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There was something about her, Pillar. I didn't stay. I ran. The soldiers ran after me. Perhaps they think I know something about the prince.'
    Pillar's throat grew tight and a chill ran down his spine. What if the soldiers followed Tallow? Worse, what if they found him, found out what he was? Discovered you've kept an Estrattore hidden for almost fifteen years. And what about this woman? Coincidence, or more? Whichever it was, he'd just have to make sure that Tallow wasn't found. He began to hurry Tallow back towards the workshop.
    'I'm so sorry, Pillar. I really am,' said Tallow, glancing over his shoulder, tripping over the cobblestones. 'You always tell me not to talk to anyone. And I didn't – honest! I just panicked. First the soldiers and then the woman ... I know I shouldn't have run, but I didn't know what else to do. Now they think I know something –' The words tumbled from Tallow's mouth.
    'It's all right, Tallow.' Pillar's heart was in his throat. 'Come, we've got to hide you.'
    Tallow rushed ahead, his hat askew, his coat falling from one shoulder. 'I led them all around the sestiere, Pillar. I knew not to come straight back here.'
    Pillar nodded but he was barely listening as he tried to keep up with the boy. What was his mother going to say? Soldiers on the doorstep, the chance of discovery; then arrest, torture and most certainly death.
    'Did you hear me, Pillar?' gasped Tallow. 'I said I made sure I didn't come straight home.'
    'Good boy,' said Pillar. His mind raced. He wrenched open the door to the workshop. 'Quick, climb in the tallow vat and don't come out till I tell you it's safe. I'll go and make sure they don't find anything that will –' he glanced at Tallow's red face streaked with perspiration, his unholy silver eyes '– give you away.' He gulped. 'And I'll warn Mamma. Go on! Get inside.'
    Tallow paused, hands clutching the door frame. 'I'm sorry, Pillar.'
    Pillar didn't seem to hear. His eyes travelled down the fondamenta, his mind on more urgent matters. 'Quickly now, not a sound.' With a heavy heart he locked the external door of the workshop and all but ran back into the shop. Swiftly, he cast his eyes around. Thank God he'd destroyed all Tallow's candles. If there was just one piece of wax left ... He had to get to the attic and check Tallow's belongings – they all reeked of his presence. He had to hide what he could. After all, they might know he had an apprentice; hopefully, they'd never discover exactly what else his apprentice was.
    Running up the stairs, he steeled himself for his mother's tirade. Only this time, he knew he had to let her speak, let her rant and accuse and threaten. He couldn't help Tallow this time. No words or platitudes would stop the soldiers or the possibility of detection.
    This time, he feared, things had gone too far.

C HAPTER F IVE
What happened in the
workshop
    I CROUCHED IN THE STINKING vat, my chin just resting on the surface of the tallow. The rest of my body was totally submerged. Even though I'd heard the story of how I'd been placed in an empty vat all those years ago to hide from the soldiers searching for a baby brought illegally into the city, and so earned my appellation, nothing prepared me for the sensation of being swallowed by my namesake.
    I heard raised voices in the kitchen above and then silence. Poor Pillar. My heart quickened at the thought of what Quinn would do to me once the danger had passed. That is, if it did.
    What would happen if the soldiers found me? While I had absolutely nothing to do with the disappearance of the Doge's grandson, Pillar and Quinn's other, barely articulated reservations about me began to play on my mind. They'd known all along that I was different, that I belonged in another place, another time. They'd worked hard to erase those differences, render them – and me – invisible. For the first time, I wondered why they kept me. Why would humble candlemakers risk their lives not just to shield me as best