The sling-rope dangled the length of the sail some twenty feet to Tab's right. If she could somehow angle the dagger so that she veered that way as she fell, she might just be able to reach it before running out of sail.

Clutching the dagger with both hands Tab turned the blade to the right. Immediately the new direction of the ‘cut’ caused her to move towards the sling-rope. Looking down, she moaned in fear.

If only she had spotted the sling-rope when she had been higher up, she might have made it… Arms and legs burning from the friction with the canvas, she turned the knife blade further. She skewed too far to the right. The knife buckled and caught. Clutching it tightly she angled it downward again.

She had twenty feet of canvas left, then a fall of some two hundred feet. She looked across at the sling-rope – so near and yet too far…

Except… somehow… she was moving towards the sling-rope.

No, she wasn't. It was moving towards her!

Amelia! She must be levitating it.

Tab reached out and just as the sail ran out and she dropped, her good hand closed tightly on the knotted rope.

Three distant voices cheered from the rigging.

Tab's legs were shaking when she climbed down to the deck to join the others.

‘That was amazing,’ said Philmon.

Fontagu bit his lip, looking thoroughly abashed. ‘I thought you were going to… That you would… That you couldn't possibly -’ He grinned lamely.

‘I'm so sorry!’ Amelia gushed. ‘If I hadn't been so childish -’

Tab said, ‘I would have died just then if you hadn't levitated that rope, Amelia.’

Amelia stared at her. ‘What rope?’

‘The sling-rope – you made it slide towards me so I could grab it.’

Amelia shook her head. ‘It wasn't me. I couldn't even see you.’

Tab appeared stunned. ‘Then who?’

Suddenly Philmon's eyes widened. He was gazing over Tab's shoulder at something behind her. The hairs on the back of Tab's neck stood up.

She whirled, visions of Tolrushian assassins in her mind. But what she saw made her gasp. ‘Torby!’

The beaten and battered boy was standing not twenty feet from her. She hurled herself at him and threw her arms about his shoulders, hugging him tightly. He grinned guardedly.

‘However did you -?’ Tab began. She had a million questions and they all came bursting out of her. The others crowded round.

Finally Amelia called for quiet. ‘Torby,’ she said. ‘How did you get here?’

Torby glanced fearfully back to where Tolrush might be lurking.

‘Not exactly the talkative type, is he?’ said Philmon. Amelia hushed him.

‘Did you fly somehow?’ asked Tab.

Torby looked pensive, as though pondering the question. Then in a very small voice, he said, ‘I sewed.’

Tab frowned and looked to the others. ‘Sowed? Sewed? What does he mean?’ ‘There!’ said Torby.

They all glanced up. Fontagu wailed. Overhead, Tolrush – now visible – looked as if it was dropping down on top of them. Bells tolled, and people ran from their houses and swarmed the decks. The rigging came alive with sailors.

Chunks of rock, which were always falling from the sides of the floating cities, crashed down onto Quentaris. Some landed in the harbour, sending up great spouts of water.

‘We're done for!’ cried Fontagu. He hurriedly reached into his pocket and thrust the icefire gem into Tab's hands. ‘For safekeeping,’ he explained. ‘In case anything happens to me.’

Tab hesitantly pocketed the gem, wondering at Fontagu's sudden thoughtfulness.

‘This is very bad,’ said Amelia. ‘It will take time to get up to speed… ’

‘Can I help?’ said Torby. Everyone turned and looked at him. Fontagu snorted and even Philmon shook his head.

But Tab had an odd feeling. ‘Yes… yes, help us, Torby.’

Amelia and Philmon exchanged looks.

‘I know what you're thinking,’ Torby said quietly. ‘I was drained beneath the ground, but now I'm free. It will take time for me to build… ’ He stopped, as though guilty of something. With some exertion he then raised his arms and wiggled his fingers. A light wind picked up about him.

Philmon said, ‘I'd better report to my battle station. They're going to need all hands before -’ He stopped suddenly.

‘Now will you look at that?’ he said, frowning in wonderment. High above them, Tolrush was in difficulty. A fierce nor’-nor’-easterly wind had sprung up from nowhere and was pushing her rapidly away from Quentaris. At the same time a sou’-westerly wind was filling Quentaris’ sails and the fog was thickening. Within moments, Tolrush had veered off and was dwindling astern. Then the fog closed in and obscured most of the enemy city.

Everyone turned and stared at the wind-swept Torby who slowly lowered his arms. He looked for a moment as though he had borne the brunt of the inclement weather.

‘I don't believe it,’ said Amelia.

‘He's some kind of magical genius,’ said Philmon.

Tab said, ‘You're not wrong.’ Suddenly Torby went cross-eyed and reeled. She caught him just as he was collapsing. ‘Help me!’ she cried.

Amelia and Philmon rushed to her aid. Standing well back Fontagu looked up at the beleaguered Tolrush, then at the full blown Quentaran sails. Then he looked down at Torby, a calculating look on his face.

Tab let the curtain drop and sighed. Torby was sleeping soundly, after a night of sudden fever and chills. The two of them were back in Tab's old lodging house.

She joined Philmon and Amelia in the sitting room. All three had long, gloomy faces.

And they weren't the only ones. Everyone had gone crazy lately. It wasn't surprising. A week of fog and rain, no sun, no fresh air, and the constant threat of attack from Tolrush were enough to drive anyone to desperation. To make matters worse, Tab had been hauled before the Grand Council and chastised. Even the return of the icefire – and enough energy to power Quentaris for a year – did not make up for her theft of the gem in the first place or her subsequent hiding of it. It had taken all of Verris’ authority to keep her from being thrown in the brig, and even so she was under a kind of house arrest. She had also had to fudge the truth to keep Fontagu's name out of the proceedings. She hated to think what would happen if the magicians verified what they had suspected from the beginning: that their gem had been used to ignite the Spell of Undoing.

And if all that wasn't bad enough, she was blamed – along with Amelia and Philmon – for bringing the wrath of Tolrush down upon them. Luckily, it was quietly bandied about that Tab had somehow concocted the fog and the strange wind that were keeping them out of Tolrush's claws.

‘I still can't believe that we brought the icefire back home yet we're still the villains in all of this,’ said Philmon gloomily one evening. He had suffered the least of the three. Captain Bellgard did not share the magicians’ feeling that the youths had behaved badly. Amelia, however, had been severely reprimanded, while Tab had been expelled from the Magicians’ Guild altogether.

‘I went to the market today,’ said Tab, ‘and a merchant spat at me.’

Amelia nodded. ‘This is all Florian's doing. He's been spreading evil rumours ever since you disappeared. What's he got against you, anyway?’

Tab sat on her bed and rested her chin on her hands. ‘He hates me.’ She didn't mention how she had dumped a basket of fish guts on his head, and in public. ‘And he's too powerful to expose for the traitor he is without real evidence. Even with proof the Archon would hush it all up and Florian's accusers would “disappear”. I'm so sorry I got you into all this,’ she added, miserably.

‘We got ourselves into it,’ said Philmon. ‘And anyway, I don't see how Quentaris’ plight is our fault.’

‘Hey, something's happening,’ said Amelia.

Tab joined her at the window. Outside, pale towers and buildings loomed out of the fog.