Okay. I think this is my cue. “I’m Elke.” She held out a hand to the wild-haired man who started back as though she’d aimed a fist at him, then glared, clearly embarrassed at his own reaction.

  The girl gestured at herself. “Mir.” She didn’t take Elke’s extended hand.

  The neat young man stepped forward and offered his hand. “I am Pedr.” He had a firm handshake and amused hazel eyes. He jerked his head at the angry man. “That Gower.”

  Elke noticed that the dog didn’t react to Pedr’s approach at all. Good. She’s got good judgment.

  Pedr gestured towards the seated woman. “Beda, leader.” Beda inclined her head.

  The older veiled woman who’d spoken before, said, “I am Anwin. This is Loas and Britna.” She nodded towards the other veiled woman who, Elke now noticed for the first time, was holding a bundle that must be a baby.

  “You must forgive the silent ones,” said Anwin. “They do not speak your language.”

  “You speak it very well,” said Elke. Considering that I didn’t know you could speak at all. “But we need to get a move on and get this guy out of here before he has another attack.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Elke, surprised, saw that Justice was sitting a little straighter. He seemed half defiant, half nervous. “I’m staying right here.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” Elke pointed out. “You’re out of medication. I doubt there’s another lot in the first aid box.” She glanced at Mir, who shook her head emphatically. “It’s damp down here,” Elke continued. “Moulds. Dust. You’re going to have another attack and then you’ll die.”

  Justice, who’d been struggling to his feet, collapsed and sat on a crate. He seemed amazed to be contradicted. “But I—”

  Then Beda, the leader, spoke, cutting across Justice’s protest. He fell silent and listened to her sulkily. Gower interrupted angrily. Mir responded and it looked as though it was going to turn into a full-scale argument but Beda held up a hand for silence. She said a few clipped words and Gower turned away, shaking his head.

  Elke wished that she could understand what was going on but all she could do was watch for clues of body language and intonation.

  Beda turned to Justice and asked him something. He pursed his lips and gave a grudging answer.

  He glanced up at Elke. “They are forcing me to go with you. I promised that I would not reveal the location of their camp.” His gaze flicked to Gower and a curious glance passed between them. Liar. Now what did you agree to? But the lie, if it was one, seemed to soothe Gower and he stopped frowning quite so fiercely.

  “You must promise as well,” said Justice.

  “Sure,” said Elke, although it seemed odd to her. Why would they care if anyone knew they were living here? It didn’t seem enough of a secret for Gower to want to prevent Justice from leaving, if she’d interpreted the argument correctly.

  “Okay,” she said. “I swear I won’t tell anyone you guys are living here. It is your secret and not mine to share.” That seemed to be the right thing to say. Gower nodded and folded his arms. “But how will we explain your absence to your parents, Justice? You’re the geistlin that’s been missing all this time, aren’t you?”

  The boy pulled a face, but didn’t deny it. “I’ll work out some story.”

  ¤¤¤

  Getting Justice down the ladder was even more difficult than Elke had feared. He was too weak to climb by himself and it took the combined effort of herself, Mir and Pedr to lower him down.

  Pedr went back up the ladder but Mir stayed to help her get Justice at least part of the way back. Not to his home, though. In a last-ditch attempt to be allowed to stay, Justice had refused to tell them where he lived.

  “I don’t want to go home yet,” he’d grumbled. “I still don’t understand why I can’t stay. I’m not doing any harm.”

  “We’ll take him to Dolly,” Elke had said at last and Mir had nodded. “Not all way,” Mir had said. “I help upstairs to Short Storage.”

  So now the two of them made their way slowly along with Justice slumped between them. Meisje trotted ahead of them, stopping at every turn to see which way Elke wanted her to go. She didn’t need any hand signals and was able to read their body language without hesitation.

  Justice watched the dog with fascination. Elke was not sure whether he was too weak to walk or whether he was faking it to slow them down. The boy was fast becoming a significant irritation.

  “So what story will we tell your parents?” she asked.

  “Not ‘parents’,” said Justice. “Father.” He pondered for a bit, then brightened. “I’ll say I was looking for Jali’s lost treasure. He’ll believe that. It’s true too. That’s why I was down level in the first place. And there are some cans here that I could have fallen into. Maybe you heard me knocking and got me out. That will work.”

  Elke was not so sure but she simply couldn’t think of a better explanation for Justice’s absence and subsequent discovery. The whole situation worried her. It seemed that Justice had spent the entire time he’d been missing hanging around the weed camp for no apparent reason. Why would he do that?

  Gower had been fiercely opposed to the boy leaving, apparently worried that he’d reveal the whereabouts of their camp, but he’d accepted her promise to keep their secret without any hesitation. That also didn’t quite fit.

  Now Justice was shooting her sly looks, obviously working up to saying something. “So,” he said when they stopped for breather. “You’re a renter?”

  “What?” Elke frowned at him, rubbing at her shoulder that was still aching from carrying the boy down the ladder.

  “You’re with the Rent, aren’t you?” Justice touched his cheek and Elke realised he meant her tattoo.

  “No.”

  “Oh, come one.” Justice coughed. “I’m not stupid. Don’t worry, I think what you guys do is super cool.”

  “You ready for the last lap?” Elke asked Mir, who gave a nod. “Okay, let’s go then.” They drew his arms over their shoulders again. Justice was breathing a little harder again and she hadn’t liked the sound of that cough.

  “Hunting the hunters,” said Justice. “That’s so cool. And what were you doing down level at night? Were you hunting somebody in the Eye?”

  “You going to shut up or am I going to drop you?” Elke took a firmer grip of his arm. Up ahead of them Meisje turned checking their progress.

  “You’ve been feeding her, haven’t you?” she asked Mir as they stopped at the foot of the stairs. “The dog.”

  Mir did not respond. Her face was hidden behind her scarf again.

  Elke tried again. “Has she been living up there with you?”

  No answer.

  They started up the stairs. Justice hung heavily between them. Elke felt sorry for the boy, but it was frustrating to have to spend time and attention on him when what she wanted to do was look at Meisje. So far the dog has stayed with them, but there was nothing preventing her from disappearing into the maze of corridors again.

  Short Storage was almost deserted. Elke heard voices in the distance and the familiar bounce and shimmy of the dexter music, and wondered how much further Mir would help her. The girl was obviously not keen to be up here in the open and might have her own reasons to avoid meeting Dolly.

  Distracted by these thoughts, it took Elke several seconds to realise the significance of what she heard. The dexter music. Her heart bumped in her chest. Shit. Shit. Shit. A quick command brought up the retina display, the dog’s tracking data flickering in silver letters, the dog herself clearly visible.

  How long? I’ve been looking at the bloody dog—how long have I been recording and broadcasting—

  Herr Kroll will know. If not by now, by morning.

  Her horrified thoughts were interrupted by a touch on her arm. “I go,” said Mir. “You okay now?”

  Elke nodded, still speechless. Then she swallowed and managed, “Yes. Thanks for your help.”

  If they have a kill switch and they see the dog now and if they're within range—

  Glancing away from Meisje, Elke clicked her fingers. The temptation to check whether the dog noticed was strong but she kept her eyes fixed on the floor. She gave another signal, careful to keep her hands out of her peripheral vision. That one. She pointed at Mir. Stay with that one.

  Then, hitching Justice’s arm about her shoulders, Elke set off toward Dolly’s office, keeping her eyes on her feet. The urge to look back and check whether the dog obeyed her command was tremendous.

  I should have kept the retina display on by default so that I’d know immediately when I started broadcasting. How long have things been dexter? How much of the last hour had been broadcast to the Torka office?

  At last she reached Dolly’s office. The door stood open and she could see the policeman— what was his name? Something Polish—getting his feet, blinking sleepily.

  The Trophy Room

  “And why did you not destroy the creature as ordered?” Herr Kroll stared as though he could draw the truth from her with sheer force of will. Elke rubbed a hand across her face, fighting down a yawn. I’ve already told you about a hundred times was what she wanted to say but she knew that everything depended on placating the old man.

  “I needed her to show me what the emergency was—”

  “And how did you know there was an emergency?”

  “She gave me the signal. I had no reason to doubt her. And if I hadn’t believed her, the geistlin would be dead by now.”

  Herr Kroll seemed unimpressed. “A signal? This sounds like a children’s adventure story to me. How could the dog have known that this geistlin was in need of help, let alone known how to communicate this with you?”

  Elke took a moment to frame her response. “Even a normal dog can be trained to respond to an emergency and signal for help,” she said at last. “And this is a highly trained gardag, with at least several years of experience with exactly this type of work.

  “Also, you might not be aware of this, but the fact that gardags mind-link with humans from a very early age has a huge impact on their language abilities. They can’t speak like we can, but they understand what we say and they can be taught to communicate at quite a high level.”

  She stopped speaking with an effort.

  The old man seemed faintly surprised. “Very well,” he said. “So the creature—for some reason I still cannot comprehend—knew how to lead you to the boy’s location. But once he was found, surely you could have dealt with killing the dog then.”

  “I guess I could have. Sir.” Elke was so tired it was difficult to remember to be polite. “I was so focused on getting the boy to Dolly that it didn’t occur to me, and then she slipped away again.”

  “And now we are back to one square.” Herr Kroll’s manner was even stiffer and colder than before. “What are you going to do to fix this, Veraart?”

  Elke stood straighter. “I think the dog will come out to me again because I gave her no reason to fear me. But is it necessary to kill her? She’s very valuable and very useful. My original orders were to find her—”

  Her words were doing no good. Herr Kroll was shaking his head. “It’s not that simple.” He took out his snuffbox and fumbled unsuccessfully with the lid. He put the box on his desk, took out his handkerchief and mopped at his face. “We dare not. Dare not risk that the dog be found by our rivals. There have been infiltrations, into this very office—” Then he seemed to remember who he was speaking to and clamped his mouth shut.

  “Spies?”

  He frowned down at the desk as though he’d not heard her. As the silence lengthened, Elke once again became aware of the other presence in the office, the woman who sat perfectly motionless in her peripheral vision—the shade with her tattooed face. Recording every word they said.

  Is he referring to her? But surely she works for him? She couldn’t imagine that Herr Kroll would allow anyone to record his private meetings unless he had complete control over it. He’d openly discussed the gardag in the shade’s hearing. He wouldn’t have done so if he thought the woman’s mental records were accessible to anybody else, surely?

  Seeing the direction of her gaze, Herr Kroll gave a wintery smile. “Oh, not our lady of perfect memory. She has been edited to report only to me. No.” He sighed. “It is nothing as straightforward as that. I suspect—” But then he shook his head sharply. “All that matters is eliminating that dog as swiftly as possible. No more heroics, Veraart. And if you cannot deliver, I’ll be forced to other measures. Understood?”

  ¤¤¤

  Elke walked slowly back out through the Torka offices, hoping to get a glimpse of Moraes but all the doors were closed. As she stepped out the front door, she saw that somebody was waiting there, a tall stranger clad in a grey silk suit, his skin scribbled all over with spiderweb-fine tattoos. He held out a hand, fingertips not quite touching her sleeve. “Excuse me, but you must be mejuffrou Veraart?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “I have a message for you from Hergeist Ochse. He requests that you come and see him as soon as is convenient.”

  Elke squinted up at the man, wondering what his rank was. Eidolon? Geist? What does it matter?

  “I think you must be mixing me up with somebody else. I don’t know Herr—”

  “Hergeist Ochse.” The man blinked down at her then said, “I believe it is in relation to the discovery of Geistlin Justice. Hergeist Ochse is, of course, Geistlin Justice’s father.”

  A wave of exhaustion washed over Elke. “Oh. Okay, that makes sense.” He’ll want to speak to me too. And I wonder what story Justice told his father? Let’s hope he kept it simple.

  “If you would follow me, mejuffrou Veraart?”

  ¤¤¤

  Hergeist Ochse’s rooms were up in the Solar level. It was on the stranger-side of the Eye, so they had to cross one of the narrow foot bridges that spanned the central well. Elke had never minded heights, but the bridge swayed and creaked to the rhythm of their steps more than was reassuring. It was better to look up and around, rather than down.

  There was plenty to see. The solluster spiralled all around them. Rounded clumps of some kind were strung here and there on its wires. It was only when she saw one of the birdlike creatures clinging to one that she realised that they must be nests—woven, she saw, from scraps of paper and plastic.

  The grey-clad geist walked in perfect silence, so she had a chance to think about what she would say to Justice’s father. We agreed on a story. Or did we? Justice had been so sulky by the time she’d left him with Dolly that she was far from sure he’d follow her suggestions.

  How did I get mixed up in this mess? The familiar coils of anger tightened in her gut and her jaw. Better stay calm.

  At last they reached their destination, a frontage that seemed to have been carved out of milky white marble. There were far more colls here than anywhere else she’d seen so far—tiny white beads dotting every surface and casting a directionless light that reminded her of an early, misty morning. The door slid open as they approached, and the grey geist gestured for her to enter.

  The first thing she noticed was the floor. It surprised her so much that she teetered on the doorstep for a moment before nerving herself to step out on it.

  It can’t be real. She wanted to bend down to touch it with her fingertips but the sound of her boots told her that it was no illusion. Solid yellow wood. The entire floor is solid yellow wood. How?

  The biggest piece of yellow wood she’d seen outside of a photo or a flick had been in one of the museums her father had taken her when she was still a child. There they’d seen an entire chair made of the stuff. She knew rich people had luxurious furniture, but this—

  Then she took in the rest of the room and she forgot about the gleaming expanse under her feet. This time the surprise robbed her of her breath.

  The walls were hung with heads. Animal heads. She spotted several impalas, tiny klipspringers, a snarling leopard, a wolf and worst of all, the huge, bulky head of a rhino.

  Elke stared at the rhino, feeling the blood drain from her face. The sight of the sad old creature was like a kick to the stomach and all she could do was stand there, trembling with rage and memories. How many of them are there left? Are any of the wild ones still out there? The years she’d spent with the Rent, tracking down the poachers, keeping the big beasts safe—

  “Great old guy, isn’t he?”

  The man had come up to her quite silently—a tall, stoop-shouldered stranger-man, the tattoos a faded blue-grey on his pale, old man’s skin. Elke’s hand went to her thigh in search of the knife that wasn’t there then she made herself relax. Keep it together. This isn’t the place to go off half cocked.

  The man was still looking at the rhino, head on one side, eyes narrowed. “Perfect replica. Down to the scars, see.”

  “Replica?”

  The man’s eyebrows rose. “Sure. Grew this head from a bud. Took about three months’ work, but worth it. Same process as your—” And he swept with a finger toward his temple. “In fact—” Before Elke could react, he stepped right up to her and took hold of her chin. She had to muster all her self-control not to knee him in the groin.

  “Hm. Not bad at all.” He was so close she could smell him, sweat and something like soap. “Nicely seated,” he said, peering at her horns. “Not a bad job. Perfect detail, in fact. Steenbok?” He released her chin and Elke stepped back, putting a hand up to her horns as if to check that they were still there.

  “Looks like something from one of my labs,” said the man. “Got them on the black market?”

  Elke eyed him warily but there was no accusation in his tone. “Yes.”

  “Horns used to be high fashion. Not anymore. Pity. But I called you here because of my son. Come through.”

 

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