Maddalena sprinkled dye on her palm and signed the form. Having released the longest-serving untried prisoners, the Council, even in its death throes, was still fighting every smaller concession. Nobody in the mountain was quite sure what Tarquinia had or hadn’t done, but compared to four years without trial, four stints did not evoke quite so much passion. Ramiro had had the money for a bond himself, but it had taken all his time to collect the requisite eight dozen signatures from disinterested travellers willing to attest that her ongoing imprisonment offended their sense of justice.

He left Maddalena’s office and headed for the jail.

At the guard post there was more bureaucracy to deal with. Ramiro tried to stay calm as all the paperwork he’d lodged was scrutinised and complained about and the associated photonic records summoned, peered at and misunderstood.

After half a bell of this idiocy, the guard told him, ‘Just wait now. We’re bringing her out.’

Ramiro watched her gait as she emerged. If she’d been shackled, she showed no sign of it now. He dragged himself forward and embraced her.

‘Are you all right?’

‘You know what they say,’ Tarquinia replied. ‘There’s no greater honour than following Yalda, mother of all prisoners.’

Ramiro wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic.

‘What did you hear about the disruption?’ he asked, as they moved away down the corridor, side by side on the guide ropes.

‘Explosions at the base. People coming and going from the void. The confused version everyone got in the aftermath – that’s all, no details.’

Ramiro said, ‘Two of the tubes were breached at the base, but they were resealed in time. Giacomo’s group had their own occulters; they would have torn open the axis if they could.’

Tarquinia had thought things over for too long to be surprised by the betrayal. ‘What stopped them?’

‘Agata,’ Ramiro replied. ‘With a couple of dozen friends. They went out onto the base and tossed the bombs into the sky. Only three light collectors were physically damaged. It was the flash from the explosions that caused the disruption.’

Tarquinia absorbed that in silence.

‘They saved the Peerless,’ Ramiro said. His gratitude was sincere, but he still felt like a hypocrite.

‘Was anyone hurt?’

‘Agata lost a lot of flesh. For a couple of stints no one thought she’d survive, but she’s finally recovering.’

Tarquinia hummed softly. ‘Can we visit her?’

‘Of course.’