.

'Very well. He closed his eyes, and longtalked strongly. 'This is it my friends. Go forward!

Edeard quietly asked the city to bring the remaining jamolar barrels up from the tunnel running under Zulmal Street. They slithered up quietly in the gaps between the swollen knobbly buildings, sitting unnoticed in the shade of the creepers and trees, displacing some of the rubbish cluttering the gutters.

The squad moved back out of the house, surrounding Buate. Doors were starting to open all along Zulmal Street. Men emerged, carrying long clubs or knives, hammers, pokers, broken bottles. Edeard ignored them, concentrating on the five barrels that had emerged at the side of Buate's house. His third hand detached the tops of each one.

'You won't make it ten yards, Buate gloated.

On either side of the street, the men began to edge their way forward. They were giving Edeard and the squad nervous glances, but slowly and surely they kept moving. There was a great deal of longtalk slithering among them.

'Go on, go on, was the most common phrase. 'Keep going. There's hundreds of us.

'Stand back, Edeard instructed loudly. A rock came whirling out of the sky, thrown by someone at the rear of the swelling mob. Macsen's third hand swatted it away easily.

Buate started to laugh. 'Not quite the people's champion you thought you were, eh, Waterwalker?

Edeard's third hand sucked the oil out of all five barrels, consolidating it into a giant globe. He sent it streaking forwards. As it flew a couple of yards over his head he held up a hand. A single thread of light crackled out from his extended index finger.

The oil ignited with a loud roar, spitting out fat globules of flame. Edeard guided it down to a yard above the street then sent it racing on ahead of him. The men lining the route yelled in fear and dived aside. Great droplets of flaming oil splattered onto the street, hissing and fizzing in its wake.

'This way, Edeard told a startled Buate politely. They began to walk back down Zulmal Street. The would-be mob were keeping their distance now, watching the fireball anxiously as Edeard began to draw it back. 'I never got to thank your dear brother for this idea, he said to Buate. 'It was a good one.

'It's a long way to Parliament House, Buate growled. 'And we're not there yet. He was using his longtalk to issue a fast stream of instructions.

Edeard's farsight showed him people taking to the streets all across Sampalok. He was ready for that. The constables had been instructed that under no account was anyone from the district to get across a bridge and spread their brand of disturbance into the rest of the city. From what he could perceive, the bridge reinforcement teams were holding well. None of the rapidly forming crowds were getting close to the end of a bridge. He picked out several of the Hundred directing people, goading them onwards. Stones and bottles were starting to be thrown and telekinetically guided on to the constables. Blade discs were also skimming through the air.

The arrest teams weren't fairing as well as he hoped. The most able farsighted constables were assigned to tracking those on the list, and guiding the teams towards them. They were having trouble pushing through the hostile crowds thronging the streets.

'The thing about fire, Waterwalker, is that you can never really control how it burns, Buate said.

Edeard was very conscious of how quickly the fireball's oil was being used up. The street behind them was now jammed with angry people, yelling insults and abuse. More of the mob were starting to mill around in the alleys on the way back to Mid Pool. As soon as the squad passed, they came out to join the main press behind them.

'Edeard, Boyd growled under his breath.

'You know that we can dodge anything they throw at us, Edeard said with quiet reassurance to his friends. 'Our only real concern is to get this bastard into a cell.

'Once ignited, a flame will burn until there is no more fuel, Buate said. His hand waved at the mob following them. 'They don't need ringleaders any more. They're burning on their hatred for you.

The barrels secreted down the alleys had been discovered. They were tipped over and smashed. Jamolar oil rippled down the street ahead of the squad. Edeard sent the fireball soaring high above the rooftops, then burst it apart in a vivid halo of flame. The mob below flinched.

Edeard just caught a flash of white light. The oil on the street burst into flame. People screamed and ran. A wall of flame raced towards the squad.

'Shit, Edeard grunted. He asked the city to change the street, and the oil vanished, soaked away by the suddenly porous pavement. Puffs of smoke floated between the buildings, dissipating in the breeze.

Buate's jaw dropped. 'What—

Edeard winked at him. 'Keep going.

The crowd along Zulmal Street kept a respectful distance as the squad walked the rest of the way to the Mid Pool concourse. There were over a hundred constables on the broad semi circle around the pool, with more behind the bridges over to Bellis and Pholas Park. Livid crowds were boiling round the entrance to each street that led into Sampalok.

Macsen and Boyd handed a sullen Buate over to one of the arrest teams, with instructions to take him to the cells underneath Parliament House.

'Now what? Kanseen asked, looking at the jeering crowd blocking the end of Amtol Street.

'I don't know. Edeard said. He was longtalking with the senior sergeants at each of the bridges, checking up on the progress of the other arrest teams. 'We've managed to nab eight of the Hundred, including Buate. That's not going to have the effect I wanted. He gave the street mobs a worried glance. 'I don't want to send anyone in there again. That really will kick things off.

'If we stand out here, we've lost, Macsen said. 'You'll be admitting they're in charge of Sampalok, and there's nothing you can do about it.

'I thought we didn't mind if they rioted in Sampalok, Boyd said.

'There are a lot of decent folk who live here, Edeard said. 'And this is a very big crowd. It's the same at every bridge. I didn't realize Buate still had this much control.

'We could go in with concealment, Dinlay said. 'Snatch the closest one on the list and bring him out quickly. That Hundred are the key to this, they're the ones stirring people up. Take them out one at a time.

'You might be right, Edeard said. He wasn't sure. The size and animosity of the response had caught him off guard. But then Sampalok residents always had a chip on their shoulder, it wouldn't take much to rile them.

He went over to the watcher crew at the end of the concourse next to Trade Route Canal to find out which of the Hundred was nearby. Before he'd even spoken to anyone the sergeant at the middle bridge into High Moat was longtalking that the crowd was rampaging along the streets, breaking into shops and businesses. Looting had begun. Edeard's farsight flicked over to the area, sensing a deluge of anger and glee. Not a good combination, he thought as his farsight found a ge-eagle overhead. The genistar's acute sight revealed flames and smoke pouring out of five or six buildings. When it swooped lower he could see dense congregations pressed up against commercial premises. Goods were being hauled out of shattered doors to be passed around the eager crowd. Scores of kids were running away, each clutching at some piece of loot.

The ge-eagle's thought filled with agitation. Something was pulling at it, forcing it down towards the curving, angled rooftop of Sampalok. Its powerful wings flapped madly as its distress mounted.

Edeard found that extremely alarming. Few people had the telekinetic strength to reach all the way up to a ge-eagle, and fewer still had the inclination to attack a defenceless creature.

It was inordinately difficult to farsight telekinesis, but Edeard could just make out the tenuous band of force stretching up from the ground. He focused on the origin, a youth no more than fifteen, standing in Entfall Avenue while the crowd surged around him.

'Stop that, Edeard commanded.

The lad started. His telekinesis abandoned the ge-eagle, and he ran into the nearest building.

The sound of wood splintering reverberated across the Mid Pool concourse. Edeard looked round to see a group of people had battered down the door to a baker's shop in Mislore Avenue. Cheers rang out as the crowd swarmed in to help themselves to fresh loaves and cakes. Sharp cries from the baker and his family vanished swiftly. Then the grocer's next door was breached. A clothing shop. A tavern—to the accompaniment of much cheering. An ironmonger's. Cafe. A cobbler.

'What do we do, Waterwalker? the senior sergeant on the concourse demanded.

Edeard looked at him, not knowing the answer. Then there came the sound of doors being broken on Zulmal Street.

'Lady! He turned to the sergeant. 'Drive them back, get them out of those premises.

The sergeant, who was from Vaji station, gave him a dubious stare. 'Yes sir.

A squad of over fifty constables formed up, with Edeard at the head. He led them into Mislore Avenue. As soon as the crowd saw him coming, they turned and ran. A sleet of projectiles hurtled through the air at the advancing constables. Edeard battered all of them away, sending them tumbling to the ground ahead of him. When he looked down the first side alley he could see directly into Zulmal Street; the riot and looting was worse there. Further up Mislore Avenue the crowd was breaking into a fresh set of shops.

'You did this! a woman screamed at him. She'd run out of a splintered doorway, wearing a long yellow dress that was smeared with blood. Her hand clutched at a long knife which she waved extravagantly. 'You, Waterwalker, you ruined us. Two hundred years my family has lived here, two hundred years our shop has thrived, now we've lost everything. Rot in Honious, you bastard.

Edeard stopped advancing down Mislore Avenue. All he was accomplishing was to push people into areas that were undamaged, providing them with further targets. 'Lady help me, he muttered.

Three more sergeants reported riots starting. Six sections of Sampalok were in chaos now.

'Trouble here, Dinlay's longtalk reported. Edeard could till his friend was trying not to panic.

'Back to the concourse, he told the constables he was leading.

When he got there, he found the rioters in Zulmal Street had been emboldened by his absence. They'd spilled out into the concourse to confront the constables defending the bridge over to Bellis. Behind them, the looting was multiplying. Violence spilled on to the street at the beleaguered business owners did their best to defend their livelihoods. He saw clubs swing brutally. Third hands clashed. Then his worst fear was realized: a pistol shot rang out.

Everyone on the concourse froze, trying to see where the shot had come from. Out of the corner of his eye Edeard saw Kanseen fall. She was on the front rank of the constables (of course); now she crumpled to her knees, hands clutching her chest, breathing with difficulty.

'Kanseen! Macsen bellowed. He shoved his way through th silent constables to reach her side. His arms went round her.

'All right, she gasped. 'I'm all right. Lady! I'll never complain about these drosilk waistcoats again. She was rubbing her chest where the bullet had struck. Macsen let out a sob of relief, and kissed her.

A furious Edeard strode out into the empty zone between the constables and the rioters. The nearest members of the mob shuffled backwards.

'Break this up! Edeard roared. 'Go back to your homes. This is over.

For a moment the silence held. Then someone unseen yelled, 'Fuck the Waterwalker.

Two more pistol shots rang out. Edeard was ready for them. The bullets hung in the air a couple of feet in front of him. He was going to make a show of examining them and sneering contemptuously. Slap it into the rioters that he was invincible, that their moment of rebellion was over. But it was a signal for a renewed round of jeering.

'One of mine fired the shots, Argian longtalked directed to Edeard.

Edeard's gaze flicked up to the roof of the building at the start of Zulmal Street. Argian was there, crouched down amid the profusion of flowering vines. 'Who? Where? Edeard asked.

'Junlie. He's already retreating.

The hail of missiles was starting again.

'All right, Edeard snarled at the rioters. 'I warned you.

Those in the front rank faltered, their taunts and abuse fading as they saw his determination.

Edeard's cloak billowed wide, freeing his arms. He brought them up in a wide curving motion, his eyes closed. Concentrating hard. He'd never really exerted his full telekinetic strength before, not like this. Not aggressively. Behind him, the surface of Mid Pool shivered. Twin plumes of water exploded high into the air. Their crests warped round to streak over the concourse, merging directly above Edeard. The constables underneath the giant airborne streams gasped, crouching down fearfully.

Edeard grinned mercilessly. He flung the water directly at the rioters as a single wavefront. It hit the ground in front of Zulmal Street, throwing up a huge cloud of spume. The main bulk of water surged onwards into the street, knocking everybody off their feet. Third hands formed desperate body shields, warding the thundering foam away from mouths and noses. Edeard kept it coming, standing immobile as the vast torrent churned above him. Captured fil-rats squawked in terror as they were propelled overhead within the unnatural flood. The leading wave rushed fifty yards down the street — seventy — a hundred. Its force and size reduced gradually as smaller streams poured away down the side alleys.

The surface of Mid Pool sank down drastically as Edeard continued to siphon water out. Water along the connecting canals began to dip and race in to fill the depression.

Edeard took a deep calming breath, and slowly lowered his arms. Above him, the final swell of water splattered down into the street.

There was no more rioting. Water churned away down alleys and drains. Edeard looked at the hundreds of soaking bodies left clinging to the buildings and each other, flopping about like beached fish. A multitude of coughing and harsh gasps echoed along the walls of dripping vines. Sunlight shining through the placid stripes of alto-cumulus created a strangely beautiful sheen across the glistening surfaces.

'I told you, Edeard announced impassively. 'Go home.

Constables moved down Zulmal Street, helping people to their feet, making sure they were all right. Broken limbs were a common injury. Over two dozen were carried to the concourse where doctors had been summoned. Two arrests were made when they found a couple of the people on Edeard's Hundred list. Other than that there were no recriminations. The rioters slunk away, shivering in their sodden clothes. Mislore Avenue was equally quiet.

'What in the Lady's name is going on? Chief Constable Walsfol demanded with a directed longtalk.

Soft and precise though the telepathy was, Edeard could sense the man's anger and fear. 'I had to do something, sir. The rioters were destroying the whole street.

'You might have calmed your area, but the rest of Sampalok is falling into Ladydamned anarchy.

'I know, Edeard replied miserably. His farsight could see the mobs rampaging through the streets and alleys across the rest of Sampalok. Smoke was churning into the morning air, muting the bright sunlight across the district. Instead of giving them pause for thought, his actions had actually acted like some kind of spur to the mobs. 'I'll go over to Galsard Street next, it's closest. Then I'll move on to—

'You will do no such thing, Walsfol said. 'We're worried your actions are just inflaming the whole situation. You stand down, Waterwalker, I want you back in Jeavons by midday. I am ordering all constables to fall back behind the bridges.

'But people are being hurt, Edeard protested.

'Perhaps you should have thought about that before you began this action. You assured me that the disturbance would be minimal. I don't know who it was that forced the gang leaders into Sampalok, but all that's done is magnified this whole Lady-damned disaster.

It would have been worse. Every district would be burning like this by now. Probably. Dear Lady, what have I done?

'Yes sir.

'The Mayor feels more direct action will be required to support the citizens currently under threat.

'What sort of action?

'We're not sure. The Upper Council has been in emergency session for the last twenty minutes, nothing has been decided.

Edeard gazed round the concourse. A wide flow of shallow water was rippling back out of Zulmal Street to gurgle over the rim into Mid Pool. A couple of doctors had responded to the calls of the sergeants, and were moving along the row of injured. Lady's Novices in their blue and white robes were scurrying round, assisting the doctors and comforting the dazed patients.

A shot rang out. Every constable flinched, automatically looking towards Zulmal Street. Edeard's farsight was unconsciously aware of his squadmates — just as Chae had taught them so long ago. Boyd's thoughts vanished from perception.

Somewhere close by, Kanseen screamed.

Edeard's farsight flashed out to where Boyd had been an instant before; one of the shops along Zulmal Street. A mind in the front room glowed with unrepentant satisfaction. There was a lifeless body in there, but farsight couldn't help Edeard identify who it was. He could however pick out the kind of kit every constable wore. 'Lady, no, he whispered.

Then he was running across the concourse and into Zulmal Street. It was a baker's shop, of course. The deluge of water had poured in through the broken door, creating havoc inside. Shelving and counters had flipped over as the powerful current raced through into the rear. It struck the ovens in the kitchens, releasing dangerous clouds of steam as it quenched their fires. One of the heavy cabinets in the front had toppled on to a teenage lad, pinning him to the ground. That was how Boyd found him, whimpering in agony, coughing water, blood seeping into his clothes from where broken hip bones had punctured his skin. A son of the baker or a rioter, Boyd didn't care. The lad was suffering and needed help. Boyd helped. Using his third hand and a post of wood, he was crouched down beside the cabinet, levering it free.

When Edeard rushed in, Mirayse was still standing over Boyd's corpse, the pistol in her hand. Her clothes were splattered with blood, as well they might be. She'd put the pistol muzzle;in inch from the back of Boyd's head to shoot. The front of Boyd face had blown off, spewing gore across the cabinet and the pot lad underneath it, who was now weeping hysterically.

Mirayse giggled at the constables piling into the shop. "I got you, she said in a peculiar sing song voice. 'I got you. You killed my life. We're equal now.

Dinlay lunged forward, face contorted in fury, his third hand reaching to heartsqueeze the demented woman. Edeard's shield protected her.

'No. She will stand trial. His third hand plucked the pistol from her. 'Take her out, he told Urarl. He lifted the cabinet effortlessly from the lad. 'And get a doctor in here.

Urarl and two constables took Mirayse out of the shop. As they left, Argian slipped in.

Macsen dropped to his knees next to Boyd's corpse. He reached out tentatively, as if his friend were merely pretending. Blood mingled with the water soaking into his uniform trousers. Kanseen was gripping a sobbing Dinlay, tears leaking silently from her eyes.

'Why? she whispered.

Argian held up the pistol. 'This model is the kind we favour. They would know her state of mind. It would be a simple thing to give her this and whisper where one of the Waterwalker's squad was.

Macsen turned to snarl at Argian.

'Wait, Edeard said. He found it strange he was so calm. Shock seemed to be slowing his thoughts, taking him a long way away. It was as though the events inside the baker's shop were taking place on some remote stage.

'What? Macsen moaned. 'He's dead!

Edeard stood perfectly still, reaching out with his farsight. His friends faded away, as did the walls of the bakery. Droplets from the drenched walls and furniture struck the puddled floor, tinkling like bells. Slowing. Greyness eclipsed the world he walked through.

Amidst this sombre silent universe a single figure glimmered. Edeard smiled. 'You stayed.

'I haven't said goodbye, Boyd's soul told him. 'I'd like to say goodbye. But it's difficult, Edeard. They can't hear me.

'Take whatever you need, Edeard told him, and held his arms out. The phantom Boyd touched him.

It was as though a spike of ice was being driven through his heart. Edeard's mouth opened to a shocked O, his own life was flowing out through the contact. The real universe rushed back in to engulf him.

Kanseen gasped as Boyd's spectral shape materialized above his own corpse. Edeard staggered, forcing himself to draw down a breath. The cold was spreading through him. Numbing.

'Boyd? Dinlay said.

'My friends, Boyd gazed round them magnanimously.

'Don't go, Kanseen said.

'I have to. I can hear the nebulas calling. It's quite beautiful. I only waited for Edeard to notice me.

'We need you, too.

'Dinlay, tell Saria for me. Be kind, she will need a lot of comfort.

'I promise.

'Kanseen, Macsen; don't hide, not like this. Life is too precious for a single moment of happiness to be lost.

'I… Kanseen gave Macsen a forlorn look. 'Yes. Yes, you're right.

Boyd regarded Argian. 'You, the doubter. Have faith in Edeard, he is stronger than all of us. I can see that. I can see the way he affects this universe, it flows to his will.

Edeard grimaced, his knees sagging. The cold was becoming unbearable.

'I'm sorry, Edeard, Boyd said. 'I weary you. I am one pattern you cannot sustain.

'Pattern? Edeard gasped.

'Why yes. That is what this universe is, a beautiful memory. There are so many patterns folded within its structure; they stretch back for ever. He let go of Edeard's hand, and immediately began to diminish. As he did so, he gave a knowing grin. 'I never realized the city was alive like this, Waterwalker. But you know, don't you? You can feel its dreams. Get it to help you, today of all days. Stop being so timid. This needs more than water to finish it. Have courage and be bold.

Edeard couldn't stop shivering. 'I will, he pledged.

'You must think I'm so weak to leave, Boyd said as his spectre lifted towards the sky, thinning out.

Edeard's perception followed it. 'No, he said. Then he heard, 'We have to stay, he is all we have.

'What? he asked.

The sensation of a smile emerged from Boyd's essence. 'I understand. And he was gone, ascending to the nebulas.

Kanseen was crying openly as they stepped back out on to Zulmal Street. 'I'm sorry, she blubbed, wiping the back of her hand over here eyes. 'I'll be all right.

'You do see souls, Argian said in astonishment.

'Yes, Edeard said. He was incredibly tired. It would be so easy to sit down and just close his eyes, chasing a moment's rest. After all, Walsfol had ordered him back to Jeavons. None of this was his problem any more.

Yeah, right.

'What do you want to do? Macsen asked.

Edeard gave him a desperate look. 'I don't know.

'My people, Bise's longtalk voice called.

As one the squad turned to face the District Master's mansion at the heart of Sampalok. Bise stood on the roof, dressed in his flowing violet robes, the fur-lined hood thrown over his left shoulder. He held his arms out in benediction to his vast audience. 'I speak to all of us within Sampalok, those whose families have been here for generations and those newly arrived, seeking safe haven from the Waterwalker's persecution.

Edeard immediately bridled.

'Don't say anything, Kanseen ordered sternly. 'Arguing in public will make you seem petty.

'Do not fight among yourselves, Bise said softly. 'Your enemy is outside, and this conflict only strengthens him. Even now the forces who fear your freedoms are gathering in High Moat. I urge you to stand firm against them. Resist their occupation of your home, the last place in the city where you are independent men as Rah promised. I offer your families sanctuary within the walls of my mansion. Here they will be safe while you fight to establish your liberty against the oppression brought upon all of us by the Waterwalker.

'We have little time now. Listen to those who walk among you speaking with my authority. Resist the invasion of those who seek to banish you from this city which is your birthright. Bise gifted a humble smile, and stepped down into the tower.

'What in Honious was that? Dinlay asked. 'Some kind of election stunt?

'I have no idea, an equally confused Edeard grunted. He gave Argian a questioning glance. 'Could he really be the top gang lord?

'No, Argian said. 'It isn't like that. The Diroals have strong links with the gangs. They profit from having business rivals weakened, but Bise is smart enough to keep his distance. This is something else entirely.

'Oh Lady, Kanseen groaned. She was facing north, her eyes closed as her farsight ranged out. 'The militia's coming.

'What? Edeard gasped.

'The militia. A whole regiment, by the look of it. They're coming across High Moat.

It took a second for Edeard's own farsight to find the long rank of men marching past the caravan pens. 'What are they doing? The constables are holding the rioters in Sampalok, they can't get over the bridges.

'There is a complete breakdown of law and order inside Makkathran, Macsen said tonelessly. 'If you're the Mayor, how would you feel about that? The militia aren't going to reinforce the bridges, they're coming in to stop the riots.

'How? Edeard asked. 'This isn't a militia job. The constables are much better trained to break up mobs.

'They're armed, Kanseen said quietly.

The chill akin to that Edeard had experienced at Boyd's touch returned; of all the constables he'd organized to help today only the sergeants and corporals were authorized to carry revolvers. 'But the people on the streets…

'And Bise has just told them to resist the invaders, Dinlay said.

'They have to be stopped, Edeard said. 'The militia can't shoot at civilians, even if they are breaking the law.

'People in the mob are armed, Argian said. 'It may be that the militia will be shot at first. That would be… convenient.

'Will your people listen to you? Can you get them to stop this?

'There is little to be done on the streets, Argian said. 'Though I will try and speak to those of my fellowship walking Sampalok today. But it is Motluk and his kind who ultimately hold sway.

'Talk to him, Edeard said. 'This cannot be allowed to happen.

'I will do what I can. Argian turned and headed off along the street.

'With me, Edeard told the others. 'We have to get to High Moat and stop this. He started running back to the concourse, his farsight ranging out. 'Lady curse it, where are all the gondolas, why are they never about when you need one?

'You planning to give the militia a good soaking? Dinlay asked keenly.

'Whatever it takes. The nearest gondola Edeard could sense was in Lilac Canal, heading away from Great Major Canal. It would take far too long. He stood in the middle of the Mid Pool concourse, twisting about, wracked by indecision. His support of Boyd had left him aching and enervated, he knew he didn't have the strength to pull many more stunts like the water cascade, especially not if he had to first run the entire length of Sampalok to reach the High Moat bridge. 'Lady damn it. He sent his farsight straight into the Orchard Palace, finding the Mayor in the Upper Council chamber. 'Sir, please, I have to talk to you.

'Waterwalker, the Mayor's timbre was frigid. 'The only reason you're still in this city is so you can give evidence before the commission I'm setting up to examine today's events and determine who is to blame. Alter that I have no doubt the Grand

Council will pass a very specific act of banishment, with you as the sole name listed.

'Sir, please, you have to call back the militia.

'What Lady-damned choice have you left me? Makkathran has not seen the like of this disorder for over a thousand years. And it was all your idea. Arresting these Hundred troublemakers was supposed to put an end to chaos. All you have done is provoked outrage and horror. People, decent people in Sampalok, and there are many, contrary to your propaganda, are suffering untold brutality at the hands of a wild mob. A mob you provoked. I am the Mayor, and I will not let that stand. It must be stopped.

'Let me stop it, sir. I can use water on them again; however many times it takes, a dozen if I have to. Please, you cannot let the militia shoot people.

'Since you are so obviously very hard of understanding I will say this in simple terms. You are to leave Sampalok at once. The officers of the militia are not savages, they will deal with this in a fast and professional manner. Do you understand? If you do not comply this instant, I will have Walsfol issue an order for your arrest. Not even you can withstand a hundred constables at once.

'Yes sir, Edeard said. His throat was strangely hard, making it difficult to swallow.

'So what are we doing? Dinlay asked.

Edeard stared round. The squad were still waiting for his word. And look where my ideas have got us. But I know what I am doing is right. I know it is. The politicians and families are twisting everything. He smiled grimly at his friends. 'We're doing exactly what Boyd told me: being bold. Are you with me?

Macsen put on a pained expression. 'Why are you asking that?

Several constables were heading towards them, led by a very uncomfortable-looking sergeant. Edeard waved insolently al them. 'I think we just stopped being constables.

'Oh Honious, Kanseen groaned.

'You'll really need to hold my hands for this, Edeard said, suddenly relishing what he was about to do. His friends sensed his new mood, and grinned. So they held hands, the four of them standing together in the middle of the concourse. In broad daylight, with a hundred constables looking on, and thousands of farsight gazes playing over them, they sank down through the solid surface laughing defiantly all the way.

It was Macsen who screamed the loudest while they tore through the bright tunnel as if they were falling to Querencia from the very nebulas themselves.

'Edeard, what are you doing? Finitan's longtalk asked when they surfaced in a deserted alley not far from the central bridge over Cloud Canal.

'I have to stop the militia, sir, Edeard replied, impressed by how fast the Grand Master had found them. Then he saw a ge-dog at the other end of the alley.

'Listen to me, Edeard, do not use force against the militia. You do not have universal approval among their officers. And Owain has given them a free hand to deal with the rioters.

'Why? Edeard asked. 'Why is he doing this?

'As the city sees it, he is clearing up the mess you have created, Finitan said with infinite weariness. 'In doing so he usurps you as the force of law and order within Makkathran, and breaks the gangs at the same time. When people are killed in any number, this city will blame you. And because of that, they'll vote for him at every election for the next hundred years.

'All this is about votes,

'No, Edeard, as I told you right at the beginning, it is about politics. Always. Those in power are not easily dislodged. Certainly not by good intentions.

'But what about Bise? He's offering people sanctuary in his mansion while the rioters defy the militia. He's making things worse.

'Bise is a sacrifice Owain is prepared to make. They were allies in Council until this morning. Each wanted to claim credit for defeating you. Bise underestimated Owain's resolve. It is a split which Owain has played perfectly. He is already talking of the Council putting Bise on trial for complicity; and there are enough of Bise's relatives who will leap at the chance of taking his District Mastership should he be disbarred. All Bise can do is make his gesture of resistance in the hope it makes things worse for Owain.

'Do you think it will?

'I have no idea. They may yet reach an accord before the point of no return is reached. Whether they do or not, nobody is going to vote for me, not after today, probably not even me. I'm seriously considering offering Owain my allegiance, that way I might salvage some of my political influence. Possibly if I work with him I can be a moderating voice.

'No, you can't do that.

'We all have to face reality, Edeard; he is consolidating the city behind him just as we hoped to do.

'By causing people to die! There are family agents positioned among the crowd ready to escalate this conflict with the militia.

'Then we will need the Lady to grant us a miracle, for 1 see no other way out of this. We are pressured on every side. And you, my brave friend, you will have lost all you have achieved.

'This can't happen.

'It already has. I will protect you as best I can, but I doubt that will be of much use tomorrow.

Edeard bowed his head as he ended his longtalk with the Grand Master.

'What's the matter? Dinlay asked.

'We're completely on our own, Edeard told them. 'Owain has won. He's just swept the rest of us aside as if we didn't exist.

'But we do exist, Macsen said urgently. 'I am here with you to help stop the militia killing people. Let us go and do that.

Edeard's farsight observed the first rank of the militia marching over the bridge from High Moat. 'All right, he said with no real conviction. 'One last try.

They were spotted as soon as they started walking towards the bridge. Thousands of farsight glances settled on them. More and more people became attuned to their position as the word spread across every district. The weight of attention was like the muggy air of a summer's day pressing down on the four friends as they walked onward. Nothing else was happening in the city, everyone was watching the events in Sampalok. A vast barrage of longtalked jeers and remarks fell on them. Edeard blocked them all out, trying to think what to do.

A miracle from the Lady, that's what Finitan said we needed. And he's right. But The Lady only ever performed one real miracle here in the city: her church. I wonder… That would be bold beyond even Boyd's imaginings.

The central bridge across Cloud Canal from High Moat was a low curve of the city's substance, lined by stubby emerald pillars with tangerine grooves spiralling up the outside. It led over into a small plaza where tall espaliered fruit trees grew up the sides of every building, covering the bowed walls with thick lines of blossom. The mild scents of peach and plumb were now overwhelmed by the acrid smoke that chuffed out of the barricades. Both Burfol Street and Jankal Lane which led back into the heart of Sampalok had been blocked by piles of furniture that the crowds had set alight. Behind them the shops and businesses had all been looted. Edeard and the squad saw several named on the Hundred list moving among the confident crowd, congratulating friends, muttering instructions. He picked out a lot of pistols being carried openly. Inside the buildings it was a sorry story. Injured shopkeepers and traders nursed their wounds, while their families watched the triumphalist carnival outside with mournful thoughts and a great deal of suppressed rage.

Edeard reached out to Kristabel. 'Can you sense all this? he asked.

'Yes, my love. Everyone in the city is watching Sampalok now. No one can believe the militia has been brought in; father fears the worst but there are so few voices in Council that will dare oppose the Mayor. Oh Edeard, what a mess, and it's my fault.

'No.

'Yes, she insisted. 'It was my idea to drive them all into Sampalok, and look how many decent people have suffered already.

'It was a good idea; imagine this replicated in every district. That's what would have happened.

'Would it? I don't know any more.

'The responsibility is mine alone. Kristabel, I'll probably have to leave the city soon. That's if I don't end up in the Trampello mines.

'I'll be with you, you know that. Wherever you go.

'No darling, you're to be Mistress of Haxpen.

'I don't think I want to be, not if it is to be a Haxpen under Owain's One Nation rule.

'Let's not make any decisions until tomorrow, certainly not in heat.

'Whatever you say. Is there nothing I can do to help you? Please. I want to be there with you.

'No. But there are a lot of people hurt already. They need doctors.

'I'll organize that; I'll talk to the Medical Guild's Grand Master. At least he's no Owain ally.

'All right then.

The alley came out on the Cloud Canal path just short of the bridge. Constables were standing on either side, watching helplessly as the militia regiment marched over. Soldiers were still arriving from High Moat, forming into neat ranks on the plaza. Except for one platoon which had lined up four deep across the path. Twenty eight revolvers were aimed on Edeard as he approached.

'I would talk to your lieutenant, he said.

The front rank parted to let their lieutenant through. He was tall, in his late-thirties, with blond hair curling out from under his black cap. Every brass button gleamed brightly on his green and sapphire tunic. A long sabre was strapped to his white belt.

Edeard kept his mind tightly shielded as his spirits sank further. The lieutenant was like every clothead officer in the militia, a young aristocrat who qualified for a commission because of his infinite arrogance. Just for once he'd wished for one with a spark of intelligence and independence.

'Waterwalker, the lieutenant inclined his head. 'I'm Lieutenant Eustace, I'm in charge here, and I have comprehensive orders from my colonel not to let you pass.

The name was somehow familiar to Edeard, but he was sure he'd never seen the man before. 'If your orders are to stop the rioters, then I can do just that. I already have over at Mid Pool.

'Which agitated the crowds elsewhere, Lieutenant Eustace said. 'You're a menace, Waterwalker, the sooner you're out of this city the better.

'People are going to get badly hurt, Edeard said. 'Surely you can see that. I cannot allow this situation rise to a point where the militia fires upon the crowd. The constables are enough to handle this.

'Your sudden concern for the criminal element is touching. Who has spent the past year provoking them, eh?

'Please, let me try. I'm asking you man to man, what have you got to lose? If I do quiet them down your colonel will be full of praise for you taking the initiative. If I fail, then you just carry on.

'Man to man, eh?

Edeard nodded. There was something wrong here, the lieutenant's face was completely expressionless.

'We have a saying here in Makkathran, Eustace said. 'Something a boy from the countryside probably isn't aware of. Don't piss in the canals, you never know when you'll need to drink from them. He waved his left hand in dismissal. It was a languid movement. Edeard saw the silver ring on his third finger and couldn't help the groan of dismay that escaped his lips. It was shaped as a vine with a single ruby in the crest.

Jessile's fiance.

'Quite, Lieutenant Eustace said thinly as he turned away. 'Like one more step towards the bridge, Waterwalker, and we'll find out just how many bullets you can shield yourself and your squad against. Now fuck off back to whatever diseased cowpat you came from.

'Forget him, Dinlay sneered as the platoon closed ranks again. 'Just go round them, use concealment. He's not a problem. We can get to the plaza easily.

Edeard stared past the hard-faced platoon aiming at him, watching their comrades who were still filing into the plaza. A gentle drizzle of ripe blossom was drifting down around them like dry pink snow. 'I can't fight both sides, he said.

'Just blast the lot of them with the water, Macsen said. 'Anything that'll stop the shooting.

'I'm not sure there's enough here, Edeard said, giving Cloud Canal a miserable look.

'Air then, Kanseen said. 'Can you use air? Hit them with a hurricane?

'Well, probably—

A pistol shot rang out. All four of them instinctively recoiled from the terrible distinctive noise. The platoon were glancing over their shoulders, becoming dangerously stressed.

'Oh, screw this lot, Edeard growled. 'We don't have time. Another shot sounded.

Edeard pulled an enormous column of water out of the canal beside the platoon. In the distance he heard, 'Militiamen take aim.

Lieutenant Eustace shrank down from the water as it began to curve over the canal path. His platoon started to combine their third hands to ward it off. Edeard let the enormous weight fall free.

'Fire!

The air thundered with the power of two hundred and fifty revolvers fired together down Burfol Street and Jankal Lane.

'No, Edeard yelled in horror.

His churning waterfall sent a dozen platoon members skill ding off the path, scrabbling for a hold as they went over tin* edge into the canal.

'Fire!

A second volley crashed out.

'Keep them off me, Edeard told his friends. Macsen and Dinlay immediately started hammering the struggling, drenched platoon soldiers into Cloud Canal. Kanseen's third hand snatched revolvers from those who had the presence of mind to take aim on the Waterwalker.

High above Burfol Street, a wide cylinder of air started to spin. Tales of twisters had always been one of Edeard's childhood bedtime favourites. He always regretted never having actually seen the phenomena. Now, he squeezed for all he was worth.

The air thickened, turning dark as it let out a tortured screech. A gyrating finger wormed its way out of the bottom, heading down towards the plaza.

One of the sodden platoon members managed to fire a shot at Edeard. Dinlay saw it coming, his third hand pushing the soldier's gun arm aside. The bullet went wide, and Dinlay physically punched the man to the ground. Lieutenant Eustace jumped on Dinlay, and all three slipped on the wet path, going down in a thrashing heap. Another soldier leapt on.

Every petal of blossom in the plaza took to the air, a solid pink cloud that mushroomed over the nearby rooftops. The twister touched the pile of blazing furniture blocking Burfol Street. Flaming wreckage lifted effortlessly into the sky, swirling round and round the howling column. Two hundred feet above the city the chunks broke free, slung out sideways from the expanding wind. Militiamen and rioters alike ran for their lives as heavy burning chairs and benches and tables began their fast drop back to the ground.

Two soldiers jumped on Kanseen. She pivoted as they carried her along, sending herself and one of them over the edge of the canal to plunge beneath the water.

Edeard shifted the tip of the twister along the ground and steered it into the barricade at the bottom of Jankal Lane. As one collection of burning debris descended, so another fountained upwards.

Lieutenant Eustace scrambled up out of the scrum that had Dinlay pinned down. Macsen faced him, his smile turning feral. 'Don't know what you're so upset over. Our whole dormitory agreed she's crap in bed.

Eustace roared in fury as he rushed Macsen.

Edeard let go of the air he'd shaped just before his strength gave out. In front of him, the three remaining soldiers from the platoon were gathering together as Macsen and Eustace grappled like wrestling serpents on the slippery path.

'Go, Macsen yelled.

Edeard walked forward, his cloak undulating behind him. The trembling soldiers got off a couple of shots, which the Water-walker never even seemed to notice. They flattened themselves against the wall of the canalside houses as he passed them, rigid in fearful expectation.

When Edeard reached the plaza the regiment was starting to regroup. Several officers yelled a challenge to him, which he ignored. Orders were shouted and longtalked, trying to get the ranks reformed and take aim on the figure in the black billowing cloak. A shower of tiny petals fell softly back to earth.

Edeard stood at the head of Burfol Street, seeing people peer timidly out of the doorways and alleys where they'd dodged the rain of furniture. 'Move! he bellowed at them. 'If you stay hero the militia will kill you, and if I catch you it'll go even worse on your soul.

They started to run. Just a few at first. Then the Waterwalker advanced down the street. He raised his arm and lightning streamed from his fingers to claw at the denuded espalier trees. The stampede began. Dozens were pelting for safety ahead of the terrible figure they feared the most. His farsight showed him people on the move all across Sampalok. The crowds who minutes before had been secure in their domination of the streets were heading for the last refuge: Bise's mansion.

Edeard almost faltered as he drew level with the first body. It was a woman who'd taken three bullets; tiny petals drifted down to settle on her bloody clothes. His farsight examined the area around her, to find her soul hovering above the corpse. 'I'm so sorry, he told her. 'I should have been quicker.

Her spectral face was despondent as she looked at him. 'My boys, what about my boys? They're so young.

'They will be taken care of, I promise.

'I will see them before I go, she said, and began to drift towards a nearby alley. 'I can feel them close. One last look, to be sure.

Edeard grimaced, and carried on. In total he counted fifteen dead, with over twenty hobbling along in front of him, clutching at their wounds, blood dripping onto the pavement. He directed his longtalk at them, whispering that they should turn down side alleys where doctors would come. Some obeyed, eight didn't.

Owain's longtalk found him as he was halfway down Burfol Street. 'I don't know what you think you can achieve by this. Stand aside, and let the militia deal with this scum. I'll see to it that the commission is sympathetic to the part you played today.

'The Lady's miracle, Edeard replied, not caring that the rest of the city could sense his longtalk.

'Excuse me?

'The Lady performed a miracle in Makkathran once, and I'm going to repeat it today.

'You are beyond salvation, Waterwalker.

'Then let me be.

'I can't do that.

Echoing down the street came the command: 'Regiment, forward march.

'Want to bet, Edeard muttered under his breath, then: 'Boyd, I hope you're watching this. It's your Lady-damned idea.

He slowed his walk slightly; making sure that those fleeing into the mansion would have time to reach it before he did. Behind him, the regiment pressed on down the street. They matched his own pace, maintaining the distance perfectly. That caused him to grin.

'Edeard, Salrana's unnervingly accurate longtalk said to him alone. 'What have you become?

this is something

'I am what I have always been.

'The strength yes, but this arrogance new.

'They gave me no choice.

'Edeard, you are acting against the wishes of the whole city. Stop this.

'Today has to end with the gangs destroyed and banished. Nothing else matters any more.

'What you are doing is wrong. You are claiming all responsibility. You are abusing your gifts to defy the Council itself.

'Long ago, Rah used his strength to gift people sanctuary from chaos. I can do nothing less with my gift, my strength. To fail now would be to betray everything he founded, all that he gave this world.

'Don't you dare invoke Rah. You are not Rah.

'I know. But I will not let his wonderful legacy wither and die. That is who I am. Accept that.

'I will pray to the Lady for the light that was once your beautiful soul.

Edeard ground his teeth together. He wrenched his attention away from his childhood friend. / cannot let this distract me. She will not! And not everyone doubt me.

As if seeking a counter to Salrana's dreadful mistrust, Edeard's directed longtalk sought out Felax, who was still on the Mid Pool concourse. 'I could do with some help.

'Yes, sir, Felax said proudly. 'Of course I'll help.

The boy's unswerving trust was humbling. 'I need you and others you can rely on to run to the senior sergeants at each bridge. Tell them the Waterwalker needs the farsight teams to keep tracking the Hundred, and in addition to find as many of those named on the exclusion warrants as they can. Also, if this goes our way, I'll need the arrest teams to reform; they'll In wanted for escort duties.

'Yes, sir I'll do that right away. But sir, I want to help you, I want to be there with you.

'This is truly what I need. If you do this for me, we can still turn this day around.

'I knew you would, sir; I knew it.

Edeard was a hundred yards from the end of Burfol Street. He could see the big open square surrounding Bise's mansion. Fountains still played in the pools, providing the only movement in the whole expanse. Behind them, the iron-bound gates in the high wall were swinging shut.

He walked out into the square, and looked up at the circular mansion. Over a hundred people were standing along the top of the battlements on the external wall, as far as his farsight could tell they were all armed. Every revolver was lined up on him.

Behind them, the seven-storey tower formed a proud silhouette against a sky stained by pyres of smoke. Its walls were a mottle of green and yellow, with each level a shade lighter than the last. The top floor was almost white. Bise stood on the roof, his splendid robes of office waving in the gentle wind. His longtalk washed out, strong enough to reach over half the city.

'You have no authority here, Waterwalker. The District Master has full dominion within his own walls. Leave this place.

Edeard was immensely tempted to reply with a single hand gesture. Instead he said: 'Wait there, please. I have to deal with militia first. He turned his back on the mansion. A couple of shots were fired. He deflected the bullets easily. Heated orders flowed along the battlements. And nobody fired again.

Edeard waited patiently, with the farsight of the entire city resting upon him. He felt ridiculously cocky, and rejoiced in every second of the sensation.

Yeah, this is bold!

The militia regiment reached the end of Burfol Street and halted. The first three ranks took aim on the lone figure in the middle of the square whose cloak hung around him with unnatural stillness. Fountains gurgled away merrily on either side of him.

'Captain Larose, the Waterwalker said. 'I'm glad it's you. You are a man of integrity.

The captain stepped forward, and nodded courteously. 'As are you, Waterwalker. Would you please step aside so we may carry out our orders, as issued by the city's full legal authority.

'What are those orders?

'We are to arrest those malefactors hiding inside the District Master's mansion.

'They are heavily armed.

'As are we.

'Yes, and I will not permit bloodshed on such a scale those orders would entail. Not in my city. I will deal with Bise and those he harbours, you have my word. Edeard turned full circle, his longtalk growing stronger. 'Everyone has my word on that.

'Unfortunately, after today, your word is no longer enough, Captain Larose said. 'Stand aside Waterwalker, or I will be forced to order my men to shoot you.

Edeard gave the captain a genuine smile. 'And how, exactly, are they going to do that from up there? And he asked the city for its help.

'Up where? Captain Larose suddenly gave the ground a nervous glance. He started to crouch in an attempt to regain what he perceived as his failing balance. It was a motion which pushed his polished boots firmly against the pavement. A motion which pushed him off the pavement.

Behind him, three hundred soldiers did exactly the same thing as their senses told them they were falling. Three hundred soldiers began to drift up gently into the air. They yelled in consternation, and began windmilling their arms in panic. Thai only made it worse. They spun and twisted. Several of them bounced off the vine-clad walls of the buildings on either side of the street, which sent them tumbling through the main cluster of their frantic colleagues.

Edeard stood perfectly still watching them. The noise of their combined shouting was colossal, and the mental panic flooding out was enough to make him wince. Most of the soldiers weir ten or twelve feet from the ground now, and still their limbs were clawing wildly at the air. He noticed that the majority were holding on to their revolvers, and shook his head in rueful disbelief.

'You should try and use your third hands to guide yourselves together, Edeard advised. 'If you link up you'll probably be more stable that way.

'Stop this! Captain Larose bawled. He was turning lazily, his legs coming up parallel to the street below.

Edeard held up his hands apologetically, as if mystified by what he was witnessing. 'I'm not doing anything.

Larose's eyes bugged. He managed to bring his arm over and round, the revolver muzzle tracking down slowly towards Edeard.

'I really wouldn't do that if I were—

Larose fired. The powerful recoil force sent him cartwheeling fast back down Burfol Street. He careered into several of his men on the way, sending them spinning off. It wasn't good for their inner ears.

Edeard pulled a face as the first soldier was spectacularly sick fifteen feet above the pavement. Instead of splattering down, his vomit oscillated through the air, forming strange nebula shapes of its own. The horrified soldier next to him watched helplessly as he collided in slow motion. Then others started to spew up. The regiment's initial cries of shock changed in pitch to become wails of disgust.

Edeard held up a finger in remonstration. 'Don't go away. I'll be back in a little while; we can talk about you holstering your weapons then. He turned to face the mansion. This time, nobody on the battlements took a pot-shot at him.

The entirety of Makkathran was very quiet.

The Waterwalker looked up at the distant figure of District Master Bise. 'You claim jurisdiction here, yet you forget that with power comes responsibility. You and your family have continually abused your position and allowed the gangs to spread throughout your district. You encourage defiance and manipulation of the law to your own ends. The result of this is the misery and deaths that we have witnessed today.

'It is not me who brings—

'BE SILENT. Edeard aimed his right hand. A colossal bolt of lightning snapped out from his fingertip, striking the top of the tower roof a yard from where Bise was standing. Smouldering chunks of wall twirled out, falling to the courtyard far below. Bise cowered, his arms raised in front of his face.

'You forget, Master Bise, that neither you nor the Grand Council is the final authority here. We are all guests of the city itself. Living here is not a right, it is a privilege. As of this day the city revokes that right for you. The family Diroal is hereby stripped of its position and wealth; half of all its money will be redistributed as recompense among those of Sampalok who have suffered this day, the remainder will go to the new Master. 1 also add to that list of banishment all those who are named in the exclusion warrants. You will now leave Makkathran and you will not return. Ever.

'Not even you can force that upon us, Bise replied.

'No, Edeard agreed equitably. 'I cannot. The city, however, can. And it will begin with the revocation of your mansion.

For a long minute Edeard and Bise stared at each other. Nothing seemed to happen. Laughter began among those on the wall's battlements; catcalls and taunts rang out again.

The giant iron-bound gates in front of Edeard emitted a staggeringly loud crack. People gasped, and leaned over the battlements to see what was happening. The gates appeared to be intact.

Bise's shielded mind suddenly flared with dismay. The edge of the roof where it curved to blend smoothly into the tower walls was changing. It loosened and fractured, turning to the finest dust which then flowed as a liquid. Rivulets of the stuff dribbled down the wall towards the floor below. The rivulets grew to a deluge, swamping the delicate green and yellow patterns. Bise stared down as the accelerating tide began to rise over his boots.

'If I were you, Edeard advised mildly, 'I'd come down while you still have stairs to come down on.

The gates sent out another agonized rasping. The sturdy hinge bolts driven over eighteen inches into the substance of the walls were being rejected. The process which always pushed out human fixings over time was speeding up. From inside the mansion a whole series of squeals and brassy groans could be heard as every door was forced out of its frame. Pictures fell off the walls as the hanging spikes popped out. Shelves in the pantries and storerooms crashed to the floor, spilling their contents.

Bise turned and ran for the stairwell.

Water drained from the bathing pools on every floor in the mansion. The orange lighting segments dimmed to extinction. Crystal windows popped like soap bubbles. Doors fell, crashing down. Then the solid walls started to crawl as they slowly lost cohesion, transforming into a vertical tide of liquid dust.

The family Diroal and all their servants rushed for the stairs. Ge-chimps and monkeys and terrestrial cats raced past them, adding to the bedlam in the darkened stairwells. Bise had barely got halfway down to the sixth floor when the roof finally dissolved. Sunlight shone down into the exposed top floor rooms, revealing the carpets and wobbling furniture being slowly engulfed by a cascade of dust. He moaned in terror and ran faster. Under his pounding feet, he could feel the surface of the curving awkward stairs start to become slippery.

One by one, the three gates in the outside wall slowly warped out of alignment as their fastenings finally came free. They pivoted with an unhurried grace, and toppled down into the square. Nobody was left on the battlements to see their final moment. They were surging down the stairs in a desperate bid to reach the courtyard and safety.

In total it took over thirty minutes for the entire building to melt away, for it was a gigantic edifice and not even the city could reabsorb its mass any quicker. During that time, the constable teams Edeard asked for arrived in the square and formed a circle five men deep around the vanishing mansion.

Captain Ronark was among them. He saluted the Waterwalker, as did the sergeants. They listened to his simple orders before organizing their men as he wanted.

At the end, when the last stubs of the wall washed away, the area where the mansion had stood was reduced to a small lake of dust. It turned solid as rock. Piled up on it was a mound of smashed furniture, and clothes and curtains and carpets and linen, books and bottles of wine, broken crockery, bent cutlery — all the glittery detritus that any incredibly wealthy family would accumulate over two millennia. Ranged around that were the survivors; sullen and resentful, but most of all fearful of the Waterwalker and his power. They glowered as Edeard addressed them, but none dared to interrupt or argue.

'If you are a Diroal or one of those I named, you will hand over your weapons to the constables, he told them. 'And you will walk from here to the North Gate. The constables will escort you, and safeguard your passage. You may take with you whatever you can carry, and no more. Everyone else is free to go.

Captain Ronark headed the motley procession, square-shouldered and glowing with pride, taking them down Jankal Lane.

'I'll join you in a moment, Edeard told him, and walked over the square to Burfol Street. The regiment was still floating gently between the buildings. Several dozen had managed to cling to the vines, where they hung trembling. No matter how hard they clutched the fronds, their stomachs still insisted they were falling. The air was filled with little globules of tacky fluid. Edeard wrinkled his nose as he approached. The smell was truly awful.

His third hand drew Captain Larose to the front of the falling zone the city had created for him.

'I don't have orders for you, because I am not the Mayor, Edeard said as he looked up at the miserable man in his appallingly stained uniform. 'However, I would like to suggest that the regiment help the victims of this day. Do you find that suggestion sensible, Captain?

'Yes, the captain whispered.

'Thank you. My pardon for any discomfort. Please, all of you, engage your safety catches; nobody wants an accident now.

The regiment sank slowly down to the ground.

Edeard joined the line of constables on escort duty. The ones he fell in with were from Fiacre station; they welcomed him with muted smiles, trying not to appear too triumphal, but their thoughts were so bright it was hard to disguise. His farsight showed him Kristabel arriving in Mid Pool. She was on a family gondola, with Acena, their old doctor. Behind her was a procession of thirty gondolas, each with a couple of doctors, and several novices.

'The militia will be with you in a while, Edeard told her. 'They'll help you aid the victims. Try and ignore the smell.

'I'm not sure I want their help, she replied tartly.

'No recriminations, my love. We all have to live together after this.

'Yes. Of course.

'Can you talk to your father for me? I'd like a ship loaded with food and blankets to sail north this afternoon. It can anchor just offshore and supply the exiles with enough to get them through the next few days. We can't just fling them out with nothing. There are children going with them.

'There are times, Edeard, when it's really hard to live up to your standards of decency, but there isn't a day goes by when I don't thank the Lady you have those standards. I'll talk to Daddy right away.

As Edeard and the banished made their way across Sampalok, small groups of constables guided other people to join them: the men who had exclusion warrants issued against them. Sometimes their wives and children were with them, sometimes they came alone. As they walked onwards Edeard felt the continued intangible pressure of farsight pressing down on the morose column of unfortunates. He could feel the unconscious question brewing within the city's residents: what next? It was a question he was a little vague on himself.

'I need some advice, sir, he said to Finitan.

'I think all of us are redundant now, aren't we? the Grand Master replied.

'That's the thing, I can't be seen as some kind of emperor standing outside the Council. All of us have to work within the framework of the law, otherwise it becomes an irrelevance, and people can't live without the order it brings. That's what today was about, restoring order. We can't lose now. People have died.

'I know. Even until the last minute, I thought Owain would pull back. If you are willing to accept the constraints of the law then it should be possible to start afresh. Not that it will be easy. However, once people have time to reflect, and with some encouragement, they should be able to see that you were acting for the best. We just have to have a strategy that can take us up to the election. That is when you and I both will face the ultimate judgement.

'I know that. I have some ideas.

'Very well, my boy, let's hear them.

Kanseen, Dinlay and Macsen were on the Cloud Canal bridge, sitting together on one of its twisty pillars. They'd spread their jackets on the next pillar to dry in the bright sunlight. Kanseen's wet hair clung to her scalp like a bad beret. Her knuckles were grazed and muddy. Dinlay was trying to clean the one intact lens left in his glasses. Not that it mattered much, one eye was so badly swollen he could barely see through it. His lip was split, and still dribbling blood. He'd taken his boots off, so that his left ankle could be bound in a thick bandage. Macsen's nose was broken. Two small wads of tissue were jammed up each nostril, scarlet with blood. His jacket was missing, and his shirt under the drosilk waistcoat was ripped, revealing a lot of scratches and bruises on his arms.

They didn't get up as Edeard approached, they just sat their watching him in silence. He stopped in front of them. 'Don't tell me, he said. 'I should see the other fellows.

Kanseen sneered. 'If there was anything left of them.

'You stood by me, he told them. 'You believed in me. You took on Eustace's idiots so I could get through.

Macsen turned to Dinlay and grinned. 'Eustace's idiots. Good name for that platoon.

'We can probably get it made official, Dinlay conceded. He eased himself off the short pillar, wincing at the movement as he put some weight on his sprained ankle. 'Come here.

Edeard embraced him, unbelievably happy that no harm had befallen his surviving friends — well, nothing permanent. Then Kanseen stepped into his outheld arms. Finally Macsen gave him a hug.

'Ouch!

'You all right? Edeard asked anxiously.

'He might be a complete tit, Macsen's index finger probed his nose gingerly. 'But he knows how to fight dirty, I'll give him that. .

'So, Dinlay said. 'We get to stay constables.

Edeard gave Macsen and Kanseen a mildly guilty look. 'For the moment, yes. You going to help me with this escort duty?

Dinlay gave his bandaged ankle an annoyed look. 'I don't think I can make it all the way to North Gate.

'The doctors will be here soon, Edeard assured him. 'How about you two?

'Bloody Honious, it's all go with you, isn't it?

The march over High Moat was swift enough. By the time Ronark reached North Gate, Edeard counted nearly eight hundred people in the column. He hated that so many women and children were being taken along, but there was nothing he could do about that, not now. It was always going to be like this.

The road on both sides of the giant gate was deserted. Edeard and the constables stopped at the crystal wall. Bise, who was at the head of the column, paused at the giant archway through the wall.

'A ship will anchor in Cauley cove this evening, Edeard told the ex-District Master. 'It has provisions for you; all of you.

Bise glared at him. 'Where are we supposed to go?

'There are fresh lands in the provinces. You can begin again if you wish.

'I am a District Master, Bise yelled furiously. Over fifty members of the Diroal family were gathered behind him, all of them wearing clothes appropriate to their status, and completely wrong to be wearing for a march through the countryside. Hems on the fanciful skirts of the older women were already ragged and filthy as they dragged along High Moat's dusty track. The men were carrying their fur-lined robes, and sweating in their gaudy shirts and trousers. Two of the younger wives were carrying crying babes. Not one of them had footwear that would last more than a couple of days on the road.

Edeard did his best not to feel guilt or sorrow at the misery arrayed in front of him. 'If you had lived up to your responsibilities you still would be, he said. 'Now leave while I'm still feeling generous.

'You won't live past midnight, Bise spat.

Edeard smiled without humour. 'I hope you're not relying on Warpal or Motluk to make that a reality.

Bise paled. He glanced up at the archway, and marched through with his head held high. His family trudged after him.

'He'll be in some friend's Iguru pavilion by nightfall, Captain Ronark declared. 'Dressed in fresh clothes, sipping wine, and plotting revenge while the rest of these unfortunates are shivering on the side of the road.

'I know, Edeard said as those named on the exclusion warrants began to file past, calling names and swearing vengeance. 'The important thing is the banishment itself. Without the most active gang members, we can achieve order in the city. Besides, how long do you think Bise will be welcome in that pavilion? A fortnight? A month? How long would you feed and clothe his whole family? He'll be moved on eventually; further and further away from us.

'I hope so.

'Thank you for your support, sir, Edeard said.

'You would have it a thousand times over, Waterwalker. I've given my life to the constables, and achieved so little. You have restored the city's faith in us, in the law. That means a lot to me, and probably to more people than you realize.

'I was hoping you could talk to Walsfol for me.

'I will have words. It might be easier than you expect. The Mayor's actions today left a lot of people shocked and disturbed.

'I need to remain a constable.

'There's a position that I believe would serve very well.

'What position?

'Captain of Jeavons station.

Edeard gave the old man a startled look. 'But sir—

'I'm almost at retirement age anyway, and there are posts in the Chief Constable's office where I can sit out my time. Look at me, I'm here watching the worst bastards in the city march into banishment; people I've spent decades trying to stop. It doesn't get better than this. You taking charge of Jeavons is fitting, and it will put you in a good position to achieve Chief Constable in a few years. Walsfol is my age, you know.

'That is… enormously generous, sir.

'It's good politics. And I think you've learned what's most important in this city now.

'Yes sir!

Eight constables escorted Buate to the North Gate. Edeard gave the man a dismissive glance, and told the constables to let him go.

'I don't know what you are, Waterwalker, Buate said, 'but you'll never last.

'You're probably right. But while I'm here, you're not. And that gives everyone a chance at a better life.

Buate turned away, and walked through the North Gate.

'Now that's a sight I never thought I'd see, Kanseen said as Buate gave the grassland outside a disgusted look. He strode away, keeping himself apart from the other exiles tramping along.

'Worth remembering, though, Macsen said. 'So what's next, mighty Waterwalker?

'Sampalok, and then a wedding, Edeard told them. 'And if you ever call me that again, you'll find yourself living with Buate in a hut in the furthest province I can find.

'Ohooo touchy!

'What do you mean a wedding? Kanseen asked.

'I need to talk to yo— Edeard broke off. His arm suddenly shot out, pointing at the last few stragglers in the column going through North Gate. 'Not you! He beckoned. 'Come here.

The teenage lad gave a guilty start, looking round to try and see who the Waterwalker was pointing at.

'Yes, you, Edeard said.

The lad certainly looked like he should be exiled; curly brown hair that hadn't seen soap for weeks, a scratchy beard just starting, bad outbreak of spots on both cheeks. His clothes were clearly tailored for someone else, with a belt holding up trousers whose legs were crudely cut to size — because he wasn't particularly tall for his age. He wore a patched jacket with bulging pockets, filled with food and some small silver items looted from Sampalok shops. His only expression was sullen, and he wouldn't meet anyone's gaze.

His parents came with him, clinging defensively. Edeard remembered the father, a gang member working rackets out of Abad.

'What's your name? Edeard asked.

'You leave him alone, the woman cried. 'We're going, what more do you bastards want from us?

The lad gave Edeard the kind of surly stare that only a Sampalok youth could manage. 'What do they call you? he asked benignly.

'Marcol. What's it to you?

'And your father is Arcton, I know, and your mother…?

'Janeel, she said uncertainly. 'What is this?

'Marcol here has a very strong third hand.

Marcol reddened. 'I don't!

'There aren't many in this city who can pull a ge-eagle out of the sky from such a height.

'Wasn't me.

'You're loyal to your parents, aren't you? Edeard mused. 'You'd have to be if you're leaving with them. You're old enough to stay and look after yourself if you really want; after all, you're not named in any warrant.

'You let him be, Janeel said, her arms went protectively round her son.

'I ain't staying here, Marcol said defiantly.

'I'll make you an offer, Edeard said. 'I'll cancel your father's banishment, if you sign on as a probationary constable at Jeavons station.

'What? Arcton and Janeel gave each other a disbelieving look.

'Edeard? a puzzled Kanseen queried.

'Two conditions, Edeard said. 'Marcol has to complete his probation and graduate; and you, Arcton, get a job and keep out of trouble.

'Are you serious? Arcton asked.

'I'm the Waterwalker.

'He doesn't do funny, Macsen informed them curtly.

'Yes, Janeel said, she looked ready to burst into tears. 'Yes we'll do it.

'Marcol? Edeard asked. 'What do you say? It won't be easy.

'Why are you doing this? It was more like a grunt than a sentence.

Edeard put his arm round Marcol's shoulder, and drew him aside. 'Have you got a girlfriend?

'Yeah! Hundreds.

'Hundreds, eh? You're lucky. I didn't, not before I joined the constables. Do you know how many I had after I became the Waterwalker? Did you hear about that part of my life?

Marcol came perilously close to smiling. 'Sort of.

'Girls, especially fancy family girls, like men in uniform, particularly those of us who are stronger than everyone else. They really like that.

'Yeah?1

'It's never easy being a probationary constable, but can it be harder than trying to be a farm boy on the other side of the Iguru? Is that what you want to be?

'No.

'So will you give it a try? For your mum's sake if nothing else. Look at her; she doesn't want to be thrown out of the city. But I don't have a choice: your dad did wrong, except now you've got a chance to put it all right.

'Okay. I'll do it.

'Thank you. Edeard turned to Arcton and Janeel. 'You can go home. Have him at Jeavons station seven o'clock tomorrow morning; washed and looking respectable.

'Yes, Waterwalker. Thank you, Waterwalker.

'What in Honious was that about? Macsen asked. 'You can't seriously think he'll make a constable?

Edeard grinned. 'We did.

The last of the banished walked through North Gate. Edeard turned to address the big crowd of constables who had completed the escort duty. 'People will remember this day because of what I did. But none of that would be possible without your support, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the way you stood by me today. You made this happen just as much as me. His third hand reached for the giant iron hinges which held the gate itself. The latching mechanism creaked in protest as he lifted it. A flurry of rust flakes snowed down on to the grass from the cumbersome mechanism. Then he pulled the gate itself. The constables started cheering as the huge section of crystal swung back into the hole which Rah himself had cut it out of two thousand years ago. It made such a crunching noise that Edeard thought the ancient crystal might finally shatter. But instead, it fitted the archway perfectly. He thought such a dramatic gesture was an apt way to finish the banishment.

Kathlynn, Kanseen's sister, was standing in the square next to the pile of wreckage which had been the Diroal family's possessions. She was holding little Dium in her arms; he was sucking on a honey ball and squirming round energetically. Dybal and

Bijulee were standing beside her. All three of them talking to Dinlay who was sitting on a battered old pew of talcherry wood salvaged from the pile. A lot of Sampalok residents were busy salvaging. They swarmed over the mound like drakken on carrion. People were carrying off heavy bundles of stuff down the roads from the square. Edeard thought at least a third of it had been taken already. Incredibly, that included one of the huge gates from the outer wall. A quick scan round with his farsight revealed the gate beside a smithy three streets away. The owner and his apprentices were already hammering at the big iron bindings.

'Right, Kanseen snapped as they emerged from Burfol Street and she saw Kathlynn. 'What's going on?

Kathlynn caught sight of them and waved happily.

Edeard held up a finger in pleading. 'One moment.

The Sampalok residents had stopped everything as the Water-walker returned to the square, giving him nervous glances. He smiled at them. 'Take whatever you want please, then stand back.

Several of the bolder ones took him at his word, and continued to pick through the remains.

'Edeard! Kanseen warned.

'Ah, here we go. Edeard had spied Kristabel emerging from one of the streets. She was wearing a lime-green dress and an apron with smears of blood on it. A Mother was walking beside her, an elderly woman stiff with suspicion. She presided over the Lady's church in Sampalok, one of the most thankless tasks in the district. It showed in her demeanour. She was a lot tougher than most of the Lady's Mothers Edeard had encountered.

Bijulee embraced Macsen, while Dybal clapped him on the back. Macsen yelped at the impact. Kanseen had now been saddled with the wriggling Dium who was delighted to see his auntie.

Kristabel gave Edeard a quick kiss. 'Are you all right?

'Yeah. But I really don't want any more days like this one.

'There won't be.

'Still want to marry me?

'Of course. Is that what this is about? she gestured at the Mother.

'No. Sorry. This is about maintaining the rule of law. That's what gives people hope. And they need that today of all days.

'I love you, she murmured.

The Mother coughed for attention. 'You asked to see me, Waterwalker.

'Yes, Mother. I think we might have a ceremony for you to perform.

'What kind of ceremony?

'Macsen, I believe our dearest friend told you not to waste any time.

'What?

Dybal started chuckling.

'Do you have something to ask somebody? Edeard said levelly. 'Right now.

Macsen gave him a frantic stare. 'You've got to be joking, he growled through lips which didn't move.

'I'm the Waterwalker, apparently I don't do funny.

The salvagers had claimed their prizes, now they were gathering to watch the latest bizarre spectacle to be played out in the square today. Constables also began to congregate, showing considerable interest. A lot of farsight was concentrating on tin-square again. Edeard held out an arm. A silver ring flashed out from the pile of debris to fly across the square into his hand. He proffered it to Macsen with a flourish. 'You might need this.

'Oh Lady. Macsen took the ring, his eyes widening in amazement at how many diamonds could fit on to such a small item. 'Really?

'Really, Edeard said.

Macsen took a breath and went down on one knee. 'Kanseen, I have never been happier than when I'm with you. Would you please do me the honour of marrying me? It might have been incredibly awkward with so many people straining to see and hear, but his face held a longing that was irrefutable.

'Yes, my darling, she said. 'I will marry you.

Several constables whistled and clapped in approval as Macsen put the ring on her finger. He frowned at Edeard as it slipped about. 'You couldn't find one that fitted?

'Mother, Edeard said. 'Would you please marry them now.

'Edeard, no, Kanseen said. 'Look at the state of me. My wedding is supposed to be… not this.

'I'm sorry, he said. 'I have my reason.

'Your reason?

He nodded.

'It had better be incredible, she muttered.

Dybal gave the bride away. Dinlay was best man. Kathlynn stood behind her sister, crying as she held the posy of flowers hurriedly snatched from plants in nearby streets. Kristabel and Bijulee took it in turns to cope with Dium who really wanted to be in on the action. Edeard held Kristabel's hand when he could, listening to the Mother's words with the heap of rubbish from the mansion as the background to the damp, dishevelled bride and groom. Constables formed a big semi-circle round them, with curious Sampalok residents making up a wider audience.

When it was over, when the promises were made, the rings exchanged, and the bride kissed, Edeard went up to his friends. His voice and longtalk filled the square.

'When Rah brought us out of the chaos to this place the city accepted us. When Rah allowed his most faithful friends and followers to become District Masters the city did not object, for he chose wisely. Down the centuries, the family Diroal slipped away from the ideals that were sworn at the beginning, and today is a result of that. None of us wish to defy Rah's constitution, least of all me; so I now publicly ask this city to accept the appointment of the new joint District Master and Mistress of Sampalok.

'Edeard! Kanseen hissed furiously.

The Waterwalker gestured, and the ground beneath the pile of expensive detritus turned fluid again. Everything left from the demise of Bise's mansion was sucked down below the surface amid a harsh gurgling sound. The crowd drew a sharp breath of excitement.

'Walk to the middle, Edeard said quietly as the city substance hardened again.

Macsen took his wife's hand, and urged her out into the big open space. Both of them radiated nerves as their soggy boots squelched on the ground, watched by over a thousand people in the square, and many times that number by farsight.

'The new Master and Mistress of Sampalok, Edeard announced. 'And their new mansion.

The surface began to ripple around Macsen and Kanseen. She jumped in apprehension and he hugged her tight — which gathered more than a little appreciation from their audience.

Six long dark lines firmed up on the ground around them, as if some architect was using the area to sketch an enormous hexagon. Smaller lines multiplied inside them, revealing the outlines of various rooms and cloisters. Then all the lines began to bulge up into ridges.

A radiantly happy Kanseen glanced across the empty space to Edeard. 'How long is this going to take?

'A little while. It's always quicker and easier to tear things down than it is to build them back up again.

'So? A week?

Edeard gave the tiny ridges a doubtful look. After five minutes they were nearly two inches high. Below them the city was ponderously rearranging its vast complicated network of channels and ducts to feed and support the new structure he'd hurriedly drafted. A building with proper stairs. Finally! 'Perhaps I'd better get you a tent as your wedding present.