Part 11 (1/2)

Towards dawn, Granger sat with Ianthe and Hana on the roof of his jail, eating thrice-boiled fish baked in sugar and cinnamon that Hana had prepared while they'd been away. A small oil lantern rested on the brine purifier nearby. Ianthe was telling her mother about the amphora.

'What did it perceive?' Hana asked.

Ianthe snorted. 'I don't know! Jellyfish don't have any eyes or ears, do they?'

'You saw nothing inside?' Granger asked.

'I don't see see at all,' Ianthe said. at all,' Ianthe said.

Granger noted that her tone had become less cynical and hostile. She was beginning to accept her situation, and that troubled him more than he cared to admit. She didn't belong here, nor anywhere with him. He couldn't take them with him.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. Once he bought his new boat, he might as well return them to Evensraum. Or even Lions-port, at the edge of the empire. They'd probably be safer there.

'Can you see what Creedy's doing?' he asked.

Ianthe's spoon halted halfway to her mouth. She appeared to smile slightly, although it was so brief it may have been Granger's imagination. And then her blank eyes gazed at the ground for a moment. 'He must be sleeping,' she said, then went back to her meal.

'How do you know? How can you find him?'

She spoke with her mouth full. 'It's like flying through darkness. You can see little islands of light everywhere, but the islands are really someone's perception, and you can drift down inside them if you concentrate.' She swallowed her food and took another bite. 'Then the darkness goes away and you hear and see exactly what they do. But when there's n.o.body about, it's just black, empty of anything. I can see this roof because you and Mother do. And I can see a room in that building,' she pointed to Cuttle's jail, 'because somebody is moving about over there. But the area between is just dead s.p.a.ce, like your friend Creedy's house.'

'You know where he lives.'

She shrugged. 'Only because I sat in his head and watched him go there.'

'But if he's somewhere else? Could you still find him?'

She shrugged. 'Maybe,' she said. 'But I'd have to look inside all the different lights, and that would take all night. How do I I know where he is?' know where he is?'

Granger thought about this. Ianthe could follow someone, spy on them, by putting herself inside that person's mind. But once out of their head, it was difficult for her to relocate them amongst the millions of other people unless she knew exactly where to look. 'Can you tell who is who?' he asked. 'When you move into these islands in the darkness, these perceptions, do you know whose eyes you are looking through?'

Ianthe finished her meal and set down the bowl. 'Not at first,' she admitted. 'You can see your own arms and legs, but you can't see your own face, can you? Sometimes the only way I can know for sure is to look at the person through someone else's eyes, unless they happen to look in a mirror, I suppose. Women look in mirrors a lot . . . so does Emperor Hu. I don't think Creedy owns a mirror, though.'

'You shouldn't be spying on the emperor,' Granger said.

She gave him a sarcastic smile. 'Only on your friends?'

Granger grunted. He got up and strolled to the edge of the roof. His garret sloped darkly behind him, and down in the ca.n.a.l the brine was as black as sin. No green and gold lights. He couldn't see his own boat. There was only the constant slap of water in the darkness and the sour metal stench of the sea. The great shadowy ma.s.ses of the surrounding jails loomed over him, now silhouetted against the lightening sky. Steam rose from the funnels of Dan Cuttle's place. He was probably boiling up a vat of bones. He searched the skies for Ortho's Chariot but couldn't spot it. Scores of stars still sparkled ahead of the coming sunrise. The day looked like it would be another fine one. Granger felt the time was right.

He turned to the girls. 'Wait here.'

He went back into his garret and took out the large paper parcel he'd hidden under his cot, then carried it back up to the roof and gave it to Hana.

'What's this?' she asked.

'Just something I picked up.'

Hana unwrapped the parcel. It contained two ankle-length satin frocks, each adorned with all sorts of fancy lace frills. One was mostly peach-coloured, with silvery sparkles across the front, while the other boasted pink and yellow stripes and puffy arms. Hana held up the peach dress and blinked at it. 'You bought these for us?'

'The other one's for Ianthe. It's got ruffles.'

Ianthe's face remained expressionless. 'Ruffles,' she said in a flat voice. 'Yes, it does, doesn't it?'

Hana appeared to suppress a smile. She moved more of the crumpled paper aside. 'And what's this? Undergarments?' She lifted out a pair of the knee-length white pantaloons Mrs Pursewearer had sold Granger and held them out at arm's length. 'These look . . . well made.'

'I'm told they're good quality,' Granger said.

Ianthe gave a little squawk, then covered her mouth with her hand.

Hana looked up at him with bright eyes. She gave him a huge smile, then stood up and kissed him on the cheek. 'I don't know what to say. Thank you. Thank you from both of us.'

Granger looked at his feet. He nodded awkwardly. 'Your old clothes were pretty rotten,' he said. 'I didn't want you both getting fleas.'

Creedy was shaking him. 'Colonel, I found a buyer.'

Granger blinked and raised his hands against harsh sunlight. 'What time is it?'

'Afternoon.'

'What day?'

'I dunno. Today.'

'G.o.ds, man, do you never go to bed?'

'Not when there's money to be made,' Creedy replied. 'I found us a buyer for the olea. A collector, here in Ethugra.'

Granger sat up in his cot and stretched his neck. The roof of his garret wavered with copper-coloured reflections. He remembered putting Ianthe and Hana in their cell, but not much after that. He must have been exhausted. 'The jellyfish? I thought Maskelyne was the only collector in Ethugra.'

'That's what I thought,' Creedy replied. 'But then I started asking around, sly like, so n.o.body-'

'How much did you get for it?'

Creedy frowned. 'I said I've found us a buyer. I didn't say I'd sold the b.l.o.o.d.y thing. He wants to meet you.'

'Me?'

'The brains of the operation.'

Granger got up. 'What do I know about jellyfish?'

'About as much as me,' Creedy said. 'But you're prettier than me, and the buyer's some t.i.tled Evensraum merchant. All airs and graces. Wipes his a.r.s.e with squares of silk. I don't know if I could speak to him without murdering him.'

Granger frowned. What was an Evensraumer was doing in Ethugra? Unless . . . Unless . . .

'He's a prisoner?'

Creedy nodded. 'A rich prisoner. Holed up in one of the Imperial jails on Averley. Special privileges and all that. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d used to own more land than Hu. He's got gilders coming out of his pores.'

Granger knew the type. Wealth bought luxury and status even in Ethugran prisons, even if it couldn't always purchase freedom. There were captives in this city who ate better than their jailers did. They were always pre-a.s.signed to Imperial jails, thus avoiding the allocation system used for regular inmates. Emperor Hu made a good profit from such prisons, although it was rumoured that Maskelyne's men actually ran them.