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Azure before him, picked his way easily ahead of her with the confidence of a native-born.
    ‘It’s possible,’ Esteban ventured, after clearing his throat and receiving a nod from the-Lady, ‘that Prospero might still show up on the radar. I could make further enquiries.’
    ‘That would be helpful.’ Kay’s frustration subsided into calculation. It would be possible to leave Candida. No, it would not be possible. Retreat would be a sign of weakness and the disappointing capstone of her career. She’d never return, and Prospero would be taken from her.
    She had not been seated. She sank onto the chair, supplication, and looked to the-Lady.
    ‘What are your terms?’ she asked.
    ‘You have to work,’ was the simple reply.
    ‘Work.’ She hummed.
    ‘In the house. You would be paid in cash – enough for your material needs – and in trust. We also provide food and lodging, and I expect you might end up in the kitchen and the refectory from time to time.’
    ‘I could do with a permanent assistant,’ Luis rumbled, the first time she had heard him speak, and he sounded tempered and mellow, as Father Christmas would, as Santa Claus.
    ‘No, not permanent, though I can see her working here as-and-when. Kay, I think, should experience a spectrum of activities.’
    ‘What work do you have in mind? I’m good at Maths. Maths and Stats.’
    ‘Not useful.’
    ‘What’s your line of business?’
    Flower-of-the-Lady slipped off the desk and strode around Kay’s chair, a brusque inspection. She was shorter than Kay but seemed to loom.
    ‘You’re too old to be introduced to our Mystery, too old and not supple enough, not by half. You know your mind, Good-at-Maths-Girl, and you’d object.’
    She glided behind the chair. Kay expected a hand on her shoulder or the nape of her neck and flinched automatically, but Flower-of-the-Lady completed her pass without touching her and returned to her seat on the desk. ‘A house this size needs servants. We’ll try you at various tasks and maybe we’ll find something that suits you snugly.’
    ‘Menial work?’ she said. ‘Drudgery.’
    ‘You don’t like the idea?’
    ‘Obviously not.’ Kay found herself looking to Esteban, who squirmed out of his chair and paced to the nearest bookshelf, away from the intimidating women. Finding brief courage, he swung round, his jacket tails flapping dramatically, and Kay knew this was all she was going to get from him; a gesture, a dashing moment, nothing.
    ‘As an officer of the city,’ he wavered, ‘it’s my duty to find the right place for her.’ Bolder then, or at least less meek: ‘She’s my guest as much as yours.’
    ‘And can you think of a better place?’ the-Lady taunted. He couldn’t even be bothered to shake his head. ‘There we are then,’ she finished. ‘The simplest solution for us all.’
    The lowest common denominator.
    The-Lady took a cigarette from a case on the desk and lit it with the same deliberation she’d marked her paperwork. It was calculated, but also the closest thing to a foible she’d shown Kay. The smoke wafted across the library and tasted sweeter than tobacco, more like a cloud of drifting pollen.
    ‘Technically,’ Luis growled – his tone was genial and he didn’t move from his perch – ‘I shouldn’t let you do that in here.’
    The-Lady breathed out, a lungful of fine white smoke seething from her nostrils, curling from the edge of her mouth. The ridged skin on the back of her hands looked tougher than her smooth face and feet. She stubbed the cigarette out, casually. Her fingernails were curled points.
    ‘You don’t want to do this, do you Kay? I’ve been watching you. I see the way you move your eyes, like you’re looking for a concealed exit, a way out of this, but I’m afraid you are stuck. You can’t appeal to any greater power. This house is ancient. It’s the cornerstone of the city. Even Captain Esteban – and that reminds me, I have been hearing a great deal