Bellis had had supper with Carrianne. She liked her ex-colleague sincerely, finding her perceptive and humorous. But still, as she made an effort to smile, Bellis’ sense of loneliness was unabated. Is it a surprise? she asked herself ruthlessly. You court it; you milk it; you make it.

She remembered how things had been in New Crobuzon and admitted to herself that they were not so different. At least here her isolation had a reason; it was a fuel that she burned.

Carrianne had demanded detailed descriptions of the anophelii island, and the weather, and the behavior of the mosquito-people themselves. There was melancholy in her manner-however reconciled Carrianne was to her life aboard, it had been many years since she had set foot on solid land, and Bellis’ stories could only make her feel nostalgia.

Bellis had found the recent trip hard to talk about. She remembered it as if at a great distance, as a monotony of frightened boredom interspersed with grander emotions. There were some things, of course, that she could not discuss. She was deliberately vague about the anophelii, about the Samheri pirates, and most of all about Kruach Aum.

After the altercation she had witnessed between the Brucolac and Uther Doul, Bellis had become fascinated by Dry Fall’s ruler. Carrianne told her what she wanted to know, about the political structure of the riding, the cadre of vampir lieutenants under the Brucolac, and the riding’s goretax.

"That’s when you usually get to meet him," Carrianne said. She tried to be matter-of-fact, but Bellis could hear the awe in her voice. "Not always-often it’s taken by some lieutenant-but sometimes. They cut you, here or here or here." She indicated her thigh and breast and wrist. "They paint it with an anticoagulant, and vacuum it into a belljar."

"How much do they take?" said Bellis, aghast.

"Two pints. The Brucolac is the only one who drinks his fill. The rest of the cadre are restricted-they dilute it. The more they drink, the stronger they grow-that’s the word. And even though the Brucolac chooses his lieutenants carefully, it’s possible that one or other might get power-hungry.

"If they took it traditionally, straight from the vein, they might not be able to control themselves-and they don’t want to kill. And even if they did break away, there’s the contagion. In the spit. So everyone they drink directly from and leave alive, they risk turning into a competitor."

Bellis left Carrianne at the borders of Dry Fall-"I could not possibly be safer than here," Carrianne said, smiling-and walked home.

She could have taken a cab; the winds were not strong, and she heard shouts from above as the aeronauts touted for custom. Two days previously, when her day’s work with Aum was finished, she had been wordlessly handed a packet of flags and finials that represented a good deal more than her weekly wage at the library.