the premises!’ the butler snapped, loud enough to draw titters from the guests nearby. Crake blushed, despite himself. He hurried back towards the ballroom as the butler began to vent his anger on the hapless manservant who had let Crake pass minutes before.
Once in the ballroom, he looked for Jez, and found her with Vexford. The older man was towering over her, drunk on sherry and success, bawling about his outrageous exploits during the Second Aerium War. Crake strode up to them and took Jez by the arm.
‘Cra—’ Jez began, then corrected herself. ‘Sweetheart!’
‘We’re going,’ he said, pulling her away.
‘Here, now, you boor!’ protested Vexford, who was still in mid-story; but Crake ignored him, and Jez was propelled away. Vexford grabbed her wrist to stop her.
‘Sir!’ she exclaimed, breathlessly.
Vexford leaned closer and murmured huskily in her ear. ‘I have a large estate, just outside Banbarr. Anyone in the city will know where it is. If you ever tire of this ruffian, you will be most welcome.’ Then she was pulled away again by her impatient companion.
‘It’s been a great pleasure, sir!’ Jez called over her shoulder. ‘I hope to meet again!’ Then the crowd closed around them, and she turned to Crake with a narrow glare. ‘You left me alone with him,’ she accused. ‘He smells of sour milk and carrots.’
‘We’ll talk about it later, dear,’ said Crake.
‘I don’t think I want to marry you any more,’ she sulked.
Twenty
The crowd on the lawns had thinned out considerably - most of them were in the ballroom now - and the chorus of night insects was in full voice. Crake pulled off his earcuff and threw it into a flower bed as they passed. It was useless without its partner, and he wasn’t about to retrieve it from Thade’s pocket. He’d make more, and better.
‘So I take it you found out what you wanted?’
‘I found out more than I wanted,’ he muttered. ‘But right now I’d like to get off this island as quickly as possible.’
Crake looked up into the moonless sky as they walked, fancying he might see a patch of deeper black in the blackness: the Delirium Trigger, lurking in wait. Jez, having picked up on his obvious agitation, stayed silent.
They crossed the lawns and came to the old path that led to the manor’s landing pad. Here, passenger craft ran a shuttle service to the port of Black Seal Bluff on the mainland. The Ketty Jay was hidden in a glade a few kloms out from the port. Shaken by his near-miss with the Delirium Trigger, Frey hadn’t dared set down in Black Seal Bluff itself. A sensible precaution, as it turned out. Dracken’s undercover spies would have spotted the craft immediately.
They’d been fortunate so far. They’d received more than their share of luck. But the circle was drawing tighter now, and the closer they got to the truth behind the destruction of the Ace of Skulls, the more it constricted.
The path down to the landing pad was wide and deserted, with a knee-high drystone wall on either side. It wound down the hill, occasionally bulging out into small rest areas with carved wooden benches. Weeping bottlebrush and jacarandas overhung the wall, obscuring sections of the path. Electric lamps, set in recesses, lit their faces from below. Bats feasted on insects in the blood-warm darkness overhead.
Crake was so intent on getting down to the pad and away that he was surprised when Jez suddenly tugged him to a halt.
‘Someone’s there,’ she said. She was staring intently into the foliage, a distant look in her eyes, as if she was seeing right through the leaves and bark to whoever hid beyond.
‘What?
