‘When the offer is right,’ said Nayl.

Drusher stiffened.

‘I’m not a mercenary,’ he said.

Nayl shrugged.

‘I am,’ he replied.

He looked at Drusher.

‘Just to be fair,’ he said, ‘you say you’ve had insane adventures.’

‘I have.’

‘I’m sure. I’m also sure that whatever escapades you and the marshal have enjoyed in the past… they’re nothing. Nothing compared to what we do.’

‘You underestimate what–’

‘No,’ said Nayl.

‘Then you’re boasting.’

‘Not that either. I’m just trying to tell it to you straight. In all fairness. This isn’t going to be like anything you’ve known before.’

‘It must be like something I’ve known, sir,’ said Drusher, ‘or you wouldn’t need my expertise.’

Nayl thought about that.

‘Well, you know animals,’ he admitted. ‘You know how to let a wild thing out of a cage, and what will happen when you do. This is going to be like that, only in reverse.’

‘Putting something back in a cage?’

‘Mmm-hmm. We’ll do the heavy graft. We just need expertise. Identification. Insight. That sort of thing.’

Drusher fastened the kitbag.

‘Ready?’ Nayl asked.

‘Yes,’ said Drusher. He paused. ‘No, wait. Cages. You reminded me. I’ll be right back. Two minutes.’

He went outside, to the back of the property. It was nearly dawn. The sky had turned mauve over the white dunes. It almost looked beautiful. Typical, Drusher thought. Now that I’m finally leaving…

He went to the pens and opened the cages one by one, shooing out the tarkonils and the seabirds. He couldn’t leave them caged up and not come back. He threw down some feed for them, and they started to peck, strutting around the little yard warily.

They’d have to fend for themselves. It wasn’t kind, but it was kinder than leaving them penned up to starve.

He looked at the property. He wasn’t coming back. He wouldn’t miss it.

He realised he was being watched.

The sea raptor was perched on a fence strut at the top of the dunes. It should have been down the coast by now, or out to sea, but there it was, watching him.

Drusher took off his spectacles, cleaned the lenses on the hem of his shirt so he could see better, and put them back on.

The sea raptor ruffled its wings, then spread them and powered down in one long swoop, landing on the ridge of the pens above him. It clacked its proud beak.

Drusher smiled.

‘So all those months of being a bastard,’ he said to it softly, ‘and you wanted to stay after all? You could have sat on the back of my chair at night, watched me work… Go on, now. You’re free.’

The raptor tilted its head and studied him.

‘Go on,’ he said. ‘I’m going. You can go too. But thanks for seeing me off and everything.’