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The decision to move Haana's body to the crypts was not an easy one to make. Burial or incineration would attract attention, especially in so small a landhold as Cannersly. Sir Edric had deliberated over the options with Aldir and Noi. Isla was equally amazed as she was repulsed at how methodical the discussion went. As though Haana's remains were nothing more than leftover dinner they knew not what to do with. Feed it to the dogs? Leave it as compost for the gardens? Or have it over and done with and chuck it into the river?

In the end, Sir Edric acquiesced to an empty vault where they kept all the nameless corpses. His therapeut was an odd man of science who would jump at another body to cut open and examine. At that point, Isla had downed her jin and floated out of the conversation.

Now they were back in Sir Edric's cabinet. It was early in the morning and Isla had a splitting headache, but Sir Edric had summoned them to discuss the next matter. 'You and Noi are best to stay here for the time. Especially if what the silver-servant said was true.' Isla noticed by now that he refused to call Haana by name. 'I can have new papers made for the two of you. You will have to leave your lives behind. Settle elsewhere, under new names ...'

Disappear.

Noi sat some distance beside Sir Edric. Her hands were fidgeting on the table, but the stoic look on her face made it clear that she was privy to the plan – if not even responsible for it herself.

'If what the spy said is true then they are well aware of me and my role – and I'm sure you appreciate how it would be impossible for me to disappear and start afresh. They will be able to track you down through me, unless we sever all ties.'

'No.' Isla interrupted. Was it not enough that she could never see her parents again? Tam Mai? Now Aldir, too, would be taken from her? Noi cleared her throat, but Isla pressed on before her handmaid could start, 'I am grateful for your offer, but I'm tired of running. I've thought things over these past few days. I've decided to return to Surikhand.'

'You are being rash.' There was a tremor in Noi's voice, but Isla knew the handmaid would not let her anger mount in present company. 'You know nothing of Surikhand.'

'They have my sister. She's alive. Perhaps my parents, too. Who knows what they would do to her, especially once they discover Haana is dead? I have to get her.'

'And how are you thinking to achieve that?'

'I have to find who Haana was working for. She wasn't lying about Prijsti'—Sir Edric twitched at the mention of her name, but Isla continued mercilessly—'and she wasn't lying about her being in the royal grounds, either. Perhaps she will help me.'

'This is not a discussion. It is too dangerous.'

'Haana has a bondmate there, lest you forget,' said Aldir.

'But we can't be sure what it knows or what their bond was,' argued Isla. 'Even should her bondmate see and somehow recognise me, unless Haana has somehow taught it how to speak, there is no way it could expose me.'

They fell into silence; Sir Edric and Noi on the table across her, and Aldir by the window, perusing the card Isla had found.

'They'll find me if I stay. Eventually,' Isla continued when it was clear no one would speak. 'I don't fancy living the rest of my life with one eye constantly open. Who knows how many they will send next time ... how many they'd kill. Haana was right. The only way they'd stop is if I return to Surikhand.'

'That is where your plan is flawed,' said Sir Edric. 'They would not know you were returning home to know to stop sending silver-servants here.'

'I left before I was due to have my fourth blooding. I was a fourth-rank then, and an early-bloomer. They would have recorded me in their redlist for absconding. They'll know it the moment my name is registered aboard any ship bound for Surikhand.'

'You are on the Surikh redlist and you did not tell us? Then you realise the silver-servant came here to collect your bounty. Returning home would be signing your own death sentence.'

'Not returning would be signing my sister's!'

Sir Edric closed his eyes. Isla had never seen him so beleaguered. 'All this quarrel has my head spinning.'

Noi nodded vehemently. 'Imagine, sir, listening to this nonsense for days! Mine has not stopped aching since we journeyed here!'

'Speaking of ships,' said Aldir, steering the conversation away, for which Isla felt an immense gratitude. 'I've heard back from Captain Stirling. Apparently Tempestorm is a Surikh ambassadorial vessel. Only emissaries of the realms are admitted on board, or anyone with far too much coin to know how to spend it. The only exception are for holders of such a letter.' He waved the card in his hand. 'The vessel is currently docked at Ayresmoor; due to sail for the Eastern Isles in a fortnight. This letter here is a right of access. It will allow its bearer and his retinue passage aboard.'

'I don't need a retinue.'

'No, only us.'

'You can't seriously be considering joining me,' said Isla while in the background Noi wailed 'Fools! The both of you!'

'I have not seen my mother for fifteen years.' Aldir straightened. 'Now it comes to light that she is in Surikhand's royal palace.'

'You are much too conspicuous; an Eling man wandering into royal Surikh grounds?' ('—a half Eling man,' Aldir muttered under his breath.) 'Haana's master wouldn't even need her bondmate to tell him who we are. We'd be dead before sundown.'

'And I suppose your plan is to go alone?' Aldir retorted a little more sharply than usual, and soon they were all bickering; speaking over one another.

Above all the squabbling, Noi's voice finally rose, 'I forbid it! That is final!'

Sir Edric started before Isla could respond, 'Correct me if I am mistaken, Isla, but you are ... twenty years?'

Isla paused, frowning. 'One and twenty come spring, if you speak of my age, but I don't –'

'And five years pass the Age of Assent, according to Eling law.'

'We are Surikh, and from where we come, children are remaining under the control of their parents until they are wed,' said Noi.

'I don't see you wed, Noi,' Isla snapped. She instantly regretted it, but it was too late.

Sir Edric mediated with a raise of his hands. 'All that aside,' he said, 'we are in Elingar, and so must to Eling law adhere. And by our law, Isla has the right to choose her actions. This is, after all, a matter of her life at hand, and we shall respect her decision. So what do you wish to do?'

'I will go back to Surikhand.' Isla drew a deep breath, avoided Noi's pleading eyes. 'But I will need a plan.'

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Isla was no seamaiden, but even she recognised the magnificence that was Tempestorm. With its sails unfurled, the three-masted vessel looked especially majestic. From her angle, she could just make out its figurehead. The giant bird gleamed, its nine-pronged crown catching the last rays of light.

Isla sighed. The sun was setting, and the temperature with it. Unlike the merchant ships docked along the next two wharfs over, there was no line keeping her from boarding Tempestorm. The pier upon which the ambassadorial ship was berthed stood bare but for Isla's farewell party.

'It is not too late to change your mind,' said Noi.

Isla smiled sourly. She took the older woman in an embrace. When she pulled away, there was a significant wet patch on her coat that was not any fault of the weather's.

'Do you remember the plan?' Aldir's voice was heavy with regret, but he at least did not try to talk her out of it.

'Like my life depended on it.'

'You have your papers?'

'Every last one.'

'My mother's ring?'

'In my satchel.' Isla patted the pouch hanging by her waist. 'I will keep it safe for you.'

'You must not let anyone see that,' said Noi. 'Men are known to kill for much less.'

Sir Edric had generously contributed to what Noi referred to as Isla's 'little suicide mission', and so her pouch was filled with silver swans; most of which she had exchanged for the Surikh chrana. The coin was worth half of a single Eling crow, thus Isla's pouch had effectively tripled in weight. There was no doubt it would be as attractive as meat to the wolves.

Tempestorm was a reputable vessel, though. She should be reasonably safe throughout the voyage – and even if there were wolves aboard, surely they would be far more attracted to the rich nobles and prominent consuls?

A carriage pulled up along the wharf, breaking her train of thought. Aldir moved closer towards Isla as its passenger alighted. 'Just stay out of trouble and keep your head down.'

'You have done so much for me. All of you,' said Isla quietly. 'Please thank Sir Edric on my behalf.'

'He's making preparations, but you will have plenty time to thank him yourself, when next we meet.'

Isla nodded. It was her decision not to travel with them, after all. Sir Edric was a singular man. Even if Haana's master had never seen the former knight, there would be no mistaking him. Once on her way to Surikhand, Isla could no longer be associated with him or Aldir; not if they wanted their plan to succeed.

The dark-skinned woman from the carriage crossed the plank bridging the ship, an entourage carrying bags at her tail. A shipmate stood at the top of the gangway, checking her papers. Isla, with her one trunk and the satchel hanging by her hips, suddenly felt like the charlatan she was playing.

'It will be fine.' Aldir squeezed her shoulder.

Isla smiled despite herself. She was dressed for the part, at least. Sir Edric had purchased the dress she wore, along with a sleeveless cloak the colour of a pale sunset. Simple enough for her taste, and yet the most elegant piece of clothing she had ever owned.

'I have to go now,' she said. They gave their farewells, Noi coming in for a final embrace, and Isla made her way up the gangway. She gripped the rails as she walked; her vision had blurred, and it was nothing to do with the tears in her eyes.

'lsla Prijanskar.' The shipmate took her papers and read. He pronounced her name the Surikh way – ees-la, like a sibilant prayer; pree-anska, like a sharp command, glottal stop and all. It sounded strange, as though the name belonged to someone else, but it struck nicely in her ears. 'From the town of Arikit. Twenty years. Unblooded. Where is your pass?'

Isla dug out Haana's letter, passing it to the man. His eyes widened. She tried to read his face, but if he recognised her or her name, he made no sign of it.

After what felt like an excruciatingly long minute, he handed her back her papers, making way for her entry. Isla looked back at the pair on the wharf. She gave one last wave before disappearing on board.

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