‘We have,’ I said, as Paladin opened the trelliswork door and moved out of the elevator, with me and Morcenx immediately behind. ‘And we’ve said all we need to.’

‘There’s no need to be so hurtful.’

‘Hurtful?’ I spat the word back at him with a laugh. ‘You don’t even know the meaning of it. Hurtful is doing things to people with harpoons and crossbows. Hurtful is making people scream just for the fun of it. Hurtful is what Bosa Sennen will be to Adrana when she finds out how she lied to protect me.’

He hefted the quoins. ‘These won’t get you far.’

‘Then you won’t miss them. Toss Paladin the bag.’

He grimaced, then did as he was told. Paladin whipped out an arm and caught the bag with effortless ease.

‘Scan it, the way you used to scan our pockets.’

‘The bag contains quoins,’ the robot said. ‘However, I cannot determine the contents or value.’

‘It’ll do.’ If Father had skimmed a quoin or two from my bag, I was sure I still had enough to get to the dock, and a little left over for emergencies.

We advanced down the hall. Father moved to the main door, trying to block me off.

‘Open them,’ I said.

‘Fura, please. Let’s at least sit down and—’

‘She means it,’ Morcenx said, in a high, strained voice. ‘It is my considered medical opinion that your daughter is no longer responsible for her actions.’

‘Oh, I’m responsible all right. I’ve never been more responsible. Open the doors.’

‘I won’t just let you go,’ Father said, unlatching the double doors. ‘You understand that, don’t you? I love you too much. I’ll send the constables, get word to Mister Quindar, to the authorities at Incer Dock . . . there’s nowhere for you to go.’

‘You’re wrong,’ I said, as he flung the doors wide and the morning cold surged into the hall. ‘There’s everywhere. Fifty million worlds, and all the baubles and all the Empty. And I’ll scour every part of it until I find her.’

I edged past him, still holding Doctor Morcenx as hostage. Paladin’s wheels bumped down the flight of long, low steps that led up to the house from the garden. He could cope with that sort of stairs, provided they didn’t go on for too long.

‘You have nothing,’ Father called after me. ‘Just your nightclothes. You’re barely dressed. You don’t even have shoes! You can’t go out into the world like that.’

Paladin picked up his pace. I pushed Morcenx forward. The cold stone paving chilled my feet, but it also made me feel sharp and alive and fearless. I looked back. My father was framed in the doorway, silhouetted against the yellow glow of the interior, all the warmth and security of my home, and I knew a quiet, thrilling shame at my own cruelty.