“Not while your skin is evidence, girl.” The corners of Toke’s mouth dragged sharply down in what seemed to be a curious sort of upside-down smile. Then he sat in silence, his eyes flitting, unseeing, from one side of his desk to the other, as if Mosca had passed him a secret thread and he was following it to find out how it twisted through a mighty web.

“What a mind that woman must have!” he said with admiration. It was the hushed tone of a jeweler studying the largest and finest diamond he will ever see. “Where did you find the press?”

“Ragman’s raft, down under a trap.”

“Of course . . . rags . . . no wonder we could not trace them through their paper, they were making their own . . . That explains the wool threads mixed in with the cotton, and the poor pulping . . . clever rats, clever rats. But we have our own clever rats, don’t we, girl?” He gave her his upside-down smile again. “Where is the press now?”

“Still in the raft, most likely. I ’ad to skip out quick. Didn’t want the ragmen findin’ me.” The press is mine mine mine mine . . .

“No, of course.” His pale, unblinking eyes were fixed on her face. “Let us hope those devils have left the raft tethered far downstream—if I read the wind aright, the next high tide in the estuary will rush the river and cause wild water for miles. The river can tear loose all but the strongest moorings when it’s in that mood, and chew boats to pieces.

“Now, I trust that you can leave more quietly than you arrived . . .”

As soon as the coffeehouse had made fast to the shore and the door had shut behind Mosca, Toke’s yellow head snapped up like the lock on a pistol.

“Wove! Take two men, and do not let her get out of sight!”

“Who, sir?”

“The ferrety-looking girl with the unconvincing eyebrows, of course! The world is full of liars of different humors. Coy liars drop their eyes. Bold liars forget to blink. I saw that girl bite a truth into silence, and that’s a lie in another coat. I’m sure she knows where the press is. She believed my fairy story about the estuary tides, so she’ll soon be running to the press to make it safe. Follow her long enough and she will lead you to it—go!”

Wove left with two stout men. Toke took paper from his writing box, penned a hasty letter, then folded and sealed it.

“Jot! Ride upstream until you find a Waterman—deliver this letter to them and bid them take it to their leader. There is a river battle the Watermen must halt before too many lives are lost. And there is a ship coming from the coast which must be stopped before it reaches Mandelion. Find a fast horse and teach it to fly—go!”