‘Egészségedre,’ I mumble, forcing myself to meet her gaze. Her expression flickers, just for a moment, before she raises the cup and drinks.

Whatever the liquor is, it stings my lips and makes my eyes water, but it’s good, somehow clean, scouring the dust from my throat.

‘Now,’ Ma Esterházy says, refilling the cups. ‘We may talk. What brings the great Malady Falco so far from Landfall?’

‘Ran into some trouble at the Pit,’ Falco says carefully, sipping at her second cup.

‘So have many of late. I hear this Augur has a new way of seeing to business.’

‘Valdosta’s mad,’ Silas says, cleaning out the bowl of his pipe. ‘Anyone gets even a nick, it’s into the Seekers’ cages.’

‘Was this your experience?’ Esterházy asks, her eyes flickering over me.

‘That or worse. They chased us clean the other side of the plateau before they left off.’ Falco looks down into the cup. ‘Lost a G’hal because of it.’

Esterházy reaches a worn hand across the table and clasps Falco’s bare arm. ‘I am sorry.’

‘As am I.’

‘You will seek retribution?’ There’s a tension in the old woman’s words.

‘The person responsible has already paid the price.’

‘And that was?’

A shadow of a smile lifts Falco’s lips. ‘Dru Moloney.’

They all swear, Esterházy, Bebe and the barman, and Falco laughs. As we drink, Falco and Pegeen tell – if not the truth – a version of Moloney’s death from which the General and I are carefully absent. I stay quiet, and look out the window instead, trying to avoid the old woman’s gaze without truly knowing why.

Outside, the street is listless as before, but beneath the shade of what looks like a locked water tap I see the General and Franzi. The General drinks long from a cold bottle of soda before hesitating, then passing the rest over to the boy, much to his jubilation.

‘Horse is seeing to your ship?’ Esterházy says, so abruptly that I look back.

‘Yes.’ Silas grimaces. ‘Can’t say I am easy about it. The Charis is—’

‘Capricious?’ The old woman smiles at Silas’s surprise. ‘Do not trouble yourself. Horse is a good mechanic, if not a whole man, any longer.’ She casts a look at us, suddenly commanding. ‘You will have shelter beneath my roof for as long as the repair takes. Though I cannot, I’m afraid, promise safety.’

Falco nods. ‘We will take shelter, gladly. Though I hope we’ll be long gone by sundown.’

Esterházy shakes her head. ‘Rest while you can. Night comes fast in the Barrens.’

* * *

For all the woman’s words, I can’t rest. Though – with a vapour shower and a change of clothes, courtesy of Esterházy – I begin to feel calmer. Less like a dog with hackles raised or a soldier who dares not remove their boots at night, for fear of waking to a screamed command.