‘You’ll get one. Look, we’ll give Paladin the slip for now. Then we’ll have some more fun and find our own way home. I’ll cover for you.’

‘You’d better come into the back,’ Madame Granity said. ‘The robot won’t follow you in there.’

‘How do you know?’ I asked.

‘Mr Quindar’ll see that it doesn’t.’

Behind the desk was a gap in the fabric, cinched loosely shut. Madame Granity undid it and led us through another partition. There was a big chair, with a padded back and a high headrest, tilted back on a sturdy-looking frame. A man was lying in the chair, a hat jammed low over his face, snoring, a newspaper spread across his chest. Madame Granity did up the cinch in the fabric then went over and gave the man a shove.

‘Eh, eh?’ the man said, dropping the newspaper.

‘Wake up and earn your commission. I’ve got the Ness sisters here and there’s a robot on its way to take them home.’

‘A robot?’

Adrana was lingering, one eye up to the gap in the fabric. ‘Yes, and it’s coming inside.’

I didn’t need to be able to see Paladin to hear the crunch of its wheels, the hum it put out, the buzzy whine as it moved its arms.

‘Get off the throne, Mr Quindar. And you,’ Madame Granity said, pointing to me, ‘you get on it. I know your sister’s got the gift, and it often runs in siblings, however I’d still like to see it for myself.’

‘What gift?’

‘Just get in the chair,’ Adrana said.

‘What do you want me to do about the robot?’ Mr Quindar asked, bending himself off the throne.

‘Stop it coming in here for starters,’ Madame Granity said.

Now that he wasn’t lying down, it was clear that the man was very tall and thin. He wore a long black coat, and the hem of it should have covered most of his legs, but they seemed to stick out more than was right, like black stilts. His feet didn’t quite seem to brush the ground, like a puppet that wasn’t being operated very well. He reached into the coat with his right hand and came out with a stubby black stick, gave it a flick, and it popped out to six times its original length.

‘ “Stop it,” she says. Vidin’ll stop it. Stopping things is what Vidin does, most of the time.’

Without any great urgency, the man walked to the other side of the chamber, raised the stick, and began to smash it against the dividing curtain. After a few blows he stepped up his attack, reaching with his other hand to undo the cinch. The curtain dropped open, Paladin now fully exposed.

‘Come on. Show old Vidin what you’ve got, you wheely devil.’