Tarfel was already moving away from the wagon, back in the direction of the one-way door. ‘You know, Vedren,’ he called softly, ‘you were quite right, we really must be going now.’

‘But what are they?’ Chel insisted.

‘Ajagarandan,’ came Kosh’s reply. ‘Demon eggs.’

Chel stepped back from the wagon as Whisper reached them. What is it? Are you all right?

He nodded at the heavy wagon. ‘I think,’ he said, finding his voice harder to work than normal, ‘I think this wagon is loaded with witchfire.’

She stared at him, then at the wagon, then back to him. Why is it here?

‘I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. Let’s get out of here. Fast.’

I’ll get the horses.

‘No, there’s no time. Grab what we need from the wagon and run for the gate.’ Chel put out a hand. ‘Wait. The others could come charging out here any moment. Someone needs to warn them.’

Tarfel looked back in naked horror. ‘You want us to loiter here until we’re incinerated?’

Chel looked past him. ‘Kosh, did you say you could get back through the door?’

She swallowed. ‘I have no wish to return to—’

‘I’ll go,’ Chel snapped, ‘just do what you must to get me inside. Go!’

She went, scrabbling away across the courtyard, visibly relieved to put distance between herself and the wagon of witchfire. ‘Whisper, you and the prince take what you can from the wagon, then get him and Kosh round the front. I’ll warn the others, we can all meet there. If we’re lucky.’ He offered her a nervous grin, which she returned.

Got it.

‘Then let’s—’

Light flickered from the wagon’s far side, casting sudden dancing shadows at their feet. Whisper put up an urgent hand and they froze but Tarfel continued making a tiny whimpering noise.

Voices followed the light. ‘Keep those torches back, Shepherd’s tits! Have you forgotten it all already? Yes, yes, you’ll have passes once your watches are over. On the Steel Terrace. Oh, stop moaning, at least you get to go inside, you worthless fucks. Think the rest of the legions would be allowed within a mile of this place, let alone inside?’

That voice, had he heard it before? A woman’s voice, sharp-edged, one accustomed to command. He’d certainly heard a few of those over the last year or so. Not to mention his mother, come to think of it …

‘New plan: let’s back up to the door,’ Chel whispered, edging into the deep shadow between the wagons and the wall. ‘Either we all get through, or you two skirt round the far side and we meet out the front, right? Remember, the place is busy, and we could be anyone. Chances are, nobody will recognize us anyway. Let’s look like we belong here, draw no attention, then get gone.’