‘She said she’d tear the ship apart until she finds me.’

‘Only if she thinks she hasn’t already got you.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘You were kind to me as well, Fura. I’m sorry about all the screaming.’

Some inkling of what she meant to do formed in my mind. ‘No!’

‘Quiet. You get in that hole before it’s too late. I’ll seal you in good and tight. You wait a day at least, two if you can stand it, then you get out. Bosa’ll be gone by then.’

‘No,’ I said again, but softer this time. ‘You don’t have to do this, Garval. You can still go home.’

‘There’s no home for me, Fura. The skull cracked me open like an egg. What’s broken can’t be put right. Even Rackamore knew that. He was just making the right noises, saying they’d get me back eventually. It was never going to do me any good.’

I edged my way into the hole, trembling at the thought of being sealed in, and of how long I might have to remain there.

‘I won’t forget this.’

‘It’s not about forgetting me. It’s about remembering Bosa Sennen. If the chance ever comes for me to slip a knife into her throat, I’ll do it. But it probably won’t. You, though . . .’ She paused, measuring me up, as if at the last instant she’d called her own judgement into question. ‘You’ll remember. I know you will.’

I was in the hole. There was space to either side of me, stretching away into darkness. I had to draw my knees up high to fit into the gap. It was already uncomfortable, and I’d only been inside for seconds.

Garval reached out and took my hand.

‘Move,’ she said, before allowing our fingers to slip apart. ‘I’m sealing you in. Good luck, Fura.’

‘Good luck, Garval. When you find my sister . . . you’ll tell her I’m all right, won’t you?’

‘Of course.’

‘And that I won’t forget her. I’ll find a way to get her back.’

‘I will.’

Garval slid the panel back into place. There was an outline of light, Garval’s fingertips on the edges of the panel, then darkness.

TWO

TWO

JASTRABARSK

7

7

Voices came and went. Boots and fists hammered on metal. I heard shouts, calls, once or twice a broken-off scream of fury or anguish. It was uncomfortable where I was, and more so by the hour, but the ship was always a creaky, grumbly thing and if I’d stirred I might easily have made a sound that gave away my position. I didn’t stir, though. It wasn’t because I had the willpower to keep myself still, but because the fear was running through my blood and it locked me into place just as if Doctor Morcenx had slipped some paralysing agent into me. My chin trembled and my heart sped, but the rest of me was like rock. Hours and hours passed like that, with the pain of being squeezed into that spot getting louder and sharper, but the fear of moving always beating it, like the two were playing a game to see which could get ahead of the other.