Shiv squealed with delight, the bright afternoon sun adding to the color as every tree decked out its leaves in reds, browns, and glittering golds. Crowds were out, all off to Barkingham Palace for the festival. Adults waved about huge nets attached to bamboo canes, hoping to bag a few falling leaves, and children jumped into Council leaf piles stored up on the woodways. The mounds were ready to be recycled into paper, roofing material, and clothes. The cool autumn air filled with expectation and laughter. “Can we make a lantin?”

“Sorry, sweet pea. No can do. We’re in a bit of a rush.” The thought of missing the lantern parade was a killer. Like Shiv, he’d grown up learning to stitch the leftover leaves into the shapes of full moons, chariots, boats, and miniature trees. With candles on sticks inside, they turned the paths of Arborium into a glowing river of light as the dusk came on.

Tonight, the Harvest Festival wasn’t about celebration, but danger. If they didn’t get a move on, the King would be dead before the night was out, and tomorrow would dawn over an endangered land. The sewage station looked as rickety as ever. Mucum paused to sniff the air.

“It’s stinky!” said Shiv, holding her nose.

Mucum nodded. How he’d missed the pong of honest poo! He pushed open the creaking door. Several faces swiveled in his direction. Mucum put his fingers to his lips as he stalked over to the raised corner of the room, gently putting Shiv down so he could attend to the job in hand.

Jobby Jones resembled a lump of quivering lard, wheezing snores erupting from his open mouth as his dreams took him far from the scent of raw sewage.

“Wakey, wakey, boss!” Mucum snarled as he took a bucket of yellow-colored liquid and poured it all over the fat man’s face.

The effect was instant. Two jellylike eyes shot open. “What? What’s going on? Call the fire brigade!” Jobby Jones leapt off his bed surprisingly quickly for someone of his size. As his pudgy hands tried to wipe the liquid filth from his face, he finally recognized Mucum. “How dare you! I’ll have you reported for this!”

Mucum stood his ground, folding his arms. “Oh yeah? You already did.”

The rest of the sewage workers stood and stared. Waking the gaffer with a bucket of Dendran’s finest produce was not an everyday event.

Jones took in Shiv’s face, split in half with a wide grin. “And infants are not allowed in here!” he screamed. “You lot, get back to work, unless you fancy having a day’s pay docked from your wages!” Usually, the threat was enough. Today was different. This show was too good to miss. Nobody moved. The staring continued.