Iryn told Ysbel that it was only a matter of time before that particular knot was unpicked and those involved were brought to account. Everything was in hand. All leads were being followed up. As for Ysbel, she had more than exceeded Mother’s expectations, but now it was time for her to return to her usual duties. In due course, when the investigation was complete, she would be given proper recognition for the part that she had played.

As she ran, Ysbel’s untethered thoughts kept returning to the debriefing, and her conversation with Mitkos. The lies she’d told. Mostly by omission. She was uncomfortable about deceiving her boss, and she couldn’t stop thinking about everything that could go wrong. Inadvertently triggering a security bot when she opened sealed records. A swarm of lawkeepers stopping the train carrying Goodwill south. Iryn Moonsdaughter or some functionary in Special Operations sending Mitkos confirmation that she had been signed off from the investigation. Mitkos blowing her story by deciding to clarify the situation with Special Operations, or accidently divulging her plans, such as they were …

A single slip could end her career and send her back to the Gathering Place in disgrace, but Ysbel was in too deep to back out now. Her curiosity and ambition and idealistic zeal – call it passion, even – were driving her forward. She believed that the investigation was too important to be entrusted to Special Operations, which was infamous for serving Mother rather than the greater good, and she sympathised with Raia’s predicament, and Seven’s, and she had made a pact with Goodwill and didn’t want to let him down.

She called up a flitter on her way back to the cabin, stopped off in the bureau’s offices to pick up a new set of bots and check her messages – a pile of stuff relating to neglected work. Nothing yet from Goodwill, but it was early days.

Dalsy was either out or not yet in, but had left a bunch of wildflowers and a packet of oil cakes on Ysbel’s table, with a note saying that she was looking forward to all the fun they’d have working on the summer festival, that she was sure it would help her get back on track. As Ysbel was leaving, Landers wandered in and said he’d heard she was still mired in somebody else’s business, it looked like they’d been running her hard.

‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ Ysbel said, not wanting to get into it with him.

‘You need some rest and relaxation. And I know the absolute best way. Come snow season, we’ll take a flitter up into the mountains. Wear ourselves out skiing cross-country in the finest virgin powder on the planet, have the flitter pick us up when we’re done and come back to the compound and hit the bar.’