Kosh led the way to the workshops across the plaza, hunched against the wind, paying no heed to the threat of aerial explosives, her every step an expression of mute fury. The intensity of her rage had taken the others aback; she radiated anger like a cloud. Only Lemon seemed oblivious, or indifferent.

‘What’s all this cloak and denanigans about, then?’

‘You don’t have to come along, Lemon. You and the others could go back and get some sleep.’ It might be your last chance, he didn’t add.

‘Aye, right, and miss whatever antics you and friend Nort are cooking up? I think not, wee bear.’

‘It’s not safe out here.’

‘Betwixt you and me, bearly, it’s not safe anywhere for a poor wee lass of Clyde, down on her uppers, up on her downers, and anything in-between.’

‘Lemon, are you still drunk?’

‘I think the better question, bearskin, is why aren’t you?’

Chel put one hand to his thudding temple. ‘Just lucky, I suppose.’

Kosh led them all through a doorway he didn’t recognize, into a darkened corridor. Guards stood tall at their approach, clearly accustomed to seeing Kosh. After a moment’s hesitation at seeing Chel and the others with her, they opened the inner door. Chel filed in after Kosh, and Lemon, Foss, and Rennic followed, some of their walks steadier than others.

‘What in hells are all these?’

Kosh spoke at last, curt over one shoulder as she moved toward a narrow, winding stairway at the back of the chamber. ‘Looms.’

The loom operators looked up at their entrance, surprised, uneasy. Chel and his companions were unwelcome visitors.

‘They’re still working? Even now?’

‘The siege won’t last forever. When it lifts, this city’s silk will be ever more prized. No matter who carries the victory.’

‘That’s brutal.’

‘That’s economics.’

Lemon stopped beside one of the looms, a large construction of wood and lacquer. She began tracing its mechanism with one finger, to the increasing distress of the woman operating the machine.

‘How does this work, then? Is this hooked up to the water wheels below? Or is it the windmills? Aye, that’s clever.’

‘Leave that!’ Kosh snapped. ‘You should not even be in here – outsiders are forbidden. I was given special dispensation.’

‘Your smuggy balls are showing, Norty.’

‘As is your inebriation.’

‘At least in the morning I’ll be sober.’

‘That is an unsupported assertion.’

Chel ground his teeth. ‘Can we move on?’

The Nort flared her nostrils, then marched for the stairs. ‘Follow me. And touch nothing.’

***

The tower platform had changed since he last saw it, now loaded with a mass of reels and odd, boxy constructions, their shape blurred by the fluttering of the torches at the platform’s edges. The wind fell away with an unexpected suddenness, blocked off by a tall wooden barrier, suspended by some of the criss-crossing ropes.