‘We must pay a visit to a certain impounded ship. I will explain on the way. Oh, and next time don’t offer to pay off someone else’s debt... until you find out how big it is.’

And next time, leave that pompous attitude at the stable doors. ‘Very well.’

‘And stop taking charge.’

She glanced over at him. ‘You advised me to use my charm, Pearl. It’s hardly my fault if I possess more of that quality than you.’

‘Really? Let me tell you, that corporal was lucky you stepped between us.’

She wanted to laugh, but pushed it back. ‘You clearly did not notice the weapon under the man’s bed.’

‘Weapon? I care—’

‘It was a two-handed flint sword. The weapon of a T’lan Imass, Pearl. It probably weighs as much as I do.’

He said no more until they reached the Silanda.

The ship’s berth was well guarded, yet clearly permission for Pearl and Lostara had been provided earlier, for the two were waved onto the old dromon’s battered deck then left deliberately alone, the ship itself cleared of all others.

Lostara scanned the area amidships. Flame-scarred and mud-smeared. A strange pyramidal mound surrounded the main mast, draped in a tarpaulin. New sails and sheets had been fitted, clearly taken from a variety of other vessels.

Standing at her side, Pearl’s gaze fell upon the covered mound, and he voiced a soft grunt. ‘Do you recognize this ship?’ he asked.

‘I recognize it’s a ship,’ Lostara replied.

‘I see. Well, it’s a Quon dromon of the old, pre-imperial style. But much of the wood and the fittings are from Drift Avalii. Do you know anything of Drift Avalii?’

‘It’s a mythical island off the Quon Tali coast. A drifting island, peopled with demons and spectres.’

‘Not mythical, and it does indeed drift, though the pattern seems to describe a kind of wobbly circle. As for demons and spectres . . . well. . .’ he strode to the tarpaulin, ‘hardly anything so frightening.’ He drew the covering back.

Severed heads, neatly piled, all facing outward, eyes blinking and fixing on Pearl and Lostara. The glimmer of wet blood.

‘If you say so,’ Lostara croaked, stepping back.

Even Pearl seemed taken aback, as if what he had unveiled was not entirely what he had expected. After a long moment he reached down and touched a fingertip to the pooled blood. ‘Still warm ...’

‘B-but that’s impossible.’

‘Any more impossible than the damned things being still conscious – or alive at the very least?’ He straightened and faced her, then waved expansively. ‘This ship is a lode’ stone. There are layers upon layers of sorcery, soaked into the very wood, into the frame. It descends upon you with the weight of a thousand cloaks.’

‘It does? I don’t feel it.’