Close by there was a bird. It was frozen too, but at least it had its eyes open. Tab was amazed how resigned the bird felt, lying on its back in the garden. I used to fly; now I can't.

Through the bird's eyes Tab could see the Loraskian soldiers stacking the bodies of the Quentarans one upon the other in great mounds in the Square. They looked dead but she knew they were just paralysed from the Loraskians’ screech, just like Tab was. New bug-eyed soldiers brought more bodies in wheelbarrows and in carts, borrowed from the markets. Tab was horrified. What were they planning to do with them now?

She could see herself, partially, from the bird's eyes – under the shoulder of a child that had been placed above her. Tab was grateful to be near the top of one of the mounds. She spied Amelia lower in the stack and she tried to call out, but all she could manage was a wheeze.

Between the mounds of people were piles of mood stones, taken from the pockets of the Quentarans before they were placed onto the heaps. Now the stones were a cool aquamarine colour. Two or three Loraskians seemed to be assigned to counting each pile and packing the stones into special caskets, which other moth-winged soldiers carried away.

The closer Tab watched, the more encouraged she was by the care the Loraskian soldiers seemed to take in placing people on the heaps. They didn't just throw them on in any order. They seemed to be stacked from largest to smallest, and there was a limit in the height of the piles. It gave her hope that her condition was temporary. With any luck, once the Loraskians had their mood stones back they would leave the Quentarans relatively unharmed.

She watched through the bird's eyes for a time, but after a while the methodical work of the Loraskians became repetitious, even boring, to Tab. She slipped back into the darkness of her own mind and slept.

Later, Tab melded with the bird again. She stayed in the back of its mind – not controlling, just watching. It blinked and twitched. It shook its head, flipped over, bounced a few steps and flew away. Tab would have smiled, if she could.

The bird flittered through the city. The Loraskian soldiers with their cases of gems followed a crooked path in single file, like ants, towards the City Wall, where they ran up a gangplank, jumped, and then flew out across the expanse between the two cities, their grey moth-wings a blur.

The bird was reluctant to follow, but Tab pushed it gently towards the Loraskians’ sky-city. She looked out for the sky-traders’ city, but it was gone. Tab guessed they had taken advantage of the Loraskian attack on Quentaris to slip through the vortex.

The soldiers landed on their sky-city, and then marched purposefully to the centre. Here there was a great spire, which turned slowly. It was peppered with thousands of holes, like a beehive, or wasps’ nest. The soldiers would slot their case of gems into a vacant cell, collect a new, empty case and then turn back to Quentaris to have it refilled.

Tab released the bird, and then very cautiously she reached out for one of the Loraskians flying back to Quentaris. She wasn't able to slip inside its mind, but she did get a sense of its mood. She felt honour, duty and purpose, and something else, tenderness and loyalty to its comrades.

They're not horrible, she thought. They're economical. They didn't see stacking bodies as macabre, it just seemed to them the most efficient way of storing paralysed persons, while they retrieved their gemstones.

Tab's Loraskian landed and followed its comrades back through the streets. Tab sensed something else too. The Loraskians thought the Quentarans were hideous, soggy, greasy creatures. Handling them was an act of great bravery. They thought of themselves as fine looking. They thought Loraskians were the best-looking creatures in all the worlds. They weren't horrible, just conceited, like Fontagu, Tab mused.

The Loraskian stopped. Somehow it had heard her. It thought she was poking fun and it was not pleased.

›››No››Not laughing at you. Amused, because underneath our skins we are all the same

The thoughts pulsated like colours in its mind. The Loraskian squeaked, which she took for a grunt of acknowledgement. It changed its course, stopping in front of another Loraskian. She got the feeling that this new one was further up in the hierarchy.

›››I have found one that communicates

The boss Loraskian squealed a reply that Tab was not able to decipher.

The Loraskian reached for Tab in its mind.

›››I'm here

›››We have more slots in cases than mood stones

She wasn't sure what it meant, or what she was supposed to do about it. It opened one of the cases and placed a claw-like hand into one of the slots where the mood stones were nestled.

›››We have more slots in cases than cold stars

In her mind Tab showed him a picture of the skytraders’ city. ›››You have all that they gave us

›››We have more slots…

›››In cases than cold stars››I know. What will you do to us if you don't recover all your cold stars?

›››Do to you?››We have more slots in cases than cold stars

Tab thought about her secret chamber. She expected the idea of giving away all those jewels to hurt, but it didn't. Too many friends were in danger. She sent the Loraskian the feeling of one of the gems she found in the secret chamber.

›››Will any cold stars do?

›››Direct me to where you are stored

Tab wasn't able to explain left and right, near or far so she used colours, red for when it was near and blue for when it was heading in the wrong direction. After a few mistakes the Loraskian hauled her body from the pile.

Before she knew it the Loraskian stabbed her in the neck with its proboscis. She felt an ice-cold fluid rush into her veins and gradually sensation came back to her limbs.

It was good to be back inside her own body, but she was weak, and her head ached. She felt like she had been run over by a team of oxen.

The Loraskian offered to carry her, and she was grateful, knowing how repulsive she was to it. It lifted her under her knees and shoulders. Up close it smelt pungent and alkaline, but she was careful not to wrinkle her nose.

She was about to tell the Loraskian which way to go, but then she remembered that they had a problem. The tunnel's entrance was one way, and the dungeon with access to the corridor, the one she had been in with the egg, was locked.

Who would know about finding treasure? she wondered. A pirate, of course! Verris!

‘We need to find someone,’ she mumbled. The Loraskian put her down and she wandered from pile to pile, trying to recognise the faces. She appealed to the Loraskian for help, but he gave her his species’ equivalent of a shrug, as if to say, ‘You creatures all look the same to me’.

Over near the Hub she spied a few mounds of Quentarans in the marines’ uniform. Of course! That's where Verris would have been at the time of the attack – guarding the Hub and Quentaris's precious icefire.

She scuttled towards those heaps as best as her weak limbs were able, and tried to move the bodies so that she could see better.

Her Loraskian squeaked at a nearby soldier and a team of them began to dismantle the piles of marines, laying the Quentarans in a line so that Tab could see their faces.

Tab walked up the line, examining their features. In the third row she found Verris.

‘Here!’ She squatted down.

The soldier injected Verris with the antidote, and shortly afterwards he was coming around. As soon as he opened his eyes and took in the moth-like soldiers, his hand reached awkwardly for his scabbard, but he had been disarmed.

Tab explained the situation to him. When she described the tunnel and the secret chamber, she could see that the pirate lord was not surprised.