I heard an edge in Cazaray’s voice, but it was not the recrimination I might have feared. ‘No . . . that wouldn’t have done anything to damage the skull. There might be something wrong with the input, or the lines to the bridges, or the bridges themselves . . . but it’s hard to see why. Did you try the spare bridge, the one I used?’

‘No,’ I answered. It was an obvious thing to suggest, and I chided the both of us for not thinking of it.

‘Well, be quick about it. Try some of the other nodes. Only one of you needs to go – the other one can stay here.’

Adrana looked at me. Neither one of us relished being in the bone room alone, but if there was one of us who stood a chance of picking up a faint signal, it was my sister.

‘Adrana’s gone back.’

‘Good,’ Cazaray said, that edge still in his voice. ‘All right. There’s more than likely nothing wrong, just a loose connection somewhere. But let’s backtrack. You mentioned a faint signal . . . was that something you picked up now, since we spoke the last time?’

‘No, sir.’ I swallowed. ‘Whatever it was, it was there before.’

‘But you distinctly said that you hadn’t picked up anything.’

‘We hadn’t, sir.’ All of a sudden I felt as if I had only just joined the crew; that all the weeks that had passed since Mazarile counted for nothing. ‘It wasn’t anything clear. Not a message, not even a word. It was just . . . there. And then it wasn’t. And now most of the lights have gone out inside the skull . . .’

‘What did you say?’

‘Adrana looked inside it, when we knew it wasn’t working. The lights had gone dead, lots of them anyway.’

Cazaray broke off. I could hear him talking to Rackamore, Rackamore answering, but not what either of them were saying. My hands were damp, a line of ice running all the way down my spine. I didn’t know if I’d made some terrible gaffe, or acted just in time. I glanced to the door, wishing Adrana would hurry up.

‘This is the captain,’ Rackamore said. ‘Triglav: can you hear me?’

‘Aye, Captain.’

‘I do not wish to snap to rash conclusions. But the fact that we have just arrived at this bauble, and just had our skull go silent . . . I cannot dismiss the coincidence.’

‘The sweeper’s clear,’ Triglav said.

‘I’m aware of that,’ Rackamore answered urbanely. ‘Nonetheless, we may still need ions and sail at very short notice. Coordinate with Hirtshal to make the necessary arrangements.’

‘What is it?’ I asked Prozor.

She whispered: ‘Captain’s shivery we might be about to be jumped.’

‘Jumped?’

She kept her voice low. ‘Someone waits for us to do the hard work, emptying the loot from a bauble. Then pounces on us and steals our prize. Or tries.’