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‘Crux,’ he cried, falling to one knee, pounding his chest. ‘Villa Cabuto ...’

‘What is it?’ said Djeserit.

‘It is gone.’ He stayed staring out into the hot daylight as if he could not believe it.

Djeserit began to cry in carking sobs. The korm crouched closer to her, making sympathetic noises. Djeserit fondled its crest with her trembling fingers.

Trin turned on them. ‘Stop it,’ he said harshly. ‘Stop now.’ He paced a little. ‘We must go to the Carabinere.’

Djeserit’s face twisted in fear. ‘What will they do?’

‘They have transport. They can evacuate us.’

Mira watched Trin pull Djeserit to her feet and draw her aside. ‘We should leave them. They will slow us,’ he whispered.

‘Why would we?’ Djeserit asked.

Trin hesitated. ‘I can... I wish to help you.’

Mira felt only detached curiosity as she waited for Djeserit to reply. What would the ragazza say? And why would Trin make such an offer—a ginko above familia?

But Djeserit did not answer. ‘The ‘bino needs fluid,’ she said. She disappeared into the TerV-way’s washroom and came back with a wet cloth that she had torn from her robe. With it she dribbled water into the ‘bino’s mouth. It suckled at the material hungrily and choked a little. She repeated her action, returning to the washroom several times to rewet the cloth.

When the ‘bino was sated the korm began chittering loudly then left the TerV-way.

‘Where is it going?’ Trin demanded.

‘There is a market nearby. She will try to get food for us.’

The idea of waiting agitated Trin but he seemed loath to leave Djeserit. ‘As soon as the sun has set we must go. Things may get worse.’

The korm returned with a tube of lig honey and packets of latte. She told Djeserit the market had been ransacked by ‘esques and that they had thrown rocks at her.

The ‘bino sucked the latte in choking gulps and then vomited.

Djeserit squeezed honey into Mira’s mouth, then pressed her lips closed and massaged her neck. The honey stung the back of Mira’s dry throat and she swallowed reflexively. It lessened her feeling of numbness and she began to tremble violently.

‘We should leave here soon,’ said Trin again.

Stiff words escaped Mira’s lips. ‘Si, you should.’

‘Baronessa,’ cried Djeserit with relief.

The korm trumpeted but Mira’s attention stayed fixed on Trin Pellegrini. ‘You may leave us now. I will watch out for them.’

Trin crossed his arms in a stubborn gesture characteristic of his papa. His manner, which Mira had always thought regal, now seemed intolerably arrogant. She wanted to strike him but she could not lift her arm. Her shoulder ached as though it was broken and her belly ached nearly as much, from hunger and shock and misery. The cuts and grazes on her legs and face seemed worse than either Djeserit’s or the korm’s. ‘Please go.’

Djeserit tugged her shoulder. ‘No, Mira,’ she begged.

Mira winced in pain, her head spinning a little. ‘He has no honour. All he knows is how to take.’

Trin gave a brittle laugh. ‘And just who is the misfit? The Principe’s son,’ he thumped his breast, ‘or the eccentric Baronessa Fedor?’

They glared at each other until Trin looked away. ‘This is not the time for dispute,’ he said.

Mira nodded, wondering at her own anger and the false courage it lent her. ‘What is happening to the city?’

‘There was a fire yesterday at the grain silos. Perhaps it was not the accident the Carabinere thought it was.’

‘A deliberate fire?’ said Mira.

Trin shrugged. ‘Who would wish that? Everyone on Araldis—even the ginkos—understand how quickly our oxygen-rich atmosphere and dry winds can spread flames.’

Mira’s stomach contracted into a hard, tight lump. ‘Then obviously that was their intention. To create chaos; to destroy.’

‘Baronessa, we must stay with Don Pellegrini. He can protect us,’ interrupted Djeserit.

Mira’s moment of complicity passed. ‘Protect you? A moment ago he was ready to abandon a tiny ‘bino and yet you would trust him.’

‘All I wish is to travel quickly,’ Trin objected. ‘I would have sent Carabinere for you.’

‘Liar!’ exclaimed