Aist was silent for a while. Eventually she said, ‘Dajeil loves you very much. I’ve known her twenty years. She’s changed completely too, you know; not just you. She was always really independent, never wanted to be a mother, never wanted to settle down with one person, not for a long time, anyway. Not until she was old. You’ve both changed each other so much. It’s . . . it’s really something. Almost scary, but, well, sort of impressive, you know?’

‘Of course.’

There was silence for another while. ‘When do you think you’ll have your baby?’ Aist asked. ‘How long after she has . . . Ren, isn’t it?’

‘Yes; Ren. I don’t know. We’ll see.’ Byr gave a small laugh, almost more of a cough. ‘Maybe we’ll wait until Ren is grown up enough to help us look after it.’

Aist made the same noise. She leant on the parapet again, lifting her feet off the flagstones and balancing, pivoting on her folded arms. ‘How’s it been here, being so far away from anybody else? Do you get many visitors?’

Byr shook her head. ‘No. You’re only the third lot of people we’ve seen.’

‘Gets lonely, I suppose. I mean I know you’ve got each other, but . . .’

‘The ’Ktik are fun,’ Byr said. ‘They’re people, individuals. I’ve met thousands of them by now, I suppose. There are something like twenty or thirty million of them. Lots of new little chums to meet.’

Aist sniggered. ‘Don’t suppose you can get it off with them, can you?’

Byr glanced at her. ‘Never tried. Doubt it.’

‘Boy, you were some swordsman, Byr,’ Aist said. ‘I remember you on the Quietly, first time we met. I’d never met anyone so focused.’ She laughed. ‘On anything! You were like a natural force or something; an earthquake or a tidal wave.’

‘Those are natural disasters,’ Byr pointed out with feigned frostiness.

‘Well, close enough then,’ Aist said, laughing gently. She glanced slyly, slowly, at the other woman. ‘I suppose I’d have found myself in the firing line if I’d stuck around longer.’

‘I imagine you might,’ Byr said in a tired, resigned voice.

‘Yup, could all have turned out completely different,’ Aist said.

Byr nodded. ‘Or it could all have turned out exactly the same.’

‘Well, don’t sound so happy about it,’ Aist said. ‘I wouldn’t have minded.’ She leant over the parapet and spat delicately again, moving her head just so, flicking the spittle outward. This time it landed on the gravel path which skirted the tower’s stone base. She made an approving noise and looked back at Byr, wiping her chin and grinning. She looked at Byr, studying his face again. ‘It’s not fair, Byr,’ she said. ‘You look good no matter what you are.’ She put one hand out slowly towards Byr’s cheek. Byr looked into her large dark eyes.