In spite of that, when the gag was removed, the sorcerer Rience tried to play the hero.

‘Well, well, Skellen! You’ve caught me, you win! Congratulations. A deep bow to your technique, expertise and professionalism. Splendidly trained operatives; truly, it’s enviable. And now please release me from this unseemly position.’

Tawny Owl drew up a chair and straddled it, resting his clasped fingers and chin on the backrest. He looked down at the captive. And said nothing.

‘Have me released, Skellen,’ Rience repeated. ‘And then order your subordinates to leave. What I have to say is meant for your ears only.’

‘Mr Brigden,’ Tawny Owl said, without turning his head. ‘What colour are the irons?’

‘A bit longer, sir.’

‘Miss Selborne?’

‘I’m having difficulty reading him now,’ Kenna shrugged. ‘He’s too afraid, the fear’s drowning out all other thoughts. And there are lots of those thoughts. Including a few he’s trying to hide. Behind magical screens. But it’s not hard, I can—’

‘That won’t be necessary. We’ll try the classic method: a red-hot iron.’

‘Bloody hell!’ the spy howled. ‘Skellen! You surely don’t mean—’

Tawny Owl leaned over, his face a little changed.

‘First, it’s Mister Skellen,’ he hissed. ‘Second, yes, absolutely, I plan to order your soles scorched, Rience. I shall do it with the utmost satisfaction. For I shall treat it as an expression of historical justice. I’ll wager you don’t understand.’

Rience remained silent, so Skellen continued.

‘You see, Rience, I advised Vattier de Rideaux to scorch your heels back then, seven years ago, when you were fawning to the imperial intelligence service like a cur, begging for mercy and the privilege to be a traitor and a double agent. I repeated that advice four years ago, when you shamelessly kissed Emhyr’s arse, mediating in contacts with Vilgefortz. When, during the hunt for the Cintran wench, you were promoted from a humble little turncoat to being virtually first resident spy. I wagered Vattier that when burned you’d say who you serve… No, I’ve got that wrong. That you’d name everyone you serve. And everyone you betray. And then, I said, you’ll see, you’ll be astonished, Vattier, how many points on the two lists correspond. But, well, Vattier de Rideaux didn’t listen to me. And now surely regrets it. But nothing’s lost. I’ll only toast you a little, and when I know what I want to know, I shall leave you to Vattier’s disposal. And he’ll flay you, slowly, one piece at a time.’

Tawny Owl removed a handkerchief and a vial of perfume from his pocket. He sprinkled the perfume liberally on the handkerchief and pressed it to his nose. The perfume smelled pleasant, but nonetheless Kenna felt like vomiting.

‘The iron, Mr Brigden.’