The air seemed to waver, like streams of heat rising from a desert floor. A familiar voice tickled the assassin’s ears. ‘Any idea the last time I’ve had a chance to sleep? It’s all gone to Hood’s shithole over here, Kalam – where are you and what do you want? And hurry up with it – this is killing me!’

‘I thought you were my shaved knuckle in the hole, damn you!’

‘You in Unta? The palace? I never figured—’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ the assassin cut in. ‘No, I’m not in the Hood-cursed palace, you idiot. I’m at sea—’

‘Aren’t we all. You’ve just messed up, Kalam – I can’t do this more than once.’

‘I know. So I’m on my own when I get there. Fine, nothing new in that. Listen, what can you sense of where I am at this moment? Something’s gone seriously awry on this ship, and I want to know what, and who’s responsible.’

‘Is that all? OK, OK, give me a minute ...’

Kalam waited. The hair rose on his neck as he felt his friend’s presence fill the air on all sides, a probing emanation that the assassin knew well. Then it was gone.

‘Uh.’

‘What does that mean, Quick?’

‘You’re in trouble, friend.’

‘Laseen?’

‘Not sure. Not directly – that ship stinks of a warren, Kalam, one of the rarest among mortals. Been confused lately, friend?’

‘I was right, then! Who?’

‘Someone, maybe on board, maybe not. Maybe sailing a craft within that warren, right alongside you, only you’ll never see it. Anything valuable aboard?’

‘You mean apart from my hide?’

‘Yes, apart from your hide, of course.’

‘Only a despot’s ransom.’

‘Ah, and someone wants it getting somewhere fast, and when it gets there that someone wants every damned person on board to forget where that place is. That’s my guess, Kalam. I could be very wrong, though.’

‘That’s a comfort. You said you’re in trouble over there? Whiskeyjack? Dujek, the squad?’

‘Scraping through so far. How’s Fiddler?’

‘No idea. We decided on separate ways ...’

‘Oh no, Kalam!’

‘Aye, Tremorlor. Hood’s breath, it was your idea, Quick!’

‘Assuming the House was ... at peace. Sure, it should’ve worked. Absolutely. I think. But something’s gone bad there – every warren’s lit up, Kalam. Chanced on a Deck of Dragons lately?’

‘No.’

‘Lucky you.’

Realization struck the assassin with a sharply drawn breath. ‘The Path of Hands...’

‘The Path . .. oh.’ The mage’s voice rose, ‘Kalam! If you knew—’

‘We didn’t know a damned thing, Quick!’

‘They might have a chance,’ Quick Ben muttered a moment later. ‘With Sorry—’

‘Apsalar, you mean.’

‘Whatever. Let me think, damn you.’

‘Oh, terrific,’ Kalam growled. ‘More schemes ...’

‘I’m losing hold here, friend. Too tired . .. lost too much blood yesterday, I think. Mallet says ...’