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basin and pushed the first-floor window so far open that the rusty hinges groaned in protest. He looked up and down the fondamenta. There was no-one about. But further up, towards the cross street, there were people milling and calling. Pillar gazed at the lilac sky, noting with concern the low band of thick grey clouds gathering on the horizon. A spidery vein of white shot out of the cloudbank and struck the mountain tops. He reached for his hat and cloak.
    'How long has he been gone?'
    'A while.'
    Pillar grimaced. 'Where did you send him?'
    Quinn looked at him. 'Why are you asking me all these questions? Someone needs to maintain the workshop and I need to look after the customers. We can't let him make any more candles, so I put him to use. He's got to earn his keep somehow.' She eyed Pillar caustically. 'We had all of four people through the door today. They're complaining that our standards have dropped – that if they don't improve soon, they'll start buying elsewhere.'
    'But what if someone sees him?' Pillar stopped, cursing himself for going so far.
    'What?' sneered Quinn. 'You want to go and do the shopping, do you? You're still not fit to be seen. Not after what he did to you.'
    Self-consciously, Pillar ran a hand over his face. While he didn't look as bad as he had the night Tallow touched him in the attic, the night he felt his soul flayed open for the world to see, he still bore the physical scars of the encounter: the additional lines, the pinched cheeks and eyes.
    Stubbornly, Pillar persisted. 'Where did you send him?' he repeated.
    'Oh, where do you think?' Quinn snapped.
    'I don't know, Mamma. Where?'
    'To Vincenzo di Torello's.'
    'You sent him to the taverna?' Pillar's heart seized.
    'That's right, for some more vino.'
    'Mamma! But there are so many people there. What if one of them notices?'
    'Relax, Pillar. If Tallow understands anything, it's that he can't stand around idly chatting or put himself in a position where he's remarked upon. You've been to the taverna with him before. He knows what to do, what to say. Anyway, he'll be back in a moment. Sit down and enjoy an ombretta with me. There's still some left.' She picked up the flagon and tipped the dregs into her mug.
    Pillar shook his head. Something was pricking at the edges of his conscience. 'I'm going to find him, bring him back,' he said between clenched teeth.
    Quinn put her hands on her hips and shook her head. 'You won't always be able to protect him, you know. He's almost an adult – he's going to have to learn to look after himself, no matter what he is.'
    Because of what he is, thought Pillar, refusing to meet her eyes. 'I'm going,' he repeated.
    'Don't forget my vino,' reminded his mother and began kneading some dough.
    Pillar went down the stairs and back through the shop. He tried not to see the gaps on the shelves where he'd removed Tallow's candles.
    Donning his cloak, Pillar stepped on to the fondamenta and closed the door. A sharp wind whipped his cloak and nearly blew his cap from his head. Glancing above the houses on the other side of the canal, Pillar observed the clouds were darker now and coming closer. A low rumble signalled a storm was not far behind.
    Holding his cap and clutching his cloak, he set off towards the taverna.
    He'd only gone a few steps when a small body came tearing around the corner and crashed into him.
    'Tallow!' cried Pillar, recognising the hat and coat. He pulled him away and held him by the shoulders. 'What is it? Why are you running?'
    'Pillar!' Tallow sounded relieved. 'There were soldiers.' He swallowed hard. 'They're after me. I've got to hide!'
    'Soldiers?' Cold crept over his body. 'What are you talking –?'
    'There's been a kidnapping – it's the Doge's grandson, the prince. But that's not all. There was a stranger at the taverna.' Beads of sweat trickled down Tallow's temple as he panted the rest of his tale. 'She kept staring at me and then she started asking questions about a missing girl.