There was no mistaking Yuti. He was stripped to the waist, heavyset, his skin glistening as if it had been oiled. The rain trickled in long lines over his many tattoos, all picked out by the broad-spectrum lumens carried on the sanctioners’ shoulders. He wasn’t as tall as Adimir. Hells, he wasn’t as tall as Zidarov, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have taken both of them apart without much disturbing the intricate pattern of blue-black ink on his skin. His eyes were dark, as if the pupils were unnaturally large. He was bald, and his neck bulged with shining muscle. He did not carry a weapon in his hands. It didn’t look like he had one secreted in the cloth folds of his trousers either, but you could never be sure. He walked like a man who could summon a dagger from the rain itself.

Vongella waited for him to approach. ‘I’ll do the talking,’ she said, under her breath.

‘Fine by me.’

And then they were all standing facing one another in the drizzle, weapons held ready.

‘Castellan,’ Yuti said, bowing fractionally.

‘Citizen,’ replied Vongella, not bowing. ‘Tell me, then – what’s been going on?’

Yuti smiled. Zidarov watched him carefully. The man looked at ease, almost relaxed. The smile itself was a curious thing – entirely without warmth, but slippery and courteous in a practised kind of way. He found himself reminded of Mordach.

‘I could ask the same thing,’ said Yuti, folding his arms. ‘But I’ll get to the point. There’re rules in this business. You know them, we know them. When they’re broken, that’s when the hells get let out. I accept that. But – and this is the truth – we haven’t broken anything. So I need to know what you think has happened here.’

‘What I think has happened?’ asked Vongella, giving him one of her very best cool stares.

‘Yes. Because, on the blood of the Holy Throne, I have no idea.’

Vongella folded her own arms, and the two of them suddenly looked like bookends. ‘You can have no complaints. You take out one of ours, we take out a hundred of yours. That’s always been the arrangement.’

‘I could dispute the figures, but you’ll have to tell me which one of “yours” we are supposed to have taken out.’

‘Sanctioner Rovach, Thirty-Four squad. Probator Borodina, still in intensive care. Believe me, if she dies, this is only going to get worse.’

‘I know neither of those names.’

‘Oh, come on,’ said Vongella. ‘Borodina had been working in the suborbitals for months. I’d seen her reports on what you’re doing there. She was diligent, and you hadn’t bought her off. She would have hurt you, Yuti, and all of it within the rules.’

‘I’ll take your word for it. We didn’t target her.’