A memory came to him from when he was younger. A school outing away from the city. One of the pupils suddenly shouted out, “Egghead!” They’d all looked up to see the strange outwoodish figure, striding past them. The clothes were obviously different: flowing, white, elegant compared to the practical stuff they wore in the forest. As the Rootshooter walked away, the rest of the class pointed fingers and burst into laughter. Anyone not Dendran was fair game. Mucum felt his face go hot with shame. No wonder they kept themselves to themselves.

There was no time to lose. Joe had told him where Ark was most likely to land. Mucum set off, trying to shake away that last look in Flo’s eyes. His main problem now was Arktorious Malikum and then the small matter of saving their little island. Oh, for the easy life …

As he pounded the boards, trying to work out if he’d intercept his mate in time, a weeping face distracted him. It was a woman walking alone, her face streaked with tears.

“Mrs. Malikum?”

The face looked up, eyes drained, mouth looking as if it would never smile again. “Is that you, young Master Gladioli?”

Mucum winced. At work, his second name was forbidden territory. He was nobody’s flower. This once, he’d make an exception.

“You appear to be wet. Have you been swimming?”

“Not really.” There was no way he could tell her the truth. “Are you all right?”

“I’m … fine. Just been to kirk.”

“Did you see Ark … Arktorious?”

“No. Yes. I mean, never mind. You go home. Save yourself.” Her voice was high-pitched, almost hysterical.

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. It’s best. Good-bye!” She moved to brush past him.

“But wait. Don’t you wanna know about the King and all that and what we tried to do?”

Mrs. Malikum didn’t even react.

“Somefin’s wrong ’ere. Where’s Ark? Tell me!”

She paused, biting her bottom lip. “I’ve been told to say nothing. But I had to speak. I went to see the Warden and told her everything. She said that Ark would be fine and not to worry about Shiv, but I ask you. My little girl …” The woman was gabbling like a goose.

“Hang on a sec! Shiv? What’s she got to do with it?”

Mrs. Malikum peered around Mucum’s broad back, scanning the trees as if danger lurked in every knothole. “I was told to say that she’s ill. But you’ve been with Ark, I can trust you…. She’s my daughter and they took her. Grasp’s men. For treason, they said.” She dissolved then, almost collapsing into the boy’s arms.