In the short time they had to plan the ambush, Caldason and Serrah had thought about speed. They had a contingency to help overcome the guards as quickly as possible. Reeth signalled the men on the roof and set it in motion.

The fading light obscured what was happening up there. Something was tossed from the roof – for a second it looked like a mottled black cloud. Instantly it descended, dome-shaped as it fell.

A large weighted fishing net came down on the surviving escorts. They yelled and flailed in the tangle. The band rushed forward and subdued them with sword butts and clubs. They disarmed them and secured the net with rope. So many flies in a giant spider’s web.

Serrah was at Caldason’s shoulder. ‘Seems like letting them off lightly.’

‘Would you rather we tethered them to a team of horses and sent them off over a cobbled road?’

She smiled. ‘It’s no more than they deserve.’

‘Maybe. But I’ve always tried not to stoop to their level. I reckon you feel the same.’ Before she could answer, he went on, ‘We need to move fast now. Let’s go.’

The band gathered their wounded, and their dead, and lashed them to horses. Some were put into the wagons. All hands set to hauling clear the tree blocking the way ahead. The other was left where it was, to hinder any pursuit. They weren’t brutal with the enemy wounded, which might not have been the case if things had gone the other way. The prisoners were simply left, securely bound, to await rescue; and no doubt punishment for allowing their consignment to fall into Resistance hands.

A rendezvous had been fixed a mile or two on, where the spoils would be loaded onto smaller vehicles and dispersed.

Caldason took the reins on the lead wagon himself. Serrah sat beside him.

‘Our first successful mission,’ she said.

‘Think so?’ His voice was suddenly cold.

‘Don’t you?’

He didn’t answer, and they made the rest of the journey in a stiff silence.

All the while, Caldason’s eyes were on the city’s glittering splendour and phoney rainbows.

A fiery streak sliced the heavens. It could have been a shooting star. More likely it was somebody flaunting their wealth.

Seen from the summit of an outlying hill, Valdarr met the horizon and appeared to blend seamlessly into the night sky. The powdering of stars above silently mirrored the rippling colours and bursts of radiance below.

Two people sat on a pallid, long-dead tree trunk. They had little interest in the view.

‘What do you mean,

not good enough

?’ Serrah demanded.

‘We lost three men,’ Caldason reminded her.

‘And twice that many got wounded. I’m aware of that. It’s tragic, but they knew what they were signing up for. There are always casualties.’

‘You were the one so concerned about losing lives.’

‘I was worried about them being lost

recklessly

.’

‘Didn’t you feel bad when you lost members of your team, back in Merakasa?’

Serrah looked pained at that.

‘Sorry, of course you did.’ He added, ‘I didn’t mean it to be a dig about what happened to you, either.’

‘All right.’

‘But it’s a question of responsibility and -’

‘Yes, I know. Naturally I felt responsible if any of my band got killed or hurt. That even goes for the fool who landed me in this mess, although I’ve no reason to blame myself. But I have to say that for a man so used to combat you seem pretty troubled about this.’

‘You don’t understand. It’s to do with… I suppose you’d call it control.’

‘You’re right, I don’t understand.’

‘When the Qaloch were being cleared from their land, when we were being massacred, I was helpless. Not just for myself; I couldn’t help anybody else. People I was honour-bound to stand by and protect were slaughtered in front of me. I had no control.’

‘How could you? I don’t know the details of what happened to your people, but I do know the odds against you were crushing. And you were taken unawares, stabbed in the back.’

‘You sound like somebody who knows about betrayal.’

‘I wouldn’t be here without it, trying to adjust to everything that’s changed in my life.’

‘Exactly. Betrayal’s a form of powerlessness too.’

‘In the sense that I had no control over what happened, yes. But in the end it might be liberating, for all the pain involved. It made me see the world in a different way. Made me realise the true nature of the system I was serving.’

It seemed to Reeth that she was trying to make the best of it. He kept the thought to himself. ‘I’ve never been blind to the order of things,’ he said. ‘Or been part of it.’

‘Then you should be perfect for the Resistance.’

‘So everybody tells me.’

‘At least freedom’s more than just a word to them, Reeth.’

‘In the end they’re only another kind of system.’

‘But a much better one than anything we’ve got. Potentially, anyway.’

‘So you’re a prime candidate for the Resistance too?’

‘As long as it suits me.’

‘That’s more or less the way I see it. Not that I’m finding it easy, and today didn’t make it any easier.’

‘Ironic, isn’t it?’ A mellow smile played on Serrah’s lips. ‘I’m having to learn to accept a different kind of authority, and you’re having to learn to accept

any

kind of authority. I wonder if either of us are cut out for it?’

He left the question hanging and asked one of his own. ‘What do you think about this grand scheme of Karr’s?’

‘An island state? I don’t suppose I know any more about it than you do. You could call it visionary, I guess. Utopian, even. But it does have a certain attraction.’

‘You’d go there, be part of it?’

‘You’re assuming I’d be invited. If I was… well, I really don’t know. I’d need to be told a lot more about it. Would you go?’

‘I’m not convinced Karr’s dream will ever happen.’

‘Yet here we are helping the cause.’

‘Or helping ourselves.’

‘It sounds less than charitable when you put it that way.’

‘Perhaps.’

Tethered nearby, their horses had their heads down, grazing the long grass.

‘Whatever the reason we’re here,’ Reeth said, ‘the band’s got to shape up.’

‘We can always be better, I suppose.’

‘They’re relying on me. I don’t want any more…’

She was staring hard at him. ‘Guilt?’

‘Is that so strange a thought?’

‘No… no, it’s not.’ Her expression was distant and grave, and didn’t seem to welcome inquiry.

He steered clear. ‘You’re right, we can be better. I want to keep down the chance of losses.’

‘At least we’ve got a good crew.’ She’d broken out of her reverie. ‘They’re keen, fit, quick to learn -’

‘They’ll have to be. When Karr hinted that today’s robbery was a dry run for other missions, you can bet he started us on something basic. Whatever’s coming is going to be a lot harder. We’ve got to be ready for that.’

‘Don’t worry,’ she told him, ‘you’ll have your control.’

The stars couldn’t be seen from the centre of the city. There was too much competition from the glare of magic.

On the balcony of an unpretentious mansion in a moderately affluent quarter, another couple sat and took in the view. She revelled in the soft, warm night air. He poured honeyed wine from a carafe. They touched their cups together in a silent toast.

Valdarr glittered and throbbed, a pageant of illusion that could have been for their sole benefit. Every so often a gush of sparks flared briefly in the streets below, marking a glamour nativity. Or an ebbing spectre drifted by, its magical charge used up. The rhythm of supernatural creation, mutation and destruction was incessant.

Yet for Tanalvah Lahn this place was a haven.

‘I didn’t realise,’ she said, ‘that I’d never really felt safe before.’

‘It’s good to hear you say that,’ Kinsel replied. ‘Oh. I don’t mean good that you -’