Fontagu held on tight. ‘We can make a lovely home right here. We'll get some nice fresh straw. You can brush her twice a day.’

‘Let go of me!’ Tab struggled against him.

‘And oats for her to eat. Yum, yum. She'll learn to love it. You watch. So much nicer than some nasty old desert,’ he wheedled.

Tab wrenched her hand away and sprinted for the door. She threw it open and looked up. She could hear Tibbid's cries ringing through the streets, urging people to return to their homes and to brace themselves for the coming tumult as the city neared a vortex.

Tab thrust both hands out, steadying herself in the doorway, hardly daring to look, but unable to look away. The sky was undulating, swollen in ugly yellows and greys, like an old bruise. Clouds roiled and a series of deafening peals of thunder shook the ground. The sails bulged, deflated and bulged again.

The sky seemed to spin faster, but it was Quentaris that was spinning, twisting and plummeting through the vortex. The timber shuddered under her hands. The sky was a blur now. Her head whirled. Her stomach heaved and churned.

She cast her eyes skyward one more time, and this time Quentaris pitched. Tab saw through the spinning vortex to the calm skies they were leaving behind. The sky-traders’ city skimmed on the edge of the vortex like a stone skipping across the top of a pond.

Why aren't they following us in? she wondered.

Then, for just a few seconds, Tab saw her friend, Melprin, straight as an arrow, dive-bombing the city, wrenching sails and rigging in her huge talons, throwing them out into the open sky or deep into the mouth of the vortex. With a bellow of fury the dragon tore away one of the smaller masts and thrust it through one of the buildings like a javelin. The sky-traders’ city listed and Tab could see one of her propellers hanging askew.

They couldn't follow even if they wanted to. The dragon had cast them adrift.

Tab held her breath, waiting for Melprin to pull back, to turn, to follow Quentaris into the vortex, but she was in a frenzy of destruction. Tab gripped the doorframe tighter still, until her knuckles were white. She was awed by the power of the dragon, the grace of her fury.

Tab's guilt and regret washed over her. It was her fault the dragon had lost her egg. Melprin had saved her again and again. If they left her behind Tab could never make it up to her.

Captain Verris frowned as he strode along the parapet, swivelling his head this way and that, barking out commands. Various guards approached to deliver reports or send messages. High above them the skysailors scampered about the rigging, shouting orders to each other. Storm's City Watch jogged through the streets in formation, arms at the ready, rounding up the last of the sky-traders left in the city after the fracas.

Most Quentarans stayed in their homes, peeking through windows and out of doors, waiting for word that the coast was clear. Others had already emerged and now stood at the City Wall peering over the edge, trying to catch a glimpse of the new world below. Earlier, Tab herself had taken a brief glimpse at the mountain range spread untidily beneath them like a rumpled sack.

Tab ran beside Verris, struggling to keep up. She was puffing, and on the verge of tears. She had already tried talking to Storm, to Chief Navigator Stelka, even to Captain Bellgard, but nobody was listening. It had been hours since they had come out of the vortex. She had returned to Verris once more. Someone had to hear her sooner or later, and it seemed to Tab that Verris was her best bet.

‘We have to go back. Why won't you believe me? Tattoo has to return to her world. Now! Quickly! While we know the vortex is still there.’

It had crossed Tab's mind that the navigators might not be able to find the vortex again, that it would disappear like others had in the past, and then they would be stuck. Tattoo would be trapped here, and Melprin would be trapped there.

Chances were that the dragon would tire. The rage that fuelled her would fade away. The sky-traders would defeat her eventually. What would they do to her? Chain her up and keep her below decks? Starve her to keep her weak? Worse? Just the thought of it created a great big lump in Tab's throat, as if she had swallowed an apple whole.

Captain Verris stopped suddenly and turned on his heel. Tab ran into him. ‘Oof! Sorry,’ she mumbled, embarrassed.

He put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Tab, I'm busy right now. We have no idea where we are, or what threats may face us. Can't you see that we have to prepare the city? If we go back we will have to face the sky-traders again, and who knows? Maybe Tolrush will have caught up with us by then. Do you see? We can't go back. I know you are worried about your little pony, but everybody is working together for once. Everyone except you.’

‘My little pony!’ she spluttered. ‘Didn't you hear what I said? The sky-traders attacked Quentaris over “my little pony”.’

‘We don't know that for sure,’ Verris interrupted. ‘You said yourself they had been planning it from the beginning.’

‘But Fontagu…’ she began.

Verris waved his arm dismissively. ‘Yes, yes. You said. Fontagu's evil scheme to trade in the elixir of youth.’ He sighed. ‘When you get as old as I am you will find that a lot of people think they have found the key to eternal life, and even more people are foolish enough to pay them for it. Let me give you a little tip, my young friend.’ He leaned in closer to her. ‘Live well today.’

‘But it's true!’ she protested.

‘All right!’ He held both his hands up. ‘Go! Bring this pony of yours to me. Prove it!’

Tab let out her breath in a whoosh. ‘Thank you!’

She swung around and sprinted back the way she had come, back through the streets and alleys to the slaughterhouse.

When she arrived the door was ajar. Tab leaned against the outside wall catching her breath. Odd, she thought. Fontagu wouldn't risk anyone looking in. Something was wrong.

She peeked through the door. Fontagu lay flat on his back on the floor. His cloak had ridden up and Tab could see his long, scrawny legs. She crept inside warily, but couldn't see anyone else. The stable was empty. ‘Tattoo?’ she called out. She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, but all she heard were panicked birds and rats, and a few pets in surrounding houses. The equen queen was not nearby.

‘Fontagu?’ Tab leaned over, poking him in the chest experimentally with her toe.

Suddenly Fontagu awoke with a snort and Tab jumped back, letting out a little shriek.

‘Attacked,’ he mumbled. ‘Monster. A giant. Tall as two men. Must have had six axes, at least. A great club hanging from his belt. Foul breath.’

‘What happened to Tattoo?’ she asked.

Fontagu sat up slowly, feeling his skull, and looking at his fingers, as though he expected to see blood. He looked over at the empty stable and pursed his lips. ‘Stolen!’ Then he sighed. ‘Probably in a pie by now. Still, I am lucky that the beast spared my life.’

‘Which way did he go?’ Tab asked.

Fontagu stared at her. ‘Didn't you hear what I said? I was ambushed! He came up behind me, and whack! Down I went. Coward. I didn't see which way he went.’

‘You didn't see? I thought you said it was a giant beast with six axes,’ Tab said.

Fontagu put a hand on his chest. ‘I could have been murdered!’

Tab jumped up and jogged to the door.

‘Where are you going?’ Fontagu scrambled after her.

‘Back to the council,’ she called over her shoulder.

‘Don't leave me here! What if he comes back?’ He stood, brushing himself off. ‘I'm coming with you.’

‘I thought you were almost mortally wounded,’ Tab said, looking him up and down.

‘The equen must have healed me before she left,’ he explained as the two hurried through the streets towards the Archon's Palace.