However, standing beside Macsen was Doblek, master of Drupe. It was he who wore the Mayor’s robes.

That’s different, Edeard mused. Before, it was Trahaval who was Mayor at this time. He tried to convince himself that was a good thing even though he remembered Doblek as a mildly inadequate district master who admired the old traditions. Not a reformer, by any means.

The longboat reached Wharf One. Once the dock handlers had secured them, Edeard made his way up the wooden steps to mounting roars of approval from the waiting crowds. It was an invigorating sound, sending the timid seabirds wheeling still higher above the Port district. Just like the banishment, but without the violence and turmoil.

Not too grudgingly, Edeard raised an appreciative hand and grinned back at everyone on the docks who was producing such an effusive greeting.

“Waterwalker!” Mayor Doblek opened both arms wide and stepped forward to embrace Edeard. “This is a joyful day. Welcome, yes, welcome back. Did you really voyage around the whole world?”

The city quieted slightly, hanging on to the Mayor’s gifting, awaiting the answer.

“We did,” Edeard announced solemnly, but he couldn’t help the smile widening his lips.

The cheering began again.

Edeard disengaged himself from the Mayor’s clutches, turning slightly. “Mayor, I think you know my senior captain, Natran. And my daughter Jiska.”

“Of course.” The Mayor moved along the line of arrivals, delighted with more official duty, keeping himself firmly at the forefront of public attention.

“It’s crazy good, Granpa,” little Kiranan said, clinging to Edeard’s leg while his parents were swamped by the Mayor.

“What is?” Edeard asked.

“The city. Is this everyone in the whole world?”

Edeard hadn’t thought of that. Kiranan had never known anyone other than the crews in the flotilla; now he was confronted by the city’s jubilant population. Small wonder he was more subdued than usual. “Not even close,” Edeard assured the boy. He pushed his farsight out to the smaller wharf on the other side of the port entrance, where Kristabel and the twins were transferring to the family gondolas. Rolar was embracing his mother, and a host of grandchildren were jumping about excitedly, threatening to capsize the glossy black boat. Burlal wasn’t among them. Edeard was nonplussed by that. Instead of his young grandson, a little girl was cavorting around Rolar and Wenalee, maybe five months younger than the boy he was expecting to see. It wasn’t something he’d considered, that with this world diverging from what had gone before, his own grandchildren might be different. He knew now he should have been prepared for it. For a start, he’d been blessed with Kiranan, as well as the twins’ pregnancy, neither of which events had gone before. But he’d really loved little Burlal; the boy was such a gem. He gave the girl sharp scrutiny, which she responded to with a start; then she looked back at him across the water before burying herself in Wenalee’s skirts.

“So who’s this, then?” Dinlay asked.

Edeard’s smile returned in a weaker form. No Burlal? Edeard was still thinking. Lady, but he didn’t deserve oblivion like Tathal. That’s not right, not right at all. “This is my new grandson, Kiranan,” he managed to say levelly as he ruffled the lad’s hair.

“Granpa!” The boy twisted away. “You’re Dinlay. You were shot once. Granpa has told me all about you.”

“Has he, now? Well, you come and see me one day, and I’ll tell you about him. Everything he thinks you shouldn’t know.”

“Really? Promise?” The boy looked up admiringly at his new friend.

“Promise on the Lady.”

“Welcome home, Edeard,” Macsen said, and took Edeard’s hand warmly.

“So where’s Kanseen?” Edeard asked.

Macsen’s wide smile froze. “We called it a day,” he said with what was an attempt to maintain a jovial attitude. “Best for both of us.”

“No! I’m … sorry to hear that.” Lady, you can’t do this to me. They were still together before.

“She said she’ll see you later.”

“Okay, then.”

“And this is Hilitte,” Dinlay said proudly, ushering the tall girl forward. “We’ve been wed these last seven months.”

This bit was easy. Edeard had done this many many times, every time he had begun again. So yet again and as always he kept a composed face and smiled politely as he held out his hand to the robust girl. “Congratulations.” No disapproval shown, no surprise at her youth (younger than Jiska, easily), no confusion at the somehow familiar features smiling coquettishly back at him.

Macsen moved behind him, his mouth brushing past Edeard’s ear as if by chance. “Nanitte’s daughter,” he whispered.

Edeard coughed, hoping to Honious he was covering his shock.

“Thank you, Waterwalker,” she said in a husky voice-yes, definitely similar to that of her mother. And that coquettish smile deepened, becoming coy, appraising.

Edeard quickly turned back to Macsen. “Lady, it’s good to be back.”

“So you really went the whole way around the world?” Dinlay asked.

“We certainly did. Ah, the stories I have to tell you.”

“And?”

Edeard knew exactly what the question was. “There’s only us. No one else.”

Dinlay’s disappointment was all the more prominent amid the rejoicing inflaming the city. “Ah, well,” he sighed.

“What’s going on outside the North Gate?” Edeard asked.

“Those bastards-” Macsen began.

“Macsen,” Dinlay said awkwardly. “The Waterwalker hasn’t even seen his family yet after four years. We’ve held the peace for this long; we can wait a day more. Edeard, it’s nothing to worry about. We have the situation under control.”

Macsen gave a reluctant nod. “Of course. I’m sorry, old friend. This is wrong of me. There’s so much I want to hear about.”

“And by the Lady, you shall,” Edeard promised.

It was several days before Edeard found the time to meet privately with his old friends. The first two days were spent happily enough greeting his family and getting to know the latest additions; then, for one day, he was banished to a lounge on the ninth floor of the ziggurat with the other senior males of the family, to feel worthless and faintly guilty while Taralee, two midwifes, several Novices, Kristabel, and even Marvane helped the twins give birth. For once they didn’t synchronize perfectly; Marilee gave birth to her two daughters a good five hours before Analee produced a son and a daughter. After that, of course, was the formal Culverit tradition of the arrival breakfast, where an overwhelmed Marvane sat in a daze receiving congratulations from his new family.

Lunchtime on the fourth day after the flotilla arrived back saw Edeard take a gondola down to Sampalok. He walked along Mislore Avenue to the square at the center of the district. Every building he passed was occupied. No matter how small or awkward, every cluster of rooms had someone living there: bachelor, bachelorette, couple, small young family, stubborn old widower or widow. There was nothing left for any newcomer.

At the end of the avenue the six-sided mansion was a welcome sight. He always felt a mild satisfaction every time he saw it, something he’d created, something oddly reassuring.

This time, the square around it had none of the makeshift camps of stopover visitors awaiting guidance. It was back to a pre-Skylord normality, with Sampalok residents strolling around the fountains while kids played football and hoop chase in the sunshine. Stalls on either side of Burfol Street were doing a good trade in sugared fruits and cool drinks.

People smiled graciously at the Waterwalker in his customary black cloak. Once there was a time when he would have welcomed such a greeting from the citizens of Sampalok; now he found it hard to return those smiles. But I’m being unfair. It’s not just this district that’s to blame.