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front of him before he could speak, then the lieutenant sat on the bench. Corthie gazed at the contents of the bowl, feeling an urge to fling it against the wall. Even Van was tiring of him; he could feel it.

‘What do we do now?’ said Sohul.

‘We wait,’ said Van. ‘We need to know if Naxor is returning.’

‘And if he doesn’t?’

Van sighed. ‘Then I don’t know.’

‘Surely we have to wait here until Corthie has fully recovered?’

‘But how long will that take?’ Van said. ‘There is also the possibility that he won’t get any better than he is now.’ He met Corthie’s glance. ‘You were dead for several minutes. Belinda, and I say this with all respect, but she didn’t know what she was doing. I have a suspicion that she revived your heart, but that she didn’t take the time to heal all of your organs; maybe she didn’t realise that she was supposed to, and I didn’t remind her. I’ve seen people brought back by the gods before, and they only took a few days to recover. I only took a few days. It’s been over a month now, and I’m not seeing much improvement day-to-day.’

‘But his appetite’s back,’ said Sohul.

‘So he says, but he hasn’t actually eaten anything.’

Corthie gazed at the bowl. His hunger had evaporated at some point while they had been discussing Vana. He picked up a spoon and forced down a mouthful of the thick fish soup, then almost gagged. He felt dizzy, and the pains in his stomach reappeared the moment he swallowed. He thought about Van’s words, feeling that he might be correct. Nothing about his insides felt quite right, from his joints to his stomach, lungs and head. Everything ached or felt different.

‘What about salve?’ he said. ‘Would that work?’

‘Yeah, probably,’ Van said. ‘The problem is trying to get some. There’s none to be had in Kin Dai as far as I can tell, and I’ve asked around. If any Banner forces were here, then we might be in with a chance of stealing some, if, that is, it’s still being distributed to the soldiers. One vial might be enough.’

‘Naxor had some,’ said Corthie. ‘He had a small flask of it.’

‘I searched his room a few days ago while he was out,’ said Van. ‘If he has any, it isn’t on the boat.’

‘You searched his room?’ said Sohul, his eyes wide. ‘But he’d know about it; he would know you had been in there. He reads our minds; I’m sure of it.’

Van nodded. ‘I made the assumption that he would find out. To be frank, I’m beyond caring what Naxor thinks about me. If he hadn’t tried to snatch the Quadrant from Amalia, then Kelsey and Aila would still be with us.’

‘Why are you both still here?’ said Corthie. ‘It can’t be due to any contract we might have had.’

Sohul and Van shared a glance.

‘You’re right,’ said Van. ‘We helped save you from Fordamere, but our handshake agreements expired some time ago. I’m here for one reason; I promised Kelsey I wouldn’t stop looking for her.’

‘And I’m here,’ said Sohul, ‘because of Van. I have a great deal of respect for you, Corthie, but the truth is that the Banners of Implacatus will have black-listed both me and Van by now. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to return home, not after I was seen leading an attack on Banner soldiers in Fordamere. So, I stick by my captain. He is my friend, and that’s what friends do.’

Corthie nodded, deflated and in pain. He stood, and walked towards his room, ignoring the glances from Van and Sohul. He entered his cabin and closed the door. The smell had receded, and the salty air of the estuary was permeating the room. He crouched down and reached under the bed, his hand searching through piles of clothes and rubbish, until his fingers touched the surface of a clay jug. He grasped it and took it out, then sat on the bed.

One benefit of his condition, he thought, as he pulled the stopper free, was that his tolerance to alcohol had plummeted. He raised the jug to his lips and drank, gulping down the cheap, harsh spirits. His throat burned, then the warmth spread like a comforting hand across his chest, easing his aches and soothing his bitter disappointment. He felt a glow of giddy well-being, and smiled, before taking another large gulp. He thought about what Van and Sohul would be thinking, but he didn’t care, the drink smothering the anxiety he had felt at the table. So, they weren’t there for him, so what? He didn’t need them; he could clean up his own vomit.

He heard doors opening and closing, then Naxor’s voice drifted through to him. He stood, gripping the jug in one hand, and staggered into the galley.

‘Hey, Naxor,’ he said, stumbling into the long, narrow room. ‘I was hoping you’d buggered off with that bitch Vana.’

Naxor regarded him with a cool eye. ‘I was sorely tempted, believe me.’

Corthie laughed. ‘Why didn’t you? No one wants you here.’

Van frowned at him. ‘Sit down, Corthie.’

‘Screw you,’ Corthie said; ‘screw the lot of you.’

The galley stilled.

‘Em,’ said Sohul; ‘Naxor was just telling us that he’s carried out today’s vision sweep, but there’s no sign of Aila or Kelsey.’

‘And why in Pyre’s name should we believe that little rat? He’s a liar and a thief, and I should have killed him back in the City.’

‘Maybe you should go to bed,’ said Van.

‘Why?’ said Corthie, taking another long swig. ‘I’m just getting started.’ He shook the jug and frowned. Empty already. He dropped it, and it rolled to the side of the floor, coming to a rest by Naxor’s foot. He remembered that he might have hidden another somewhere in his cabin. ‘On second thoughts,’ he said, swaying, ‘I might lie down for a minute.’

He turned and stumbled off, colliding with the wall before making it back into his cabin. He scratched his head.

‘Alright,

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