Felisin wrapped herself tighter in her own arms, pivoting to face the straits. We’re dive. I can be patient again. I can bide my time. The mainland burned with rebellion against the Malazan Empire. A pleasing thought. Maybe it would pull it all down – the Empire, the Empress ... the Adjunct. And without the Malazan Empire, peace would once again come. An end to repression, an end to the threat of restraint as I set about exacting revenge. The day you lose your bodyguards, sister Tavore, I will appear. I swear it, by every god and every demon lord that ever existed. In the meantime, she would have to make use of these people around her, she would have to get them on her side. Not Baudin or Heboric – it was too late for them. But the others. The mage, the soldiers ...

Felisin rose.

The corporal watched her approach with sleepy eyes.

‘When did you last lie with a woman?’ Felisin asked him.

It was not Gesler who answered, however. The cross-bowman’s – Stormy’s – voice drifted out from the shadow beneath the sailcloth: ‘That would be a year and a day, the night I dressed up as a Kanese harlot – had Gesler fooled for hours. Mind you, he was pretty drunk. Mind you, so was I.’

The corporal grunted. ‘That’s a soldier’s life for you. Too thick to know the difference .. .’

‘Too drunk to care,’ the crossbowman finished.

‘You got it, Stormy.’ Gesler’s heavy eyes slid up to Felisin. ‘Play your games elsewhere, lass. No offence, but we’ve done enough rutting to know when an offer’s got hidden chains. You can’t buy what ain’t for sale, anyhow.’

‘I told you about Heboric,’ she said. ‘I didn’t have to.’

‘Hear that, Stormy? The girl took pity on us.’

‘He’ll betray you. He despises you already.’

The boy named Truth sat up at that.

‘Go away,’ Gesler told her. ‘My men are trying to get some sleep.’

Felisin met Truth’s startling blue eyes, saw nothing but innocence in them. She threw him a pouty kiss, smiled as colour flooded his face. ‘Careful or those ears will catch fire,’ she said.

‘Hood’s breath,’ Stormy muttered. ‘Go on, lad. She wants it that bad. Give her a taste.’

‘Not a chance,’ she said, turning away. ‘I only sleep with men.’

‘Fools, you mean,’ Gesler corrected, an edge to his tone.

Felisin strode down to the beach, walked out until the waves lapped her knees. She studied the Ripath. Flashburns painted the hull black in thick, random streaks. The front railing of the forecastle glittered as if the wood had been studded with a hail of quartz. The lines were frayed, unravelled where knives had cut.