It seemed to shock the people of the fortress just as much – they came running out of all the doors and clustered, staring up.

Nothing else, all night. I ate cold food and put the beasts in shelter, then lay on the branch and watched. Three moons shone on the thieves’ tower – even in the dappled moonlight the pale walls gleamed. Whoever the Makers were, they could build. An owl is hooting in the wood; the wet branches stir around me, dripping on this page.

Tomorrow, if nothing else happens, I’ll have to try and get inside. This might not be too difficult. My face isn’t known – after all this is my first real mission, first time outside the Watchhouse. And according to what I’ve heard, Alberic’s tower is a nest of cut-throats, poachers, thieves, renegades. People come and go there all the time, with no real rules except Alberic’s orders. Maybe no one will notice one more vagabond.

Especially if she is a girl.

Karnosday, early

No need. They’re coming out. Two figures have just left the gate, and they look like Harn and the boy. They must be in some plot with Alberic – he’d never let them go otherwise. It’ll take me a while to get down the hill and after them. But this is luck, real luck.

Dead or alive, say the orders. And I won’t lose them now.

7

The Order will survive. They can never kill us all. Underground, well-hidden, we have knowledge that can outlive the world.

Reputed last words of Mardoc Archkeeper, from the rack

‘ARE YOU SURE?’ Galen stood on the grass under the oak and stared back at the misty country they had crossed.

‘Not sure.’ Raffi shrugged, uneasy. ‘Just a feeling. As if someone touched me and drew back. It may have been nothing.’

‘Unlikely.’ Galen hadn’t moved; shading his eyes from the rising sun, he stared east. ‘It could have been an animal.’

‘Do you think Alberic is having us followed?’

Galen came and sat on the wet grass. ‘I doubt that.’

‘But he knows we could go anywhere!’

‘He has the box.’

‘Yes, and that was a big mistake.’

Galen gave him an icy glare. ‘If I want your opinion, boy, I’ll ask. The box is nearly dead. And he’s greedy but wily. He’ll keep it for himself, a personal weapon to keep his rabble in order. He won’t risk wasting it.’

Raffi simmered, his back against the ridged oak-bark. Galen was right. He was always right. Except about Tasceron.

‘Well,’ the Relicmaster said grimly, ‘if you think someone’s following, you’d better look back.’ He looked resentful. ‘Take your time.’