Apara clung to the soot-clogged rafters and wondered again how she was to find Viktor Akadra in the labyrinthine foundry. The place was a mass of vaults, forges and ratway tunnels – to say nothing of the stowage crates and half-finished kraikons looming through the shadows. She could search for days and still not find him.

The assault on her senses made it all the worse. Not the darkness. She was no stranger to that. The panoply of echoes from running feet, the heat rising from the seething vats. She didn’t care for it at all, and the raven-cloak liked it far less. Its voices squawked and fussed at the edge of her hearing, making a difficult search far worse.

A clatter of metal echoed up from below, chased along by a child’s yelp. Apara shifted position, grasping for purchase on the motionless chainway as she scoured the gantry below.

There. A smudge of filthy white cloth in the gloom. A woman hauling a young boy to his feet. And behind, a man hurrying a girl up a scuffed stairway.

It was exactly what she needed. One fugitive to draw out another.

Letting go of the chainway, Apara spread her raven-cloak wide.

Sevaka steadied herself against the wall and gulped down stifling air. Whatever good Sidara had done the previous night had been rapidly undone through exertion. The heat from the smelting pit didn’t help. Even with the metal dulled to a red smoulder, it sucked the breath from her lungs and dampened her clothes with sweat.

Elzar shook his head and flailed angrily at the air. “Stealing my krai-kons! Twisting their enchantment! It goes against all tradition!”

That, Sevaka decided, was the very least of their worries. “There must be some that’ll take your commands! This is the bloody foundry!”

Voices sounded behind. Sevaka twisted around. Farran’s kraikon stood silhouetted in the loading yard doorway. Hearthguards streamed past, spreading out through the maze of forges and smelting pits.

She pushed clear of the wall and limped towards Elzar. “Come on, old man. Keep moving!”

He gave no sign of hearing. Just stood there between the wall and the smelting pit with both hands gripped to his useless control amulet.

“Hold fast!” bellowed a deep voice behind.

With faltering heart, Sevaka turned about. Two hearthguard bore down.

The nearest straightened in surprise. “Lady Sevaka? But you’re . . . dead?”

“Then leave my corpse be.”

He shook his head. “Can’t do that, my lady. Orders.”

“Yes. I can imagine my mother being very clear.”

Dredging forth her last strength, Sevaka sprang. Steel sparked as she battered a sword aside. She hacked down. A hearthguard screamed and fell at her feet.

The second stepped over the body of the first. Sevaka threw herself under his blade, half-stumbling, half-falling as her trembling leg gave way. Her shoulder took the man in the chest, slamming him back against the smelting pit’s guard rail.