‘I asked a sailor, Kalam, how else? That salt-crusted friend of yours pretending to be in charge, what’s his name again?’

‘I don’t recall asking.’

‘It’s a true, admirable talent, that.’

‘What is?’

‘Your ability to crush your own curiosity, Kalam. Highly practical in some ways, dreadfully risky in others. You’re a hard man to know, harder even to predict—’

‘That’s right, Elan.’

‘Yet you like me.’

‘I do?’

‘Aye, you do. And I’m glad, because it’s important to me—’

‘Go find a sailor if you’re that way, Elan.’

The other man smiled. ‘That is not what I meant, but of course you’re well aware of that, you just can’t help flinging darts. What I’m saying is, I enjoy being liked by someone I admire—’

Kalam spun around. ‘What do you find so admirable, Salk Elan? In all your vague suppositions, have you discovered a belief that I’m susceptible to flattery? Why are you eager for a partnership?’

‘Killing the Empress won’t be easy,’ the man replied. ‘But just imagine succeeding! Achieving what all thought to be impossible! Oh yes, I want to be part of that, Kalam Mekhar! Right there alongside you, driving blades into the heart of the most powerful Empire in the world!’

‘You’ve lost your mind,’ Kalam said in a quiet voice, barely audible above the seas. ‘Kill the Empress? Am I to join you in this madness? Not a chance, Salk Elan.’

‘Spare me the dissembling,’ he sneered.

‘What sorcery holds this ship?’

Salk Elan’s eyes widened involuntarily. Then he shook his head. ‘Beyond my abilities, Kalam, and Hood knows I’ve tried. I’ve searched every inch of Pormqual’s loot, and nothing.’

‘The ship herself?’

‘Not that I could determine. Look, Kalam, we’re being tracked by someone in a warren – that’s my guess. Someone who wants to make certain of that cargo. A theory only, but it’s all I’ve got. Thus, friend, all my secrets unveiled.’

Kalam was silent a long moment, then he shook himself. ‘I have contacts in Malaz City – an unexpected converging well ahead of schedule, but there it is.’

‘Contacts, excellent – we’ll need them. Where?’

‘There’s a black heart in Malaz City, the blackest. The one thing every denizen avoids mention of, wilfully ignores – and there, if all goes well, we will await our allies.’

‘Let me guess: the infamous tavern called Smiley’s, once owned by the man who would one day become an Emperor – the sailors tell me the food is quite awful.’

Kalam stared at the man in wonder. Hood alone knows, either breathtakingly sardonic or ... or what, by the Abyss? ‘No, a place called the Deadhouse. And not inside it, but at the gates, though by all means, Salk Elan, feel free to explore its yard.’