I said, ‘You might find the front just as refreshing. Have you ever seen a live Insect? No? Well, I can show you things even more exciting than Hacilith.’

She glanced at Rawney. ‘Bring him, too,’ I said. ‘Lightning will love him.’

She said slowly, ‘Hacilith is more cleansing. I can get lost here. Nobody knows who I am.’

‘I think they do!’

‘Bollocks, Jant. Bollocks. Listen. There are three sorts of people: the ones in Awndyn or Micawater don’t have to ask who one’s father is, because they know and they take it for granted. Then I travelled a bit and met the sort, like in Aver-Falconet’s household, who do think it’s important to ask who one’s father is. They’re surprised and a bit scared when I tell them, because they don’t really know what to say. They think they should treat me with kid gloves. I hate them. Then there are the real people, like these Morenzians. It never occurs to them to ask; as far as they’re concerned it’s a meaningless question. They treat me the same as any other girl.’

‘That’s the problem.’

Rawney said nothing but became gradually redder and redder in the face until he burst. ‘You know fuck all, immortal! You left this town! You hit the big time. Yeah, you went away and won immortality and married money. So what are you doing here? Why have you come here? Go fuck off back to the Castle. Go on-get out! You don’t belong here with your fucking smart comments and your weird old-fashioned clothes!’

I tilted my head and gave him a good look with my cheekbones. If he wanted a fight I could shove my axe up his arse in three moves. ‘I swear,’ I said softly. ‘If we didn’t send the people of Hacilith to fight Insects, they’d be fighting each other.’

Rawney flinched, glanced at Cyan and rallied. ‘Look, babe, we’re talking to a madman. A real creep. He’s two hundred years old and he’s not going to die so he must be mad compared to us mortals. He has nothing to do with us.’

Cyan pursed her lips. ‘It is off-putting that he always looks the same. It reminds me of when I was small.’

I sighed, sick of invective. ‘Please, Cyan. I don’t want to leave you here. I can’t tell Lightning this.’

‘I can’t believe you’re on Daddy’s side!’

‘I’m not. I agree that you shouldn’t sweetly follow the life he’s planned for you. Forget the governorship, if you want. That’s fine by me. But I think you’re a bit vulnerable and-’

‘I can look after myself!’ She grabbed the bow from under the sofa and before I could stop her, she slid it out of its holster.

The bar suddenly went very quiet. Every face turned towards us, but Rawney stood up and called, ‘Do you want to see another trick?’

To my astonishment they all began to applaud. Nobody slipped out to call the constables. Cyan acknowledged them with a wave. She held her bow across her knee and ran her hands over it to warm it, then carefully bent its limbs back and strung it. They were tapered, surprisingly whippy for a reflex bow. She slipped a horn ring on her thumb and pulled two arrows, shorter than fyrd standard arrows, from the quiver. She pressed ginger beer bottle corks onto their sharp bodkin points, saying, ‘I’ll show you my trick.’

‘I’ve seen this. It’s one of Lightning’s stunts.’

‘No, it’s my trick.’ She lost none of the emphasis the second time round, so I decided to let her win. ‘Go on, then.’

She did not bother to stand up. She nocked an arrow and drew it to her cheek with a pinch grip. She aimed and let fly.

A bottle on the furthest table jumped into the air, clattered down and started spinning round, flashing its empty neck and base.

Cyan shot the second arrow and it recorked the spinning bottle. The force of its impact sent it off the edge of the table. It skidded across the floor bounced off a young man’s foot. He held it up, the cork firmly fixed and the arrow protruding.

Cyan’s impromptu audience gave her another round of applause. She stretched up her arm and raised her three middle fingers, her thumb holding her little finger down. It was the archers’ salute, long ago, and now it’s a very filthy gesture.

‘See!’ she said to me. ‘All these new friends!’ And louder: ‘Let’s show Comet a good time. All the drinks are on me!’

There was a cheer and the sound of a general rush to the bar. Much impressed, I said, ‘You’re very accurate. And that’s a glorious bow.’

‘Thanks. It’s one of Daddy’s own designs.’

‘Don’t ever use it in Hacilith again when I’m not here! Why don’t you come to the front, if you’re keen on shooting? You can practise on Insects every day.’

‘I am not going to Daddy. There’ll be two bridges over the Foin before I do! The Emperor will leave the Castle, god will return and the world will end before I talk to him!’

‘He did his best. He brought you up as well as he could.’ I indicated the bow as an example of Lightning’s largesse.

‘Huh. It was his fault my mother was killed. He could have saved her but he let her die.’

I put the bottle down. ‘What? Who told you that?’

‘Carmine Dei. One of my stepsisters.’

‘She’s lying. Lightning did all he could to save your mother. I know; I was there.’ Cyan’s stepsister was as big a bitch as their mother, Ata, had been. After she died, some of her huge family remained in contact, a large clandestine organisation, and these days Carmine has the whole suspect network well under her hand. She was the city’s harbourmaster; she had failed in the last competition for Sailor, and being Sailor manqué had made her even more poisonous.

I said, ‘You mustn’t listen to anything Carmine says. Are you staying with her?’

‘No. Not quite. Carmine told me a lot of Daddy’s secrets and I know some of them must be true. After all he abandoned me with Governor Swallow Fatarse. She made me learn silly musical instruments I wasn’t the slightest bit interested in. Once, when I was little, I pretended to be an Insect under her dumb piano and I accidentally scratched it. She went totally crazy. After that being an Insect was out of the question. Silly cow. And she plays Daddy better then she plays any instrument! I visit Micawater now and then, but he doesn’t realise how long the gaps are between visits. What is he doing that’s so damn important I had to fend for myself?’

Cyan has never had to fend for herself. Everywhere she goes, servants hover to accommodate her every whim. I tilted the glass back and swilled whisky. I didn’t want any more hassle. Cyan had used up my quota of patience and I had far too much on my mind. I wasn’t sure if I was becoming wise with age, or simply exhausted; but then, if wisdom is a more prudent use of one’s time, maybe it’s exhaustion that forces us to be wise.

I shook my head. ‘Whatever. Oh, what it is to be seventeen and open to rumour. Believe what you like. I won’t tell Lightning that I found you. But when you tire of gallivanting around the city, join us at the front, all right?’

‘Great!’ She lit another cigarette and offered me one, leaning forward to light it with her own.

Rawney glanced at her jealously, but he slopped some more whisky into my glass. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. He shook the bottle, then looked at me oddly. ‘Damn. All the tales I’ve heard about Rhydanne are true.’

‘Another cretinous comment from you and I’ll post you to Ressond. Anyway, Rhydanne live above five thousand metres. We need to drink alcohol so our blood doesn’t freeze.’

‘Oh, yeah,’ he said sarcastically.

‘All true,’ I said. ‘No word of a lie. Would I lie to you? No. We have to drink alcohol constantly. And it takes Rhydanne minds off their awful food. There’s no time for cuisine between the hunting and the hangovers; I think they only bother to cook because they can’t eat it raw.’

Cyan said, ‘It can’t be true you’re the only mix of Awian and Rhydanne.’

I shrugged. ‘I’m sure there were others, and there will be others in future, for as long as Awians keep trying to conquer peaks…I keep pulling their stupid flags off and sending them back. Some Awian-Rhydanne children might have been unviable and didn’t survive. Maybe some never made it out of Darkling or weren’t able to fly, either not strong or not clever enough to learn. It took me ten years, after all. I should imagine most half-breed babies were thrown over cliffs. I would have been if it wasn’t for Eilean. A Rhydanne single mother will kill an unwanted baby that slows her down.’