'Kanseen! Macsen bellowed. He shoved his way through th silent constables to reach her side. His arms went round her.

'All right, she gasped. 'I'm all right. Lady! I'll never complain about these drosilk waistcoats again. She was rubbing her chest where the bullet had struck. Macsen let out a sob of relief, and kissed her.

A furious Edeard strode out into the empty zone between the constables and the rioters. The nearest members of the mob shuffled backwards.

'Break this up! Edeard roared. 'Go back to your homes. This is over.

For a moment the silence held. Then someone unseen yelled, 'Fuck the Waterwalker.

Two more pistol shots rang out. Edeard was ready for them. The bullets hung in the air a couple of feet in front of him. He was going to make a show of examining them and sneering contemptuously. Slap it into the rioters that he was invincible, that their moment of rebellion was over. But it was a signal for a renewed round of jeering.

'One of mine fired the shots, Argian longtalked directed to Edeard.

Edeard's gaze flicked up to the roof of the building at the start of Zulmal Street. Argian was there, crouched down amid the profusion of flowering vines. 'Who? Where? Edeard asked.

'Junlie. He's already retreating.

The hail of missiles was starting again.

'All right, Edeard snarled at the rioters. 'I warned you.

Those in the front rank faltered, their taunts and abuse fading as they saw his determination.

Edeard's cloak billowed wide, freeing his arms. He brought them up in a wide curving motion, his eyes closed. Concentrating hard. He'd never really exerted his full telekinetic strength before, not like this. Not aggressively. Behind him, the surface of Mid Pool shivered. Twin plumes of water exploded high into the air. Their crests warped round to streak over the concourse, merging directly above Edeard. The constables underneath the giant airborne streams gasped, crouching down fearfully.

Edeard grinned mercilessly. He flung the water directly at the rioters as a single wavefront. It hit the ground in front of Zulmal Street, throwing up a huge cloud of spume. The main bulk of water surged onwards into the street, knocking everybody off their feet. Third hands formed desperate body shields, warding the thundering foam away from mouths and noses. Edeard kept it coming, standing immobile as the vast torrent churned above him. Captured fil-rats squawked in terror as they were propelled overhead within the unnatural flood. The leading wave rushed fifty yards down the street — seventy — a hundred. Its force and size reduced gradually as smaller streams poured away down the side alleys.

The surface of Mid Pool sank down drastically as Edeard continued to siphon water out. Water along the connecting canals began to dip and race in to fill the depression.

Edeard took a deep calming breath, and slowly lowered his arms. Above him, the final swell of water splattered down into the street.

There was no more rioting. Water churned away down alleys and drains. Edeard looked at the hundreds of soaking bodies left clinging to the buildings and each other, flopping about like beached fish. A multitude of coughing and harsh gasps echoed along the walls of dripping vines. Sunlight shining through the placid stripes of alto-cumulus created a strangely beautiful sheen across the glistening surfaces.

'I told you, Edeard announced impassively. 'Go home.

Constables moved down Zulmal Street, helping people to their feet, making sure they were all right. Broken limbs were a common injury. Over two dozen were carried to the concourse where doctors had been summoned. Two arrests were made when they found a couple of the people on Edeard's Hundred list. Other than that there were no recriminations. The rioters slunk away, shivering in their sodden clothes. Mislore Avenue was equally quiet.

'What in the Lady's name is going on? Chief Constable Walsfol demanded with a directed longtalk.

Soft and precise though the telepathy was, Edeard could sense the man's anger and fear. 'I had to do something, sir. The rioters were destroying the whole street.

'You might have calmed your area, but the rest of Sampalok is falling into Ladydamned anarchy.

'I know, Edeard replied miserably. His farsight could see the mobs rampaging through the streets and alleys across the rest of Sampalok. Smoke was churning into the morning air, muting the bright sunlight across the district. Instead of giving them pause for thought, his actions had actually acted like some kind of spur to the mobs. 'I'll go over to Galsard Street next, it's closest. Then I'll move on to—

'You will do no such thing, Walsfol said. 'We're worried your actions are just inflaming the whole situation. You stand down, Waterwalker, I want you back in Jeavons by midday. I am ordering all constables to fall back behind the bridges.

'But people are being hurt, Edeard protested.

'Perhaps you should have thought about that before you began this action. You assured me that the disturbance would be minimal. I don't know who it was that forced the gang leaders into Sampalok, but all that's done is magnified this whole Lady-damned disaster.

It would have been worse. Every district would be burning like this by now. Probably. Dear Lady, what have I done?

'Yes sir.

'The Mayor feels more direct action will be required to support the citizens currently under threat.

'What sort of action?

'We're not sure. The Upper Council has been in emergency session for the last twenty minutes, nothing has been decided.

Edeard gazed round the concourse. A wide flow of shallow water was rippling back out of Zulmal Street to gurgle over the rim into Mid Pool. A couple of doctors had responded to the calls of the sergeants, and were moving along the row of injured. Lady's Novices in their blue and white robes were scurrying round, assisting the doctors and comforting the dazed patients.

A shot rang out. Every constable flinched, automatically looking towards Zulmal Street. Edeard's farsight was unconsciously aware of his squadmates — just as Chae had taught them so long ago. Boyd's thoughts vanished from perception.

Somewhere close by, Kanseen screamed.

Edeard's farsight flashed out to where Boyd had been an instant before; one of the shops along Zulmal Street. A mind in the front room glowed with unrepentant satisfaction. There was a lifeless body in there, but farsight couldn't help Edeard identify who it was. He could however pick out the kind of kit every constable wore. 'Lady, no, he whispered.

Then he was running across the concourse and into Zulmal Street. It was a baker's shop, of course. The deluge of water had poured in through the broken door, creating havoc inside. Shelving and counters had flipped over as the powerful current raced through into the rear. It struck the ovens in the kitchens, releasing dangerous clouds of steam as it quenched their fires. One of the heavy cabinets in the front had toppled on to a teenage lad, pinning him to the ground. That was how Boyd found him, whimpering in agony, coughing water, blood seeping into his clothes from where broken hip bones had punctured his skin. A son of the baker or a rioter, Boyd didn't care. The lad was suffering and needed help. Boyd helped. Using his third hand and a post of wood, he was crouched down beside the cabinet, levering it free.

When Edeard rushed in, Mirayse was still standing over Boyd's corpse, the pistol in her hand. Her clothes were splattered with blood, as well they might be. She'd put the pistol muzzle;in inch from the back of Boyd's head to shoot. The front of Boyd face had blown off, spewing gore across the cabinet and the pot lad underneath it, who was now weeping hysterically.

Mirayse giggled at the constables piling into the shop. "I got you, she said in a peculiar sing song voice. 'I got you. You killed my life. We're equal now.