‘We’ve learnt that in the Empire, identity means little, and status means everything,’ Tika said eventually. ‘If you’re a Pecha, you’re at the top, whether you gather shit or sell the finest obsidian. And if you’re anything else, you’re below, whether you gather shit or sell the finest obsidian. Any rational person can see how ridiculous that is, but another thing we’ve learnt is that the Pechaqueh aren’t rational. No matter how skilled or dedicated, it seems that a person’s blood places them in a hierarchy that ensures the Pechaqueh are on top. Which seems very convenient, doesn’t it?

‘You, though’ – Tika jabbed a finger in Ilandeh’s direction – ‘you’ve pretended to be a Xenti this whole time. Lived in Xentibec, undertaken the rituals of the Xentib at festival time. I can’t imagine a real Pecha doing that. But I also know – all Ixachipan knows – that Xentiban was only conquered four sun-years ago. So my question for you, Merchant Ilandeh, is this: did it only take you four sun-years to betray your people and your beliefs and all you hold dear; or did you actually lower yourself to pretend to be Xentib? Have you sullied your blood in order to spy on us? And will it ever be clean again?’

The ejab words were like rotten fruit in Ilandeh’s mouth, bitter and vile and rank with poison, and she spat a low snarl against their invasion.

Who she was, what she was, had nothing to do with this woman or this place or these uncivilised, god-killing, frog-licking heathens. She was moving, but so was Tika, and Ilandeh had a bare instant to regret not just stabbing the woman in the back of the neck when she had had the chance. But no, this would be better. Staring into the eyes of a god-killer as she killed her, as she made amends for all the deaths she’d been unable to prevent.

‘You have no idea who I am or what I’m capable of,’ Ilandeh growled as she bounced to her feet on the wall.

‘Then show me,’ Tika snarled in response, her short stabbing spear in her hands as she jumped off the wall and landed on the side closest to the city. ‘Fucking come on and show me.’

A knife against a spear was only ever going to go one way, so Ilandeh used the height of the wall to her advantage, drawing a viper-quick strike from Tika, even though the spirit-magic must have almost left her, making her tired and shaky.