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.