“We’re to be sent on an expedition.”

“Where? For what?” He stared through the portcullis, at the ships. “I need to get home, I must be sure of—my finances, et cetera. Ah! Speaking of!”

He presented her with a fan of gorgeous red envelopes, sealed in silver and marked with names. Payo Mu. Ravi Sharksfin. Barbitu Plane. Baru gasped into her glove. “False papers? Gods, are those—are those complete sets?”

“That’s right. Date stamped, examined, notarized…” He flicked the back of the fan with his thumb. “These are complete lives. Assembled in real time by a dedicated clerk: twenty-two years of work.”

“Legends,” Baru breathed. That was what you called a comprehensive false identity, immune to all inspection. A legend. “I get three? Do you know what these would sell for?”

“They wouldn’t. Don’t get any ideas.”

“Are they imprinted on me?”

“One’s transferable.” He touched the Barbitu Plane envelope. “The identity has a woman’s name, but the race and features have been ambiguated. Don’t hand it over to the first pretty girl you meet, all right? The other identities are a bit flexible, too—”

The keep’s great chime sounded: it was first dog watch, and dinner was beginning. Apparitor piled more envelopes into her arms. “Accounts, accounts, here you are—a list of the banks and names, everywhere from Grendlake to the Llosydanes. The list’s enciphered, the spice word is TAINHU, bit of a joke, see, so you can keep using her to get what you want.”

Baru tore the corner of one of the legends. “Be careful!” she shouted, as if Apparitor had made her do it. But he wasn’t paying attention. Sweat-slick skin under the rim of his mask.

“Svir,” she whispered, trying out his personal name. It felt wrong. “Is it so bad? Will Ormsment really attack us? Has she any chance?”

His throat bobbed and smoothed and went hard with tension. “My lover,” he said, “is the Empire Admiral Lindon Satamine. We put him in the Empire Admiralty to control the navy, especially Ahanna Croftare and her little club of Merit Admirals. Ormsment is one of hers. For all my life with him I’ve studied the navy’s capabilities, against the day they turn on us.

“I would not wager against them if I had every jackal in the Mbo.”

*   *   *

SHE chose a slim sherwani and trousers for dinner, in case they had to flee.

As she came up the stairs the string quartet struck up “In Praise of Human Dignity.” Iraji, sleek and cunning in a black silk waistcoat and piratical pants, flourished, struck the steel chime with his rod, and cried, “Her Excellence Agonist, advisor to Its Imperial Majesty, the Emperor!”