I'm being forced out, she thought bitterly. I haven't even said goodbye to all the people I love. Not that there are many of them, but I should be allowed that. Even though she was more confident about using the gaiafield, she still didn't dare access the unisphere. That would be the first thing she would have to fix when she reached whatever world she was heading for. Araminta wanted to know who the hell Oscar Monroe was, and why he would help her. If he was telling the truth about working for ANA, and ANA wanted her to be free, there might be hope yet.

It was definitely getting lighter, even though Araminta knew it was still a couple of hours before dawn. She didn't recognize most of the trees she was walking through now, either, the old familiar dapol trees were becoming few and far between. The newcomers were taller and thinner, with slimmer branches and silver-green leaves. Strange lavender star-flowers peeped up through the wiry yellow-tinged grass as the ground started to tip down. There was no sight of the force field through the upper branches of the new trees. And the gaiafield was fading out, allowing her tense thoughts to expand, calming the deep worry contaminating her body. Somewhere the Silfen Motherholm smiled in compassion for her.

The trees were thinning out, and Araminta shivered in the cold air gusting past the white and green striped trunks, rubbing her hands along her arms and pulling up the front of her fleece. Then she walked out of the treeline and stopped dead.

'Oh Great Ozzie, she murmured in astonished delight. She was halfway up a steep valley wall. The grassy mountainside beneath her feet swept down towards a broad meandering river. On the other side, maybe twenty or thirty miles away, the opposite side of the valley climbed upwards, its summits coated in thick fields of snow. Above that—Araminta shielded her eyes from the orange sun peeping over the jagged peaks. A quartet of tiny moons were racing across the sky, twisting round each other as they went. She was sure one of them must have been made from blue crystal, glints of sunlight flashed off its facets as it spun round and round.

Viotia didn't have moons like that. In fact she'd never heard of anywhere that did.

Somewhere beyond the river, lurking among the spinnies and tracts of woodland, Araminta could sense the beginnings of another path. She set off down the mountain, laughing joyfully at her liberation.

The summer sun rose through a clear sky to illuminate one very excited city. It was election day in Makkathran. At last, after all the turmoil, the Sampalok riots and the banishment, followed by a fortnight of increasingly bitter campaigning by both mayoral candidates, and equally lively mud-slinging by the district Representatives: this was it. The day everyone got to make their opinion known on events and promises.

Edeard jogged over the Brotherhood Canal bridge and into Jeavons as the dawntime's dew began to evaporate off the grass. It produced a wonderfully fresh scent in the air, triggering a completely unjustified sense of optimism as he reached the streets of Jeavons. Unjustified because the city's mood was impossible to determine. So much had happened. So much to take in. So many rumours and whispers from the candidates and their allies to believe or ignore. Nobody knew what the result was going to be.

One thing was for certain, a lot of people were going to vote. As he ran down Golfice Street, Edeard could sense whole families rising early for breakfast. Election day was always a holiday. Businesses that were normally preparing to open as he ran past were shut for the day, market squares were devoid of stalls.

A holiday, then, but not a carnival. There was too much tension for that. Not helped by the fifty banished who'd made camp in the trees beyond North Gate and refused to budge.

Relatives and friends and the politically motivated kept taking food out to them and making public collections. Keeping the cause alive and visible.

Edeard arrived back at the tenement and hurried up the stairs to his maisonette. Dinlay was waiting on the walkway outside. They grinned at each other and went in. Breakfasts together had become something of a ritual since the day in Sampalok.

'Moment of truth then, Dinlay said as Edeard stripped off and scurried into the shower.

'Yes, Edeard called out above the spray of water.

'I've never known so many people say they're coming out to vote. I suppose that's a victory in its own way.

'What do you mean?

Dinlay had sat himself at the small table where one of the ge-chimps was serving him with fruit and cereal. The second genistar was tending the kettle on the iron stove. 'You've finally got people stirred up about the city's leadership. Before, it never really made any difference which candidate you voted for. Nothing was different afterwards.

Edeard stepped out and started rubbing himself dry with a towel. 'That's down to Finitan rather than me.

Dinlay laughed. 'I'm not sure I believe the false modesty routine any more.

'Okay, if I'm that confident about myself, how come I'm not standing?

'Not the right time, Dinlay said shrewdly. 'For all you achieved, you're still too young. Even Captain is pushing it.

'Ha! Edeard grunted. Walsfol hadn't objected to Ronark's astute manoeuvring; indeed he'd been keen to accept the old captain in his own office at the Courts of Justice. Crucially, Owain had mounted no challenge to Edeard's promotion as he took charge of the Jeavons constable station. Coming into direct conflict with the Waterwalker while the city's mood was unknown was not something the wily Mayor would allow to happen. They'd maintained a scrupulously courteous attitude to each other ever since the Sampalok riots. Sometimes it was all

Edeard could do not to snigger at how polite they were whenever they met. There were strong elements of farce to the encounters.

Edeard flicked his friend's epaulettes playfully. 'Thank you, Corporal.

'That's different, Dinlay said, straightening the epaulettes. 'These were well deserved and sorely earned.

The ge-chimp brought two large cups of tea over to the table. Edeard picked his up, and gave Dinlay a mildly concerned look. 'Er… you didn't want to be Master of Sampalok, did you?

'By the Lady! Dinlay was genuinely shocked. 'No, Edeard. I'm a constable. And that means so much more today, all thanks to you. I'm going to be Chief Constable to your Mayor.

'Okay. I was sort of improvising back there.

'I know. But it was a clever choice. He already knows far more about Grand Family politics than I ever will.

'The Grand Council needs to worry about her, not him, Edeard said.

'And that's a fact.

They grinned again, then finished their light meal in companionable silence. The ge-chimps cleared the table, then started picking up Edeard's discarded jogging clothes, putting them in the laundry basket. Dinlay paused as he was pulling on his jacket, noticing something odd. His third hand swiped one of Edeard's odd running shoes. 'I've never seen anything like this before. Did they have them in your village?

'No, Edeard said as he buttoned up his own jacket. 'Something I dreamt up. They're very comfortable to run in.

Dinlay shrugged and gave the shoe back to the ge-chimp.

They walked out of the tenement together and headed for the district's public hall. Edeard's farsight swept through the scene ahead. The hall stood by itself in the middle of a square, a strange onion-shaped building standing on twenty fat pillars. Big folding wooden doors had been fixed between them, sealing off the large central auditorium from the elements. The curving internal wall that overlooked the chamber was ribbed by eight narrow galleries that provided access to the hundreds of small unlit cubicles wrapped around the whole structure like a honeycomb. For once, the galleries didn't have Makkathran's bad stairs between them, instead the hall boasted steep ramps. Nobody ever really used the galleries or their cubicles.