‘The Kenryll’ah looks eager, wouldn’t you say? Well –’ he struggled to his feet – ‘I think I’ll leave you two to it. There’s a certain tavern in Malaz City I’ve been dying to see.’

He gestured and a warren opened, swept over him, and when it closed, Pearl was gone.

Apt watched the Imperial demon acquire its form, a creature twice its weight, hulking and bestial.

The child reached down and patted Apt’s lone shoulder. ‘Let’s be quick with this one, shall we?’

A chorus of shudders and explosions of wood awoke the captain. He blinked in the darkness as Ragstopper pitched wildly about him. Voices screamed on deck. Groaning, the captain pushed himself off the bed, sensing a clarity in his mind that he’d not known in months, a freedom of action and thought that told unequivocally that Pearl’s influence was gone.

He clambered to his cabin door, limbs weak with disuse, and made his way into the passage.

Emerging on deck, he found himself in a crowd of cowering sailors. Two horrific creatures were battling directly in front of them, the larger of the two a mass of shredded flesh, unable to match its opponent’s lightning speed. Its wild flailing with a massive double-bladed axe had reduced the deck and the rails to pulp. An earlier swing had chopped through the mast, and though it remained upright, snagged in cordage somewhere high above them, it leaned precariously, its weight canting the ship hard over.

‘Captain!’

‘Have the lads drag the surviving dories clear, Palet, and back up astern – we’ll lower ‘em from there.’

‘Aye, sir!’ The acting First Mate snapped out the commands, then swung back to offer the captain a grin. ‘Glad you’re back, Carther—’

‘Shut your face, Palet – that’s Malaz City out there and I drowned years ago, remember?’ He squinted at the warring demons. ‘Ragstopper’s not going to survive this—’

‘But the loot—’

‘To Hood with that! We can always raise her – but we need to be alive to do it. Now, let’s lend a hand with those dories – we’re taking on water and going down fast.’

‘Beru fend! The sea’s crawling with sharks!’

Fifty yards farther out, the captain of the fast trader stood with his First Mate, both of them straining to make out the source of the commotion ahead.

‘Back oars,’ the captain said. ‘Full stop.’

‘Aye, sir.’

‘That ship’s going down. Assemble rescue crews, lower the boats—’

Horse hooves clomped on the main deck behind them. Both men turned. The First Mate stepped forward. ‘You there! What in Mael’s name do you think you’re doing? How did you get that damned animal on deck?’

The woman tightened the girth-strap another notch, then swung up into the saddle. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘But I cannot wait.’