Petronio felt relieved. At last there was someone to plead his cause. “My lady, I did as you said.” Quickly, he related the events of the preceding night, leaving out his encounter with Flinty but stressing how well negotiations had gone.

When he’d finished, Fenestra turned to his father and waited.

“I suppose congratulations are in order.” The words were reluctant, grudging.

“Would that you praised your son more highly!” Fenestra hissed. “He has parlayed on our behalf with a man who would happily have had your boy flayed alive if he didn’t like the cut of his cloth! Trust me, I know what Julius Flint is made of!”

Petronio felt the warmth of her praise. This was more like it.

Lady Fenestra continued, “We have put out bait in the form of gleaming treasure, and your commander has stepped into the snare. He is ours now! The plan shall succeed. In five days, your little island country shall be utterly changed.”

All thoughts of hunger fled from Petronio as an idea formed in his mind.

“May I speak further?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “There might be a way to bring our sewer muck out from whatever infested rat hole he’s hidden in.” That was it. He had their attention now. Even his father couldn’t help but look up at him.

Petronio surprised himself with the perfection of this solution. “My lady mentioned bait. The boy has a younger sister, whom he adores. Your men should arrest her.”

“A four-year-old girl!” protested Grasp, with no clue as to which direction his son’s mind was moving.

But Fenestra clapped her hands together. “On my word, young Petronio Grasp. That is —”

“Workable!” interrupted Petronio. “Firstly, it keeps the family quiet. There’ll be no blabbing about plots against the King.” He paused, relishing for a moment their rapt attention. “Then put the little girl in the cells beneath this house and wait for the worm to come out of its hole. When he does, promise me this, Father!” He was the one in control now, not asking but making a statement of final intent. “I let him go before. But this time, as the slimy squit wriggles on the hook, he’s all mine!”

19• DEEP DOWN

There was no point fighting gravity. As he shot through space, Ark could dimly make out the forms of Mucum and Joe ahead of him, plunging like helpless babies with only thin umbilical cords to connect them to the real world. While trying to quell the rising tide of nausea and panic, he thought of his family. Shiv and his mother and father were farther away than ever. He was going where few Dendrans had dared. And it wasn’t where he was supposed to be!