Part 6 (2/2)

Ianthe said, 'I'm not going down there.'

Granger peeled off his gloves and let them drop to the floor. They were slick with brine and would have burned his captives' skin.

'Shush, Inny,' Hana said. 'We'll be fine.'

'It's thoroughly rotten. We won't survive.'

Her mother hugged her more tightly. 'We always survive.'

But Ianthe struggled out of Hana's embrace. 'There's a starving man in one of his cells,' she cried, pus.h.i.+ng her mother away. 'And a drawer for a loo. How can you say we'll be fine when he treats his captives like that?' She took a breath as if to scream. 'The man in the boat told him to drown us!'

Granger stopped and stared at her, as helpless to respond to this sudden squall of teenage anger as he was to the words themselves. How did she know these things? She couldn't have heard Creedy. She couldn't be aware of the man in the cell.

Hana tried to restrain her daughter. 'Inny, please . . .'

But Ianthe would not be pacified. She stood up, her leg-irons clattering, then picked up the chain and pulled it. The locking cuff rattled against the water pipe, but it would not yield. Suddenly she spun round to face her mother again, her face flushed and savage. 'Who is he to you?' she demanded. 'Why do you look at him like that? He's hideous. You can't know him. You can't!'

'Inny-'

Granger felt his heart sink. 'She's psychic,' he said.

'No,' Hana replied.

'You hid hid her from the Haurstaf?' her from the Haurstaf?'

The woman's expression tightened with frustration. 'No. You don't understand.'

'Do you know what they'll do to you when they find out?'

'She's not like them, I swear. They can't sense her. She-'

Ianthe cut her off with a yell. 'Don't you dare tell him!'

Hana reached for her daughter again. 'Sweetheart, maybe it's-'

Ianthe slapped her.

The sound of it snapped the argument to silence. For a long time Granger just stood there, listening to his own heart drumming in his ears. He didn't know what to say. Ianthe was trembling, breathing heavily as she gazed vacantly down at her mother. Hana sniffed and rubbed tears from her eyes.

'I'm not not psychic,' Ianthe said bitterly. psychic,' Ianthe said bitterly.

'You're untrained,' Granger said, 'unfocused.'

She snorted. 'What difference does it make? You've already got it all planned out. Sell me to the Haurstaf, build yourself a proper jail. I don't care.'

A proper jail? She'd slipped that remark in with admirable ease. He'd been thinking of selling her to buy a new boat, as she well knew. Despite himself, he felt a twinge of admiration for the girl. 'Was that particular insight intended to convince me you're not psychic?' She'd slipped that remark in with admirable ease. He'd been thinking of selling her to buy a new boat, as she well knew. Despite himself, he felt a twinge of admiration for the girl. 'Was that particular insight intended to convince me you're not psychic?'

Her hands tightened to fists. 'You just don't get it, do you?' She faced him and spoke with emphatic sarcasm, p.r.o.nouncing each word as if he were r.e.t.a.r.ded. 'I don't know what you are thinking.'

'Then explain it to me.'

Ianthe sat back down on the floor beside her mother.

After a moment Hana clasped her daughter's fingers in her own. Then she wiped away more tears and said, 'Ianthe can see and hear things that other people can't.'

'That's obvious enough,' Granger said.

'That's not what I mean,' Hana said. 'Psychics read thoughts, but Ianthe only sees sees and and hears hears whatever is around her. Her senses are just like yours or mine, only better. A lot better.' whatever is around her. Her senses are just like yours or mine, only better. A lot better.'

Granger frowned. 'She heard heard Creedy whispering to me?' Creedy whispering to me?'

Hana nodded.

'And the man downstairs?'

'Ianthe?'

The girl shrugged. 'I heard him sobbing.'

Had Duka been sobbing? Granger hadn't heard anything like that at all. He tried to think of a moment in which the starving man had made a sound that might might have revealed his condition to the girl upstairs, but there simply wasn't one. have revealed his condition to the girl upstairs, but there simply wasn't one. No money, no food No money, no food, Granger had thought. His every instinct told him he was being lied to.

'And the drawer?' he said.

Ianthe hesitated. 'What drawer?'

'The drawer in your cell,' he said. 'Did you hear that too?' He turned to find her glaring furiously at him and knew he'd trapped her. 'I'm sending a letter to Losoto tomorrow,' he said. 'I don't suppose I need to tell you who it's for and what I'm going to write.' The Haurstaf would pay a fortune for one of their own.

Her cold hard eyes narrowed. 'You don't have to tell me anything,' she growled. 'I know all about you. Your father was a beggar and your mother was Drowned when he took her. That's why you're so ugly. She squeezed you out of her womb like a fish. And your father took one look at you and wanted to vomit, so now you run this rotting prison because you can't do anything else. A sad little tinpot dictator who gets his thrills out of locking people up. You make me sick.'

Hana closed her eyes.

Granger took a deep breath. Then he unlocked the girl's leg-irons, seized her by the waist and pitched her over his shoulder. She wasn't heavy, but she fought like a cat in a kitbag, screaming and kicking and trying to scratch him. One of her boots flew off and smashed into the crockery in the sink. He carried the struggling girl down the stairs and along the flooded corridor and dumped her unceremoniously onto the platform he'd constructed in the fourth cell. And then he stood there wheezing while she scrambled back against the wall, her cheeks burning with embarra.s.sment, her eyes mere pinp.r.i.c.ks of hate.

'You . . . stay, while I get . . . your mother.'

'b.a.s.t.a.r.d.'

He didn't bother to close the cell door behind her. The brine would damage her feet if she tried to escape. When he reached the bottom of the steps he sat down and rested his head against the wall. Ten slow breaths. Ten slow breaths. The metal stench of seawater pinched his nostrils. He could hear her sobbing further down the corridor. He gnashed his teeth and dragged himself upright and went back upstairs. The metal stench of seawater pinched his nostrils. He could hear her sobbing further down the corridor. He gnashed his teeth and dragged himself upright and went back upstairs.

Hana was sitting on the floor. 'We've been in one cell or another for the last six months,' she said. 'The detention centre, the s.h.i.+p, but the worst was Interrogation. When we didn't know the answer to their questions; they kept on asking until we did. The hard part was figuring out what they wanted to hear.'

'And that's what you've been doing with me?'

She looked at him directly. 'The Haurstaf will kill her.'

<script>