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No. I am here for Tynisa, to save her . . . Each day Che had to remind herself of that, at least once. Her concern for her foster-sister was steadily being eclipsed by her dreams, and by something else, too: this new world she was a native of concealed a wellspring of power, a power able to change the world in ways that the Apt could never conceive. If she learned just a little more, surely she could reach out and take a little of that power for herself? And then what might she not do? Even if it had fallen into decay, surely magic could still accomplish anything.

Tynisa, she reminded herself. Just think of Tynisa.

But her dreams were all of the Empress and her kindred quest to understand the ancient powers. However far Che travelled, Tynisa seemed ever more distant.

Sixteen

Praeda awoke because of someone shaking her. For the briefest of moments she was unsure where she was, but the very air said Khanaphes even before her eyes had opened to the ancient city’s distinctive architecture.

Or to see Amnon, already clad in his battered, piecemeal armour of dark, fluted metal, with a snapbow over his shoulder and his sword ready at his belt.

‘What’s happening?’ she demanded.

‘Trouble,’ he told her. ‘We have to move.’

‘Trouble?’

‘The Wasps have gone mad,’ he said shortly, thrusting the snapbow at her and slinging a pack about his shoulders.

She dressed hurriedly. The snapbow felt strange in her grip, like handling a dangerous animal. Of course she knew the principles of its air battery – could have given a lecture and drawn diagrams if needed – but she had never used one before.

Amnon had reverted to his roots, though: he was always best with a sword. It therefore seemed that she would have to uphold the honour of the Apt, in whatever engagement he had now dragged them into.

‘Amnon, what have you done?’

‘I? Nothing. There are Wasp soldiers out on the streets. They say the Ministers are arrested. They say all foreigners are being arrested, too. The Marsh Alcaia is being raided and the ships in dock searched.’

‘Searched for what?’ Praeda demanded, dressed and ready in less time than she would ever have thought possible.

‘They say the Empress is missing,’ he spat.

The Empress? ‘Amnon, you didn’t . . .?’

‘No, I did not,’ he said, frowning. ‘But they will arrest us, if they catch us. Then they will discover you are a Lowlander, and they will kill you. We must leave.’

‘How do you know all of this?’

‘One of the Royal Guard remembered me fondly enough to bring me the news,’ he explained, and then the two of them were out of the room and down the stairs.

Two dead Wasps lay at the foot of the steps. One of them had been struck so hard in the chest that the plates of his armour were split apart.

‘You said you’d done nothing,’ Praeda snapped.

‘Nothing much,’ Amnon replied, slightly shamefacedly. ‘I did not think it was the time for details. Nor is this.’

Well, he’s right there. ‘Where are we supposed to go? You have a plan?’

‘Out of the city,’ he told her. ‘If the Marsh Alcaia is already taken then I know of no place to hide for certain. But in the marshes themselves the Wasps shall not find us.’

‘And your marsh-people, the Mantis-kinden?’

‘I do not know.’ He grimaced. ‘I do not see any other choice than to risk the desert itself, and their winged soldiers would see us far easier on the sands than in the marsh.’

She shrugged, arranging her cloak so that the snapbow was well hidden beneath it. ‘I can’t fault your logic. Let’s go.’

Had Amnon not known the streets of his own city so well, they might have fallen foul of the Wasp-kinden much sooner. His role as First Soldier had been more than a purely military one, however, and he had often gone out into Khanaphes to enforce the city’s laws against those who would disregard them. He had, he claimed, brought light into the shadows, which meant that he knew the shadows better than any.

The Imperial soldiers were out in force. Small groups of them hurried through the streets