‘I will never turn away from you, my true friends,’ Slvasta said. He squeezed them all hard. ‘Together we have the courage we need. Now, let us liberate this world.’

3

The Hevlin’s orangery stretched along one side of the hotel’s neat little central courtyard, where fountains played and fig trees formed a tall canopy to ward off the midday sun. The table where Kysandra sat was right next to the glass, with a gentle breeze drifting down from the open windows above. A snow-white tablecloth was laid out with shining silver cutlery, and the cut-crystal goblets sparkled in the dappled sunlight. It was Madeline who served the fish starter – smoked macod wrapped in kall leaves, and drizzled with a lime sauce.

‘Enjoy,’ Madeline said in a very knowing tone.

‘Thank you,’ Kysandra replied levelly.

‘Would you like more wine?’

‘Not for me.’ She looked over the table at her companion.

Deavid smiled happily. ‘No, thanks.’

‘Madam.’ Madeline gave a small bow and left.

Kysandra hoped Deavid hadn’t noticed how smug Madeline had been. Every time that happened, Kysandra couldn’t help wondering if Nigel’s domination technique was slipping. After all, I have finished up spending a lot of time on my back in the Hevlin’s bedrooms recently – just not quite the way she and Ma intended. The thought made her grin across the table at Deavid’s handsome face. His answering smile was worshipful. They’d met five months ago. He was twenty-two, the youngest son in a family who owned a respectably sized carpentry business in Jaxtowe, fifty kilometres to the south. With Adeone’s prosperity rising dramatically over the last two years, he was one of many salesmen arriving in town to seek fresh markets. He played football for the Jaxtowe team, which kept him in very good shape, and when she ran her fingers all over him his ebony skin was gorgeously smooth to the touch. Best of all, he made her laugh. His cheery, mildly disrespectful attitude was a rarity among the young men she got to meet, who were all so desperately serious would-be businessmen or entrepreneurs. All on their way up – or believing they were.

Deavid had convinced his father they needed to open an office in town, with himself as manager. And Kysandra suddenly found herself with a lot of reasons to be in Adeone, supervising the flow of goods which the industry inside the farm’s compound consumed, as well as overseeing activities among the radical groups Nigel and the ANAdroids had established.

That was during the morning. Afternoons were spent with Deavid in the Hevlin’s garden suite, exploring new ways the huge four-poster bed could be used to accommodate their wanton gymnastics.

‘This is delicious,’ he said.

‘They catch macod in the freshwater lake upstream. It’s quite the local speciality.’

He held up a fork with a perfectly cooked pink sliver impaled on the tip. ‘Can you stay tonight?’ His tongue came out slowly and licked the piece of fish off the fork.

‘I could be persuaded. I have some meetings tomorrow afternoon which I can reschedule for the morning.’

‘Do you really need an excuse?’

‘No. I’m just being practical.’

‘Of course, you wouldn’t need to be practical or have excuses if I moved out to the farm. We could spend every night together then.’

She looked at his eager expression and felt her own buoyant mood start to deflate. ‘Deavid . . .’

‘I know: your guardian doesn’t approve. Strange, considering he doesn’t seem to mind you spending as much time as you want with me in town.’

‘It’s not that.’

‘I’d really like to visit. All the wagon drivers who go out there talk about how it’s practically a town in itself.’

‘We have a few extra barns for engineering, that’s all. Nigel’s hobby is making things he hopes to sell one day, and we maintain the farm’s traction engines ourselves.’

‘Really? They say you have hundreds of mods working on the farm. And there’s like a train of goods carts that carry stuff out there every day. Weird loads, too, crates of minerals from all over. Barrels full of Giu knows what.’

Kysandra put her knife and fork down. ‘Foodstuff for the neuts, and metals for smelting. That kind of thing.’

‘Look, I’m not complaining. I think it’s wonderful what Nigel has done, all the trade and industry he’s brought to this town. The whole region benefits. But it’s as if there’s a whole part of you that I’m shut out from.’

She almost groaned in dismay. No matter how many times she said at the beginning: this is just fun, I don’t want anything serious right now, and no matter that they always instantly agreed to those terms, it always wound up with them getting more demanding and possessive. ‘Isn’t what we have good enough?’

‘Oh, Giu, yes. I’m sorry, Kysandra. I just—’

Don’t say it. Don’t!

Even with her shell rock hard and revealing no hint of emotion, he must have sensed what a mess he was making of this.

‘I just want to see more of you,’ he finished lamely.

‘I don’t think there’s much you haven’t seen.’

He smiled, but she could see it was forced. And now the mood had gone completely. Neither of them seemed to know what to say. She considered talking about the lingerie that had arrived from Varlan, which she’d been planning on wearing for him that afternoon. That always made men happy. But why should I always have to rescue the moment, why not him? That was the trouble with being infected with the attitudes and outlook possessed by Commonwealth citizens; it was hard to find anyone on Bienvenido who could meet those expectations. Perhaps we could talk about the election, how Democratic Unity won a seat on the National Council. Another glance at Deavid revealed how pointless that would be. Locals neither knew nor cared about politics in the capital. Why should they? It didn’t affect them. So they believed.

Just how is he going to react to salvation? How are any of them going to cope? I can barely comprehend what it will mean, and I’ve been thinking about it for years.

They were finishing the fish course in mildly awkward silence when Russell ’pathed her privately. ‘Gorlar’s riding the message cart into town. Riding hard.’

Kysandra stopped eating straight away. The message cart wasn’t due in until tomorrow. Something important must have happened for a message to be sent outside the schedule. Great Giu, Coulan’s people can’t have been blown, can they? Slvasta won his seat, dammit. Everything was going perfectly. ‘I have to go,’ she told Deavid.

‘No! Please, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked to be with you at the farm, it was stupid.’

She stood up. ‘This is nothing to do with that. My mother’s been a pain, and I have to go and sort it out. Again.’

‘Oh.’ He reddened. ‘Of course.’

‘I’ll see you tonight,’ she promised.

His smile was almost nervous. There was clearly a lot he wanted to say, but held his tongue. ‘Tonight, then.’

Kysandra was proud of the way she kept her shell solid. Even if the message was nothing and they spent the night together, everything was about to change. Within a month, they would have the fearsome weapons from the palace. Nigel would launch Skylady and attack the Void’s structure. She still considered the whole mission crazy dangerous, despite his ability to reset the Void. But – oh, oh – if he was right, if he really did know everything, the Void would be no more, and Bienvenido would be free. But it all depended on events in Varlan playing out smoothly, or at least in their favour for a few days.

She waited with Russell outside the livery on the edge of town. It had a good position at the end of the newly upgraded river road which was lined with tall featherpalms. Deavid’s company had been given the contract for the frame of the livery’s latest stable – which wasn’t the quality she’d been led to expect, but she never challenged it. It’s only for a couple more months.