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She’s our enemy.’
    ‘She’s my blood, boy,’ the old man said, and let that sink in.
    Piraeus’s look of
bafflement slowly decayed into horror. ‘But she—’
    ‘What, boy? You’ve a
problem with me? Want to call me out, I’ll wager?’
    ‘I don’t even know who
you are.’
    ‘I am Tisamon, and I
earned this badge and this claw, and she is of my blood. You should keep that
in mind before you say anything else.’
    The name bit into the
youth’s memory, Tisamon saw. Piraeus had heard of him, even it was just through
Collegium’s duelling circles. There had been a time when Tisamon, too, had
played with his skills just like this young man.
    ‘So it would be unwise
of you to take this further with Tynisa,’ he said. ‘Lick your wounds and learn
from them, but if you come after her with a real blade in your hands—’
    ‘You’ll be there,’ spat
Piraeus, disgusted.
    Tisamon smiled slightly.
‘I won’t need to be. She will.’
    ‘Why all the hurry?’ Che
complained. Almost as soon as she had left the Prowess Forum, hastening to
congratulate Tynisa, she had run into one of her uncle’s agents. The big Ant
called Balkus, who in Helleron had seemed just a part of that city’s gritty tapestry,
looked woefully out of place amidst the understated order of Collegium.
    ‘If you move quick, they
can’t follow you so easily,’ was all he said, so Che was forced to jog after
him.
    It was strange to be
back after seeing what she had seen. Collegium, with its peace, its petty
one-upmanship, its learning, all seemed like a mummer’s show where the
backcloth could be torn down at any moment to reveal the chaos behind. She knew
that Stenwold wanted to speak before the Assembly, who were currently snubbing
him, but he had not let his plans wait on them. He had not told her what they
were, either, or what role she might play in them. Instead he had closeted
himself away with Scuto, or else he had gone on rambling and random hikes about
the city with Balkus or Tisamon watching over him. It was probably all to
confuse their watchers but it served to confuse Che just as well.
    Was she herself under
surveillance? With the thought she began scanning the faces, but Collegium was
a diverse city and the native Beetle-kinden played host to people from all over
the Lowlands and beyond. Even here, making her rapid progress down the Haldrian
Way that led to the metal market, she could pick out every kinden that called
the Lowlands home, together with a mix of halfbreeds, and a few others that
might be other kinden entirely, from distant lands. Any one of them could be an
imperial agent, and she knew it was more likely to be some innocuous-looking
Beetle wood-seller than that Wasp-kinden man on the street corner perusing a bookseller’s
discounted stock.
    It was a strange
feeling, exciting and uneasy, to think that she could be important enough to be
watched.
    Balkus abruptly turned
into the shop beside the bookseller and, when she moved to follow him, he
signalled for her to continue on down the Haldrian. With no idea of where she
was going, she kept wandering, with less and less enthusiasm, through the
bustle until he caught up with her again.
    ‘Wanted to see if we
were being followed,’ he explained, his thoughts obviously on the same tracks
as hers.
    ‘And were we?’
    ‘No bloody idea,’ he
admitted. ‘I’m not so good at all the sneak stuff. A fighter, me.’
    And he was. She had seen
enough evidence of that. The voice of his nailbow, spitting its powder-charged
bolts with a sound like thunder, remained with her from the battle around the
great railway engine called the Pride .
    ‘Here,’ he said at last
and ducked into a little taverna that seemed mostly deserted. The owner, a
greying Beetle-kinden, nodded cheerily to him, and did not object when he
hurried Che into a back room. She had a brief glimpse of a Fly-kinden in a
broad-brimmed hat, sitting apparently asleep at one table, who was one of her
uncle’s