“Magesta,” said Derkhan loudly, kicking the door closed without looking. “Magesta, you have to stop this. We’re not militia, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m a friend of Benjamin Flex.”

At that Barbile opened her eyes wider and her struggles slowed.

“Right,” said Derkhan. “And Benjamin’s been taken. I suppose you know that.” Barbile watched her and nodded quickly. Lemuel’s enormous employee dropped his hand from Barbile’s mouth experimentally. She did not scream.

“We’re not the militia,” repeated Derkhan slowly. “We’re not going to take you like they took him. But you know . . . you know . . . if we could trace you, if we could suss out who was Ben’s contact, that they’re going to be able to.”

“I . . . That’s why I . . .” Barbile glanced over at the discarded rifle. Derkhan nodded.

“All right, listen, Magesta,” she said. She spoke very clearly, her eyes on Barbile’s all the time. “We don’t have much time . . . Let go of her, you arse! We don’t have much time, and we have to know exactly what’s going on. There is some mighty godsdamned weird stuff going on. And an awful lot of threads seem to converge on you. So let me suggest something. Why don’t you take us upstairs, before the militia come, and explain to us what’s going on?”

“I only just found out about Flex,” said Magesta. She was sitting huddled on her sofa, clutching a cold cup of tea. Behind her a large mirror took up most of the wall. “I don’t really follow the news. I had a meeting scheduled with him a couple of days ago, and when he didn’t come, I got really scared that he’d . . . I don’t know . . . told on me, or something.” He probably has, thought Derkhan, and said nothing. “And then I heard some rumours about what happened in Dog Fenn when the militia put down that riot . . .”

There was no godsdamn riot, Derkhan nearly shouted, but she controlled herself. Whatever reason Magesta Barbile may have had for giving information to Ben, political dissidence was clearly not one of them.

“So these rumours . . .” Barbile continued. “Well, I put two and two together, you know? And then . . . and then . . .”

“And then you hid,” said Derkhan. Barbile nodded.

“Look,” said Isaac suddenly. He had been silent until now, his face twisted tensely. “Can you not fucking feel it? Can’t you taste it?” He shook his hands in claws around his face, as if the air was a tangible thing he could grip and wrestle. “It’s as if the damn night air’s gone rancid. Now, maybe it’s just blind damn coincidence, but so far every bad thing that’s happened for the last month seems to be tied in to some fucking conspiracy, and I’m damn well betting that this ain’t an exception.”