“I’m going to be away for a week or so,” she said. “Shall I leave a deposit behind for the house?”

“I’m sure your word would be sufficient,” he said graciously. “Up to what level may I offer?”

“If it goes over a thousand pounds I’ll have to make special arrangements to transfer the funds.”

“Very well.” He stood up. “By your leave?”

Miriam’s last port of call was the central library. She spent two hours there, quizzing a helpful librarian about books on patent law. In the end, she took three away with her, giving her room at the hotel as an address. Carefully putting them in her shoulder bag she walked to the nearest main road and waved down a cab. “Roundgate Interchange,” she said. I’m going home, she thought. At last! A steam car puttered past them, overtaking on the right hand side. Back to clean air, fast cars, and electricity everywhere.

She gazed out of the cab’s window as the open field came into view through the haze of acrid fog that seemed to be everywhere today. I wonder how Brill and Paulie have been? she thought. It’ll be good to see them again.

It was dusk, and nobody seemed to have noticed the way that Miriam had damaged the side door of the estate. She slunk into the garden, paced past the hedge and the dilapidated greenhouse, then located the spot where she’d blazed a mark on the wall. A fine snow was falling as she pulled out the second locket and, with the aid of a pocket flashlight, fell headfirst into it.

She staggered slightly as the familiar headache returned with a vengeance, but a quick glance told her that nobody had come anywhere near this spot for days. A fresh snowfall had turned her hide into an anonymous hump in the gloom a couple of trees away. She waded toward it—then a dark shadow detatched itself from a tree and pointed a pistol at her.

“Brill?” she asked, uncertainly.

“Miriam!” The barrel dropped as Brill lurched forward and embraced her. “I’ve been so worried! How have you been?”

“Not so bad!” Miriam laughed, breathlessly. “Let’s get under cover and I’ll tell you about it.”

Brill had been busy; the snowbank concealed not only the hunting hide, but a fully assembled hut, six feet by eight, somewhat insecurely pegged to the iron-hard ground beneath the snow. “Come in, come in,” she said. Miriam stepped inside and she shut the door and bolted it. Two bunks occupied one wall, and a paraffin heater threw off enough warmth to keep the hut from freezing. “It’s been terribly cold by night, and I fear I’ve used up all the oil,” Brill told her. “You really must buy a wood stove!”

“I believe I will,” Miriam said thoughtfully, thinking about the coal smoke and yellow sulfurous smog that had made the air feel as if she was breathing broken glass. “It’s been, hmm, three days. Have you had any trouble?”

“Boredom,” Brilliana said instantly. “But sometimes boredom is a good thing. I have not been so alone in many years!” She looked slightly wistful. “Would you like some cocoa? I’d love to hear what adventures you’ve been having!”

That night Miriam slept fitfully, awakening once to a distant howling noise that raised the hair on her neck. Wolves? she wondered, before rolling over and dozing off again. Although the paraffin heater kept the worst of the chill at bay, there was frost inside the walls by morning.

Miriam woke first, sat up and turned the heat up as high as it would go, then—still cocooned in the sleeping bag—hung her jeans and hiking jacket from a hook in the roof right over the heater. Then she dozed off again. When she awakened, she saw Brill sitting beside the heater reading a book. “What is it?” she asked sleepily.

“Something Paulie lent me.” Brill looked slightly guilty. Miriam peered at the spine: The Female Eunuch. Sitting on a shelf next to the door she spotted a popular history book. Brill had been busy expanding her horizons.

“Hmm.” Miriam sat up and unzipped her bag, used the chamber pot, then hastily pulled on the now-defrosted jeans and a hiking sweater. Her boots were freezing cold—she’d left them too close to the door—so she moved them closer to the heater. “You’ve been thinking a lot.”

“Yes.” Brilliana put the book down. “I grew up with books; my father’s library had five in hoh’sprashe, and almost thirty in English. But this—the style is so strange! And what it says!”

Miriam shook her head. Too much to assimilate. “We’ll have to go across soon,” she said, shelving the questions that sat at the tip of her tongue—poisonous questions, questions about trust and belief. Brill seemed to be going through a phase of questioning everything, and that was fine by Miriam. It meant she was less likely to obey if Angbard or whoever was behind her told her to point a gun at Miriam. Searching her bag Miriam came up with her tablets, dry-swallowed them, then glanced around. “Anything to drink?”

“Surely.” Brill passed her a water bottle. It crackled slightly, but most of the contents were still liquid. “I didn’t realize a world could be so large,” Brill added quietly.

“I know how you feel,” Miriam said with feeling, running fingers through her hair—it needed a good wash and, now she thought about it, at least a trim—she’s spent the past four weeks so preoccupied in other things that it was growing wild and uncontrolled. “The far side is pretty strange to me, too. I think I’ve got it under control, but—” she shrugged uncomfortably. Private ownership of gold is illegal so there’s a black market in it, but opium and cocaine are sold openly in apothecary shops. Setting up a company takes an act of Parliament, but they can impeach the king. “Let’s just say, it isn’t quite what I was expecting. Let’s go home.”

“Alright.”

Miriam and Brill pulled their boots and coats on. Brill turned off the heater and folded the sleeping bags neatly, then went outside to empty the chamber pot. Miriam picked up her shoulder bag, and then went outside to join Brill on the spot she’d marked on her last trip. She took a deep breath, pulled out the locket with her left hand, took all of Brill’s weight on her right hip for a wobbly, staggering moment that threatened to pull her over, and focused—

On a splitting headache and a concrete wall as her grip slipped and Brill skidded on the icy yard floor. “Ow!” Brill stood up, rubbing her backside. “That was most indelicately done.”

“Could be worse.” Miriam winced at the pain in her temples, glanced around, and shook her head to clear the black patches from the edge of her vision. There was no sign of any intrusion, but judging by the boxes stacked under the metal fire escape—covered with polythene sheeting against the weamer—Paulette had been busy. “Come on inside, let’s fix some coffee and catch up on the news.”

The office door opened to Miriam’s key and she hastily punched in the code to disable the burglar alarm. Then she felt the heat, a stifling warmth that wrapped itself around her like a hot bath towel. “Wow,” she said, “come get a load of this.”

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Brill shut and locked the door behind her and looked around. “Ooh, I haven’t been this warm in days.’ She hastily opened her jacket and untied her boots, the better to let the amazing warmth from the under-floor heating get closer to her skin.

“You’ll want to use the shower next,” Miriam said, amused. “I could do with it too, so don’t be too long.” The shower in the office bathroom was cramped and cheap, but better than the antique plumbing arrangements on the far side. “I’ll make coffee.”

Miriam found her mobile phone in the front room. Its battery had run down while she’d been gone, so she plugged it in to recharge. She also found a bunch of useful items—

Paulette had installed a brand new desk telephone and modem line while she’d been away—and a bunch of paperwork from the city government.