‘Longer than you’d care to know. And I won’t be the last, either. I’ll take my place with the others, proudly, and pass on the good work of Bosa Sennen to my natural successor – and if you’re the sister you say you are, you won’t have much trouble guessing who I mean. She’s a fine enough boney now, but they don’t last, do they? And she’s older than you, so she’s nearer the day when the bones stop whispering. But I’ve plans for her beyond then. She’ll make a worthy Bosa, will Adrana Ness.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘She won’t. She’s strong.’

‘They said as much about Illyria. Never thought Bosa could turn Rackamore’s daughter, and yet here I am, living and breathing.’

‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Why do you do this?’

‘For the quoins,’ she said.

‘They’re useless to you,’ I replied. ‘You can’t go anywhere to trade or deposit them, so what’s the point? Centuries of plunder and butchery to sit on a fat pile of money you can’t ever spend?’

‘It was never about making myself rich. It’s about keeping the quoins under my eye, where they can’t come to harm. Where they can’t get their claws or feelers on ’em.’

‘It’s just money,’ I said, hoping that the doubt didn’t cut through my voice and show itself.

Bosa smiled at me, and it was like Pol Rackamore was standing before us, looking fondly on the remnants of the crew he’d loved. ‘That’s what they want you to think. Shall I let you in on another secret?’ Slowly she lifted one of her hands, revealing the thing she’d cupped in the palm.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘This one you’ll like.’ She was grinning, all pleased with her own cleverness. ‘It’s one of Bosa’s favourites. It’s not Ghostie, but they weren’t the only ones who knew how to put the shivers in us.’

She was holding a small, jewelled device that could have been a badge or a gaming token, and her thumb was caressing part of it.

‘It’s a weapon, but you guessed that. Fifth or Sixth Occupation – ask your Assessor, if you’re that interested.’

‘Our Assessor had an accident,’ I said.

‘That’s a shame. You’ll just have to take it on trust, won’t you? It’s a delayed designation device – a Firefist. While I was in here I designated its attack points. Didn’t I, Trusko? You saw the light as it marked its targets.’

I looked at Trusko, and he looked at Illyria Rackamore, but if there was any acknowledgement in that glance it was too furtive or fleeting for me.

‘No one uses an energy weapon on a ship,’ I said.