She sent the rat hurrying back the way it had come, stopping directly above the key rail. Tab had to give the rat an extra push to do her will. It was hesitant and for good reason. The jump was risky and the rail narrow.

The rat half leapt and half slithered down the wall. Tab held her breath, but the rat was good at its job. It landed awkwardly, started to slip back, then dug in its claws and pulled itself to safety.

Inside the rat's mind, Tab directed it to grab the keys and slide them off the peg. This was the dangerous part. She didn't know how far away the guardroom was and the sound of the keys hitting the stone floor might bring someone. But as she overheard Verris say once, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

She urged the rat to push the keys off the peg with its snout. They hit the floor with a loud rattle. Tab waited, and she could feel both her own heart, and the rat's, beating hard. After what seemed an eternity, she relaxed. No one had come.

Tab had the rat leap to the floor and, very slowly, and as quietly as possible, drag the keys to her cell.›››There›› You're free to go

The rat scurried away. Tab reached through the bars and grabbed the keys. There were only three. The sodden clunk of tumblers told her when she had found the right one. Her heart leapt. With Torby held tight against her, they crept silently from the cell.

‘Torby,’ whispered Tab, ‘I need you to be as quiet as a mouse. Can you do that for me?’

Torby nodded, wide-eyed. She could tell he was scared but he was also excited. Good for him, she thought. They stole past the guardroom, hearing heavy, reassuring snores. Then they came to some steps. They climbed them, halting at a locked door. Tab fumbled for the key ring and mentally crossed her fingers.

But as she inserted the key, the door started to open. Someone was coming in.

In utter despair, she grabbed Torby and whirled to flee back down the stairs, but before she had even taken one step she heard a remarkable thing. Her name.

‘Tab!’

She looked back, and gaped. Philmon and Amelia stood in the doorway. It was almost too much. She felt herself sagging but hands were grabbing her, keeping her steady. She heard Torby whimper and instinctively put an arm around him.

Her head cleared. Philmon's grin was in her face. She threw her other arm around him and hugged him hard.

‘What in the name of all the odd gods are you two doing here?’

‘Oh, we were just in the neighbourhood and thought -’

Amelia elbowed Philmon in the ribs. ‘Shut up.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly, if he cracks one more joke, I swear I'll throttle him.’

‘Hey, that's not fair,’ said Philmon. ‘At least I'm not all doom and gloom.’

Tab looked from one to the other. ‘But -?’

Amelia quickly filled her in. Exhausted, she had gone to bed early, then wakened to find a small blinking seed-gem on Tab's bedside table. She had known at once what it was: an alarm, the kind that was only triggered if something hidden was stolen, or a locked door was opened. The city had been searched at Verris’ request. But no sign or clue of Tab had been found.

Then Florian had started spreading rumours. About how Tab had sold out Quentaris, how she had been working with Tolrush all along and that the first attack had been designed to make her look good so that she would win favour.

‘The seed-gem is designed to take you to the place or object being protected, and that's just what it did,’ said Amelia. ‘I should have thought of it before.’

‘Bit of a shock, though,’ said Philmon wryly, ‘to stumble on a bunch of Tolrushians, I can tell you!’

‘But how did you get here?’ asked Tab.

‘Flew,’ said Philmon.

‘I enchanted an old rowboat – levitated it, to be precise,’ said Amelia proudly. She looked at Torby. ‘I think we should get moving. But who's this?’

‘His name's Torby. They – tortured him. We have to get him to safety,’ said Tab.

Philmon and Amelia heard the appeal in her voice, and both nodded. They couldn't imagine even for themselves what it would be like to be trapped in a Tolrushian dungeon, let alone for a young child. Amelia put her palm to Torby's cheek. It was a measure of his newfound security with Tab that he didn't quite flinch. ‘We're going to get you both out of here, Torby, don't you worry,’ she said. ‘The rowboat's on a tower not far from here. Let's go.’

As they ran, darting from one shadow to another, Amelia filled Tab in on the rest of the story. They had followed the Tolrushians, who already had the gem – Amelia and Philmon had seen them later admiring it – to their flying ship. From what they could overhear, the group had been led by a Quentaran spy or traitor, someone who knew his way around, and who kept mentioning his ‘prodigious reward’.

Tab started at the words. They reminded her of someone, but just then she couldn't think who.

Amelia continued. ‘We didn't know exactly what was going on, but it was pretty clear that if you were still alive, then you had to be on Tolrush, and this bunch knew where. So I enchanted the boat and we tracked them. The rest you pretty much know.’

‘You came here on your own?’ Tab gasped.

Philmon shrugged. ‘We couldn't alert the City Watch. If they knew Tolrush was so close they'd have alerted the Navigators’ Guild and they'd have fled faster than you could say “drop dead”.’

Tab was amazed, and humbled. It must have taken a lot of nerve for both of them to come and rescue her. This was probably the first time in her life that she knew that other people actually cared about her. She felt an odd stinging in the back of her eyes.

‘Nearly there,’ said Philmon as they reached an arched doorway. They had been following an enclosed passageway between high walls. Tolrush was a grim rat's warren of alleyways, tunnels and interconnected streets that had long ago been built over, forming even more tunnels.

‘Hold!’ growled a voice.

The children skidded to a stop in front of four armed guards. ‘What we got here? A scurrying rat pack, no less!’ one of them said. ‘And fell right into our trap, they did.’

‘Behind me,’ Amelia said.

‘The skinny girl and the boy alive,’ said the leader. ‘Kill the others.’

Amelia blew into her hands and something not quite invisible sparkled like a gust of vapour, smothering the nearest guard. He coughed and buckled over.

Philmon snatched up the fallen man's sword and waved it uncertainly. ‘Stay back,’ he threatened, his voice almost breaking.

‘Take them!’ snarled the leader.

A guard smashed down on Philmon's sword, jarring his arm. The sword clattered to the floor but Tab leapt forward and snatched it up, raising its point just as the guard advanced, almost skewering him. He leapt back just in time, bellowing a curse as he tripped over his fallen comrade and slammed backwards into the wall. There was a nasty crunch as his head connected, and he dropped.

Meanwhile Amelia's shaking hands wove a quick spell and the third guard's face went suddenly blank, as though he didn't know where he was.

But now the first guard who had fallen was getting up. The leader shouldered past him, cried ‘Enough!’ and swung his sword. It sliced through the air an inch above Philmon's ducking head. Amelia, drained from her use of magic, slumped against the wall. Tab tried to block the leader's way, brandishing Philmon's sword, but she knew she was useless at fencing.

Someone blocked the light from the doorway. Tab's heart sank. Reinforcements had arrived.

‘Drop your weapons else I'll slay the lot of you,’ warned the leader, who had also seen the shadow.

Then a chair came crashing down on his head and he fell like a sack of wheat. The first guard, his head clearing, took to his feet, and bolted.

The man in the doorway stepped forward.

‘Fontagu?’ exclaimed Tab. She couldn't believe her eyes. ‘Wha – how -?’