Tayschrenn cleared his throat. He dabbed a cloth to his nose and pushed back from the table. He stood, adjusted his cloak at his shoulders and signed something to Hattar. The Seti plainsman glanced at her. The narrow slash of mouth under his flattened nose twisted into a sneer. Tayschrenn, crossing to the door, failed to notice his guard’s reaction.

Hattar stepped up to block the doorway and Tayschrenn stopped short, surprised. He signed again. At the table Kiska wondered what was going on; whether it could mean any threat to her. She suddenly felt keenly aware of the weight of Lubben’s curved knife at her side. But these two intended no harm to her, surely?

Hattar, hands clamped at the grips of his sheathed knives, glared at Kiska, spat, ‘No.’

Kiska stood, moving to centre the table between them and her. She massaged her hip where she’d struck her side. What was this – housecleaning? Was she to be silenced? But why should Hattar refuse that? She imagined he’d relish the chance. Yet why wait till now?

Tayschrenn signed furiously. Hattar just smiled, showing sallow teeth. He shook his head. Tayschrenn half-turned to her. He appeared bemused and annoyed.

‘Well,’ he observed, eyeing her. ‘Something of a quandary. I must go upstairs. Hattar refuses to stay here to guard you and I think it still too dangerous to leave you alone.’ He coughed into one fist, cocked a thin brow. It was as if he were guessing her thoughts. ‘How would you suggest we resolve this?’

Kiska wet her lips. ‘Take me with you.’

Tayschrenn turned to Hattar as if that settled the matter. Hattar scowled ferociously. He snapped a sign: negative, Kiska assumed. Tayschrenn answered with a shrug that said it was indeed settled. He waved Kiska to him.

‘You will stay with me. Stand to one side and back two paces. Say nothing and take your cue from Hattar or myself in all things. Do you concur?’ Hardly able to breathe, Kiska nodded. ‘Good.’ He looked to Hattar. Grudgingly, the plainsman edged aside from the door. Tayschrenn passed through. Kiska approached. The Seti warrior said nothing, though his hot gaze bore into her skull.

Side by side, she and Hattar climbed the stairs behind Tayschrenn. She felt as though she’d been inducted into the magus’s bodyguard. And come what may, she suddenly realized, she’d do her best to honour that trust. She prayed there’d be no need.

Hattar watched her sidelong. His lip curled away from his sharp teeth in a sneer of contempt. She glared back. Looking away, he snorted a laugh that said, just you wait.

Light flickered up ahead. These halls were warmer, cosy, and inhabited. They stepped up into a richly appointed hall faced at intervals by doors of polished wood. Sub-Fist Pell and his inner circle had occupied these rooms for the last seven years, but not on this night. She wondered idly just where he was, then dismissed the thought. He’d probably locked himself downstairs in the wine cellar or was passed out in his bunk.