‘I told her,’ said Bel quickly. He indicated a rope ladder hanging down the wall, out of the closest embrasure. ‘We’d best hurry. The Queen’s guards will be coming round in a minute, and I’d rather explain this after you’re gone, Clariel.’

‘Goodbye then,’ said Clariel, her voice breaking. There was a still moment where she almost reached out to Bel, to hug him, to let out some feeling that she had long suppressed. But the moment passed. She ducked her head and lowered herself backwards through the embrasure, feeling for the rungs of the ladder. When she had a good footing, she transferred her hands to the ropes and began to climb down.

‘The boat is spelled, but I’ve got someone to help you,’ said Bel. He was leaning down, his hand outstretched, ready to catch Clariel if she missed her grip. ‘He’ll be a faithful servant. He’s magicked to serve you, we didn’t know what else to do with him. It wasn’t his fault –’

Bel’s words were lost in the thud of a long, slow wave hitting the wall below. Clariel looked down. There in the moonlight was a small fishing boat, its sails furled, up against a rectangular rock that formed a makeshift quay. A white-bearded old fisherman was holding the boat there, one foot aboard and one on shore.

He held out a hand to help Clariel as she reached the bottom of the ladder and stepped into the boat. He either didn’t notice the mask or paid it no heed.

‘Take a thwart, there, milady,’ he said easily, unshipping an oar and using it to push off from the rock. ‘Name’s Marral. Folk call me Old Marral. We’ll row out a bit and get the sail up. Wind’s fair for the north, and that young chap said he’d spelled her for a fast voyage. Bit of luck me getting this job, if you don’t mind me saying so. I’ve been sick, you know. But I’m all better now. Don’t you worry. I’m all better now.’

Clariel nodded and drew her cloak around her. As Marral rowed she watched the dark bulk of the wall grow smaller, and then they were out of its shadow, and she saw the lights of the city beyond. So many lights, brighter and more numerous even than the stars above them.

She watched the lights for a long time, long after Marral had stowed the oars and raised both sails, watched them till the city was just a sparkling jewel on the far horizon.

‘Begging your pardon, milady,’ said Old Marral. ‘But they didn’t tell me your name.’

‘I’m not sure myself,’ said Clariel slowly. ‘I will think of it, in time.’

author’s note