‘Gather your things, girlie,’ Vidin Quindar said, as we closed in for Hadramaw. ‘Time to meet your daddy and start being a good daughter again. Proper weight on your shoulders now, you being the only one left.’

‘She’s still alive,’ I hissed. ‘And if you say another word against that, I’ll . . .’

‘You’ll what?’ he asked, cracking an interested grin.

‘I saw someone burn from the inside when a harpoon went through them,’ I told him. ‘Saw someone blown up the same way. I saw what a crossbow does to you, fired close enough. You think I don’t have the imagination to come up with something for you?’

‘Old Vidin’s just doin’ his job, girlie – ain’t no need to make it personal.’

‘It’s been personal from the moment you hurt Prozor.’

The ship was too large to dock at Hadramaw, so launches came to ferry the cargo and passengers down to the port. ‘No funny games now,’ Quindar warned, as if I might try something at the last moment.

But I had no intention of running. I’d reached an acceptance of my fate. My father could do what he liked, but in three months I’d be a legal adult, with all the same rights and responsibilities as Adrana. Now, three months was a terribly long time to leave Adrana at the mercy of Bosa Sennen, but finding her again was always going to take time, and a little delay wouldn’t necessarily hurt. It would give me time to cover my tracks a bit; to make sure I really had a plan that could hold lungstuff. I was going to have to be sly and resourceful, and sometimes you had to let people think they’d won when in fact they hadn’t.

Our launch brought us to one of the docking ledges at the Hadramaw complex. Quindar’s paperwork was subjected to more scrutiny. He had a smirky, smug answer for every question, though, and before long we were through and in the elevator that hurried us down to the surface of Mazarile. Gravity increased as we neared the ground. My bones and muscles started grumbling about it.

It was night and the port wasn’t too busy. Quindar took me to a private room, all wood-panelled walls with no windows, and there was my father, along with two representatives from the legal firm that had organised my return.

‘Excellent work, Vidin,’ said one of the representatives. ‘Mr Ness expresses his gratitude.’

‘Course he does,’ Quindar said, tipping off his hat to expose his bald cranium. ‘And it’s been old Vidin’s pleasure to bring about this most harmonious reunion.’

I turned back to look at my father. He looked smaller and frailer than I remembered, and that was a proper shock. The representatives were standing on either side of him, like bookends, as if they thought he might crumple at any moment.