She looked at Lightning, who was naked from the waist up with disheveled hair; me in a sheet skirt and needle scars; and Wrenn, caked in gore with semitransparent shorts. “Not as you are.”

I flew slowly to the Amarot, taking no pleasure in seeing the citizens staring up. I grieved for Danio; of course I’d only known her for two days but she was the Trisian I had spoken to most, and with untold depths of wit and humanity she had shown the greatest interest in the Fourlands.

I stood alone in front of the Senate and explained everything. I offered our services to catch the Insect but they interrupted me with outraged cries. They seemed to surmise that the Insect was a ploy for us to stay longer at Capharnaum. The Senate agreed that Vendace should accompany me to the Stormy Petrel, to announce their decision to all us travelers at once. I waited as he gathered an escort of townsmen on the mosaic, but as we walked down the boulevard more men joined us from the houses, almost spontaneously, following closely without a word. They were armed with harpoons, their knives in their belts; one or two carried the halberds we had sold them. They were quiet, giving me space, but still I knew they were watching my every move. It was nerve-racking. I acted as amicably as possible, trying to alleviate the atmosphere. When we passed the piazza I saw the man in the tunic working in his restaurant. I smiled openly but he gave me a cold look and pulled the shutters closed.

I reached Petrel with relief, but Mist, after some negotiation, invited all Vendace’s supporters aboard. The caravel’s size daunted them, but twenty or so filed up to the main deck, where Mist and I convinced Senator Vendace to leave them and enter her office alone.

The long shade of the mountain had fallen over the harbor, and Mist’s cabin was so dark she had lit candles. The smell of tallow combined with brass polish, tar and black coffee made Vendace even more uneasy. He surveyed the Sailor’s gloomy office: the waxed paneling fixed between tough, roughly adze-marked timbers, the door with long flamboyant hinges across it, and the cassone in which Ata kept her clothes. The table bore a cafetière and a plate of yesterday’s bread rolls. Its turned legs were bolted to the floor. In the corner was a basket full of Trisian bric-a-brac and wine cups. This ornate room was at odds with the rest of the ship and the sound of uneasy crewmen scrubbing bloodied footprints off the foredeck.

Vendace did not sit down until I begged, and then only reluctantly. Mist pushed a lidded glass of coffee toward him but he did not give it so much as a glance. He watched his companions waiting on the main deck through the small panes surrounding the door. He announced, “The Senate has voted. Tris will reject all contact with the Fourlands’ Empire. We’ve heeded the advice of the constitution of Capharnaum. Everyone voted that you must leave, with the exception of well-loved Professor Danio, who wanted to learn more. We agreed this morning even before your messenger informed us of the tragedy. We do not want you here. The slaughter of Capharnaum citizens, including her, simply reinforced their decision. We know that your boats are restocked. Take them home immediately and never come back.”

I translated for the others. I was leaning against the wall at the back of the cabin, one knee bent and the boot sole against the wood, head bowed, listening. I let them speak directly to each other, facilitating their conversation without interrupting it, whatever words were said. I took no side, simply letting my translation flow from the shadow, echoing their words and rejoinders in the correct languages: Awian to Trisian, Trisian to Low Awian.

Wrenn said, “But Tris is part of the Empire too!”

“No, we are not. One man should not rule five lands. The Senate was shocked to find that one man has so much power. You have already tainted Capharnaum.”

Mist said, “Senator, let us-”

Vendace pointed at her. “On the occasion of your arrival last year, the Senate discussed the likelihood of more visits from your island. We gave you the benefit of the doubt but now we accept that we were wrong and the stories were correct. Although I personally have no idea what to do about the Insect, the Senate is making plans.”

The black moniliform antenna lay on Mist’s desk beside her cafetière. Vendace pushed it around with his finger as he spoke. “You say there are thousands of Insects?”

I said, “Hundreds of thousands infest the north of our continent. We’re sorry we lost this one. The tunnel was empty when I returned with bowmen and-um-harpooners.”

Vendace said, “Jant, you can actually fly, and you can run…The merchants reported the speed you were flying!”

“I’m the fastest thing in the world,” I said. “That’s the only evidence I can give to prove that we’re immortal.”

Vendace sighed. “Some of the Senate believe you, but it makes no difference to us. Tris should be left alone by mortals and immortals alike. If you ask me, being able to fly is wonderful pleasure enough without heaping accolade and immortality on you as well.” He toyed with the antenna, asked plaintively, “Why did you set an Insect on us?”

Mist said, “We didn’t. It was an accident and we’re profoundly sorry. Please accept our apologies; mishaps like this will never happen again. The Insect escaped; we should have taken more care.”

“We’ll hunt it down,” Lightning said solidly. His face had a bleak impassive expression. He stood by the door, occasionally checking Vendace’s entourage. “We’re good at that; it’s what we do. I will meet any proposal of compensation. At least allow us to give you advice and recompense for your people.”

“I’ll go after it,” Wrenn volunteered.

“Yes, we know; be quiet,” I said.

Vendace said, “The librarians are looking for charts. They’ve told me that the sewer drains the forum and branches throughout Capharnaum for six hundred meters. So you brought a legendary maneater as an object of wonder, and loosed it into the system under our town. I am astounded.”

“I can’t translate this quickly,” I complained.

Mist asked the senator, “If Tris communicates with the Castle even once again, we need a spokesman; a governor, you see. Tell me what you want.”

“The Senate wants you to leave.”

“No. Tell me what you want.”

Vendace turned pale, controlling his anger. He spread his dry palms like a scarecrow playing an accordion and said, “I have learned some words of Awian: Goodbye.” He pushed his chair back and turned to leave.

Mist said, “No, wait!”

She touched the chair asking him to sit down, though he looked very uncomfortable. She sighed and refilled her coffee glass. Without looking at me, she said, “Comet, give us the benefit of your clever mind.”

“I say we stop insulting them. We should report to San and follow his instructions. I don’t know about this town, but we’re San’s servants. I think he should make the whole Senate the governor; they seem to take decisions with one voice.”

“Don’t interpret this,” Mist said. “Forget the stubborn, overbearing Senate. The common man of Capharnaum will want something. I don’t understand the desire that drives him.” She paced to the stern windows and looked out. “Every people I have met want more than they can supply for themselves. In fact, every single person’s greed is for more than he needs.”

“Not Rhydanne,” I said.

“Aye, a case to prove my point. Rhydanne are never drunk enough.” She nudged me as she paced back and nodded surreptitiously toward the casement. I peered through to see a crowd, mostly men, gathering on the quayside. Tridents glinted in their hands, with nets and the swords we had sold them. They stood in a passive silence that I found incredibly intimidating.

“Lightning, come here and take a look at this.”