"Alive and well," said Tallia, overcome by his raw emotion. "And everyone she meets, she asks for news of you. She has never given you up."

Suddenly Jevi flushed and let her go. "I'm sorry, I hope I didn't hurt you." He pulled the door of the shed closed and sat down on the bag. Peas rustled on the floor.

"Lilis!" he said again. "This is a dream, surely. Every day I was not there to take care of her was like a thorn dragged down my back. But I was helpless." He looked up through his fingers at Tallia. "I scoured Thurkad for her, the only time I got the chance, but it was like looking for a shell on the beach. I decided that she was dead, that she died soon after I was pressed. It was the only way I could survive." Then, with sudden hope-"She is here in Roros?"

Tallia was sorry to dash his expectations so cruelly. "Alas, Lilis is as far from Roros as it is possible to get. She is in Zile, in the care of Nadiril the librarian."

"She has mighty friends!" Jevander exclaimed in amazement.

"I took her there last winter," said Tallia. "Before that she lived in the alleys for seven years. She's had a hard life but I don't think she's been harmed by it."

"Lilis was the light of my life, after Grazie died," he said. Tears started in his eyes again. "This is worse than not knowing! If there was ever a way to get free I would have taken it. But bel Gorst is a very devil, and he made sure that there was no way. He is a spelltwister."

"Is he now?" breathed Tallia. "That is very interesting. So that's how he keeps you here, is it? Don't give up yet. My boat comes back after dark."

Jevander stroked the iron collar. "We're locked up at night, down in that slab shed beyond the storehouses. Nothing could keep me here now that I know Lilis is alive. Nothing, save this fetter around my neck! Each of us has one and it's set to kill if we try to get away. There's only one way I'll ever leave this island."

"As it happens I also know a little about spelltwisting, as you call it. Let me see." Drawing Jevander to her, she felt the collar, passing her fingers over the iron and the garnet. It was the cheapest of gems, with a flaw running right through it. Jevander flinched as her fingers touched the inflamed skin. "I won't harm you," she said. "I think I know a bit more about the Secret Art than bel Gorst does, if this is the best he can do."

"I've been too long already," said Jevander, looking hopeless. "Get away while you can." But he lingered, questioning her about Lilis, feeding on her replies like a man who had been starved for seven years. Then, hearing someone shouting not far away, he slipped out the door.

Tallia heaved up the forgotten sack for him and headed back to the mangroves. As soon as it was quite dark, not long in these latitudes, she made her way through the trees toward the boardwalk. There she encountered an insoluble snag. The guard was standing right at the only place where the trees hung over the boardwalk. Another pair of guards stood not far away, chatting. The time came and went for the rendezvous but she could do nothing about it. Any attack on the guards would alert the island. She slid back up into the foliage and waited.

Finally the pair of guards moved off and the single sentry strolled down after them. Tallia swung down onto the boardwalk and headed toward the jetty. It was hours after the rendezvous time, but Osseion might still be waiting. On the way she felt a sharp pang in her belly, though it went away again. A solitary lantern burned on the end of the jetty. She flashed the signal from the other side. There was no answer, and before she could move Tallia heard the footsteps of the guard. She ducked behind the rail, took hold of a post and hung over the side. It might be enough to hide her, in the dark and mist.

The sentry stopped some distance away to lean on the rail in the semi-darkness. He was chewing gatt, a potent mixture of tree resin, cloves and ginger. Tallia could smell the spices from where she hung.

The guard did not move. If he strolled over to her side of the jetty the mist would not hide her. Her arms were aching and she was uncomfortably aware of creatures stirring, not far below her feet. Suddenly the stomach ache returned, a fierce pain.

She tried the least whisper of a suggestion, to see if she could make the guard move away. It was a chancy method; many people were immune to such things. Go down the wharf, she sent.

The guard literally sprang in the air, his head darting from side to side. He must have a latent talent for the Secret Art. She tried again, more subtly, and immediately felt a sharp pain behind her eyes. Strong latent talents-he was defending himself against her suggestion without even realizing it.

Tallia felt a sudden spasm of nausea and her bowels turned liquid. Those damned oysters! Her arms went weak; her sandal scraped on the side of the jetty. The sentry ran three steps down toward the boardwalk. In the gloom she could not see his expression, but she could feel the tension. Bel Gorst was notorious for unannounced inspections.

"Is that you, Klari?" the sentry asked.

Tallia could hardly think straight. She came out from under the rail just as he turned back.

"Hey!" snapped the guard, reaching for his cutlass.

She rushed him. Her foot slipped on a wet board and instead of knocking him down she merely struck him in the chest with her shoulder. The guard caught her by the hair then brought his upraised knee up hard into her belly. Tallia fell flat on her back, winded. The back of her head rang like a bell. The guard, well trained in dirty fighting, slammed his heel down at her throat. She had just strength enough to roll out of the way. She staggered to her feet, knowing that if she didn't finish it straight away he'd kill her.

The guard slashed at her with the cutlass. She ducked, caught his arm and, using his momentum, threw him over her shoulder as hard as she had ever thrown anyone. He crashed into the railing, which broke, and with a cry the man fell into the sea. Looking over, Tallia saw a phosphorescent swirl, a gurgle of bubbles and a brief thrashing that stopped abruptly. That was all.

The illness was horrible and getting worse. She hung over the side, vomiting and diarrhea going at once, then cleaned herself up and lay down on the deck. Precious time was running out. Any minute someone could come to relieve the guard, but she was unable to do anything about it.

Eventually a rain shower roused her. She looked up through a gap in the clouds to see that the scorpion nebula had wheeled round the sky. It was now very late, and she felt almost as bad as she had before. There was too much to do and too little time.

Tallia finally reached the prisoners' barracks. They were locked away for the night but only one guard stood on duty outside. This fellow was careless and, despite her condition, Tallia was an expert. Within a minute she had the door open.

Inside, she held up the guard's lantern. A hundred pressed sailors and slaves stirred under the light. Night visits from bel Gorst were very unwelcome.

"Jevander," she called softly. He appeared at once, fingering his collar. "We'll see what we can do about that," she said. "Should I offer anyone else their freedom?"

"I dare say," said Jevander. "I don't know them well. I keep to myself."

"I have a boat," Tallia said, loud enough that everyone could hear without it penetrating outside. "Anyone wants to come with me, come now."

Two or three stood up. The rest lay in sullen indifference, or fear. Tallia was not surprised-slavery dulled the spirit very quickly.

"Come down to the jetty: our boat will be here soon." She hoped so.

Outside, Tallia took a small copper spike out of her pocket, moistened it in her mouth and pressed the tip to the garnet set in the iron collar. She strained until she was shaking, reading the spell that controlled it, then with a tiny flash of green fire the mineral shattered and fell out of its setting.

"That hurt," she said, bending over to dry retch. "Is it ...?"

"I'm free," whispered Jevander, tearing off the collar and hurling it into the mangroves. He hugged her. "Free! Tallia, are you all right?"

"Not really," said Tallia, squinting. She had begun to see double. "Lucky there's only three of you."

"What's that?" hissed Jevi. From not far away there were cries, thumps, cracks and the sounds of breaking timber.

"I've no idea," she said limply.

By the time Tallia had freed the other two she was as weak as a kitten. It was almost dawn; already the eastern sky was pink. The light revealed a horrible sight-bloody-snouted chacalot everywhere, fighting over scraps of meat and bone. One huge old fellow had a man in his jaws and was swinging him back and forth. The man screamed; then something snapped audibly, he sagged and the reptile dragged him off.

"Did you do this?" Jevi asked, amazed.

"It seems my friends have been a little ... too efficient," Tallia whispered. "Oh, my head!"

Jevi kept his. "Did you find your man?"

"No!" she groaned. "I don't know where he is."

"I kept my eyes open while you were gone. He's in the cells of the big house, down below. Stay here; I'll find him," he hissed in her ear.

"We'll go together. If Pender's hurt, it'll take both of us to carry him."

Tallia staggered across the lawn, hanging on Jevi's shoulder. One of the magnificent doors had been ripped off its hinges, while the foyer of the house was a bloody ruin-a chaise smashed to wickerwork and splinters, palms and orchids ground into the parquetry, pots smashed. And everywhere, blood and hair and bits of clothing. Literally everywhere-there was blood halfway up the walls, a sock hanging from a chandelier.

"Where?" cried Tallia.

"Down the stairs!"

A red snout appeared out of a room running off to their left. Evidently a library, for a leaf from a book was gummed to the creature's head just behind the eyes.

They ran together. Tallia slipped and sent them both down the steps in a tangle of arms and legs. Jevi threw his arms around Tallia to protect her. They came to rest at the bottom of the steps, with him underneath. Tallia clung to him for a fraction longer than was necessary.

They found the lower levels deserted. The guards had fled. The prisoners clung to their bars, silently staring, and not one of them asked to be let out. The sounds and the rumor from upstairs had carried down all too well.

Pender was in the last cell, a sad, unkempt, red-eyed ruin. Like a punctured bladder his rotund corpulence had turned to limp flab. Tallia had no idea where to find the keys, and no longer had the power to burst the lock, but Jevi soon came running back with a crowbar, with which he levered the bars of Pender's cell apart. They dragged the fat man through.

Pender didn't seem to recognize her. Getting out was no easier than in, for they found two chacalots fighting over a grisly relic in the foyer. Jevi helped Tallia and Pender out a side window and down the wall in a heap on the grass. Pender stared around him as if he had arrived prematurely in the underworld.

"Pender!" Tallia cried, shaking him by the shoulders. "Pender, get up! We can't carry you."

Standing up, he hung against the vine-covered wall, panting like a marathon runner.

"Pender! Look! It's Jevi, Lilis's father."

That shocked him back to his senses. Pender stared at Jevi and then a smile of purest joy broke across his fat face. He held out a sweaty hand. "Lilis is my very dear friend," Pender said. "She saved me from the sea. I've been looking for you for half a year."

Tears welled in Jevi's eyes; he took the fat man in his arms and they wept together. Tallia was moved to tears herself, but she did not allow them time to fall. "We must get going."

The grassy lawn was like a minefield. The shed roofs were covered in refugees, including a dark-skinned girl with hair plaited into handles. Twillim waved at Pender, apparently unfazed, but he did not notice. Tallia wavered down toward the small jetty, then stopped. It was swarming with chacalots, tearing at the remains of the offal and at each other.

"Osseion!" cried Tallia. "You bloody idiot, what have you done?"

"We'll never get down that," said Jevander.

"The main jetty?" said Pender.

"Rustible won't know to look for us there," said Tallia. "Besides, that's where Poniard is."

"There's no choice!"

Chacalots were still swarming out of the water. Soon there would be no safety but the roofs. They ran across the lawn, a deadly obstacle course. Tallia was beginning to feel really ill-aftersickness on top of oysters. At the same time a small band of people broke free from the back of the house, racing toward the main jetty where Poniard was moored. Most got through, including bel Gorst, not so menacing in a silk nightshirt with skinny legs sticking out the bottom.

Their boots clattered down the boardwalk, but one poor fellow fell through a rotten board and hung there, caught by the chest with his legs dangling down into the mangrove swamp. He screamed to his mates to help him out. They kept running. A chacalot a good five spans long stood up on its tail, snapping its jaws on the man's legs. Though he struggled, it was futile-the reptile pulled him straight through the gap between the boards.

Tallia doubled over, retching on the lawn.

"What are we going to do?" cried Pender.

"Keep going. There's nowhere else to go."

A horde came after them, cutting off any retreat. Twice a chacalot almost had Tallia before she fell onto the boardwalk. The trees had been cut back from this jetty; no chance of climbing up into them. It was foggy. The Waif was not in sight. She made a sudden decision.

"Let's try to take Poniard!"

They crashed down the jetty but were spotted at once. The pirates must have thought that the slaves were free for they panicked, the sails were sheeted home and a sudden gust filled them. The boat slid away from the wharf, gathering speed in the breeze.

Behind Tallia one of the slaves cried out. The chacalots had followed them. Tallia tried to work a desperate illusion to stop Poniard from getting away. Too weak!

A shadowy vessel appeared though the mist, dead ahead. Reacting instinctively, Poniard's helmsman spun the wheel, snapped orders, the sailors hauled the lines.

"It's an illusion, you fool," cried bel Gorst, lashing the helmsman with his whip. His dark face was a caricature of terror-eyes like black pits, mouth as round as the hole of a privy. His efforts were too late; the boat curved around and ran back full tilt.

Tallia watched Poniard plunge toward them; she was powerless to move. It ran straight into the jetty, shearing a section of the decking right off and hurling all but Pender, who was well behind, into the water. Tallia landed flat on her back in the shallow water on the other side. A dozen chacalots slid off the mudbank. Poniard, sadly crushed about the bows, was pushed off and limped out into the bay. The phantom boat was gone-Tallia wasn't sure whether it had been her illusion or not.

Tallia thrashed through sticky mud toward the fallen deck. One end was embedded in the mire while the other stuck up in the air, resting precariously against one of the jetty piles. The chacalot swerved toward her. A pathetic cry signaled the end of one of the slaves. Tallia was braver than most, but seeing such a death staring her in the face she was hard pressed not to scream. Pender hung above her, caught by the back of his jacket. Plump arms and legs thrashed uselessly.

"Keep still!" she screeched, momentarily diverted from her own troubles, "unless you want to end up down here."

"Tallia, here!" It was Jevander, clinging one-handed to one of the piles. "Onto the deck."

Her eyes followed his pointing arm and she realized that the fallen deck made a ramp that extended under the water. She flailed toward it, feeling like a turtle pursued by a leopard. Something caught at her boot. She gasped, but it was just a twisted mangrove root.

Jevander sprang down the ramp, stretching out his arm, but she could not quite reach it. Over her shoulder Tallia saw the leading chacalot, a big one. She was not going to make it! The beast lunged.

Her boots struck something solid-the deck! She clawed herself up it, gasping, slipping, skidding. The chacalot was close enough to have her, and Jevander too. Its jaws snapped on her boot. The reptile tossed its head, tearing boot and sock right off. Tallia felt a terrible pain in her ankle. She tried to clamber up the boards but her ankle would not support her. The chacalot lunged again.

Jevander wrenched off a loose plank, slipped on the greasy boards then fell toward the beast. Tallia screamed, but he found his balance and rammed the board into the creature's maw, trying to force it down the throat. The chacalot bellowed, snapped its jaws and sheared the plank in two.

Tallia's outstretched hand touched Jevander's callused hand. They clasped and, showing astonishing strength for a small man, he jerked her up out of the water so hard that it almost dislocated her shoulder. The chacalot's jaws slammed shut just where she had been, tearing a chunk out of a pile and breaking teeth on the iron reinforcing bands. It rolled back into the water, then prepared to lunge again. Tallia thumped into Jevander, almost knocking him down to where grinning jaws waited on the other side.

"Up!" he shouted, springing onto the undamaged part of the jetty and hauling a shocked Tallia up after him, one bare foot bloody and dangling.

"Where the hell's Osseion?" she gasped as a brace of chacalot advanced down the jetty toward them. They were defenseless; her illusions would not work on these creatures. Pender was precariously suspended from the pile, only the collar of his coat holding him up. The chacalot clustered underneath, waiting.

Jevi lifted Tallia onto the top of a pile and climbed up after. She leaned on his shoulder, almost fainting from the pain in her ankle. He put his arms around her again. It felt wonderful. All around them the creatures snapped. The remaining slave squatted on the top of his pile like a gargoyle. The fog thickened.

"Hoy! Hoy!" someone shouted from the water, a hollow cry twisted by the fog.

"It's bel Gorst!" cried Jevi, shaking with emotion. "I'll not be taken by him again. I'll go down among the chacalot first."

Tallia took his hand. "Don't do anything rash. Think of Lilis."

Timbers creaked in the fog. "It's The Waif!" Pender yelled. "I know it. Hoy, Osseion, over here. Hoy! Hoy!"

"Hoy!" came the cry again, from the fog. The chacalots snapped their jaws, in time.

"Over here!"

A few seconds later, the most glorious sight of their lives, The Waif drifted up to the wharf, handled by Rustible as lightly as thistledown on the breeze. A rather shame-faced Osseion plucked Tallia to safety over the rail. The slave sprang off his post onto the deck. Jevander leapt in. They cut Pender down and headed back to the wharves of Roros.

"Damn fine plan that was, Osseion!" she said, shaking. "You might have given me some warning! I was that close to being in the belly of a chacalot." She measured a tiny space between finger and thumb.

"It was worth it though," said Pender. "Look who we've found."

Osseion stared at the small man; then, overcome with emotion, he embraced him. Jevander sat down, shaking his head, tears running down his face.

"Pity about Poniard getting away," Tallia said through clenched teeth.

Rustible pointed through the fog. "The villain didn't get far. I thought we had him the first time."

"So that was you?" said Tallia. "I didn't think my illusion had worked."