‘Everything we have,’ he heard himself say. ‘It must surely be enough.’

There was a spectacular explosion of fire and stone, and the east tower simply flew apart, some strike of the flagship having found its ammunition store. The flying debris battered the nearest armourclad, rolling it violently so that its starboard rail was almost under water. With a dozen great dents in its side, it began to drift towards the shattered tower, its engine still running but its rudder ruined.

Cabre had been in that tower, Stenwold recalled. He suddenly felt ill.

The lead armourclad was still forging forwards but it was on fire in a dozen places from Greatly’s ministrations. Even as he watched, Stenwold saw one of the diminutive fliers hover neatly by its main funnel. It was too far to see the descent of the bombs, but a moment later there was a cavernous bang from within the vessel, and the funnel’s smoke doubled, and redoubled. The flier was already skimming away, and the others were leaving too, making all ways from the stricken ship. Stenwold saw at least one of them falter and fall to the Vekken crossbowmen, spiralling over and over, out of control, until the water received him.

Balkus grabbed Stenwold and threw him to the quayside, more roughly than necessary, and then the stones beneath him jumped hard enough to throw him upwards an inch and smack the breath from him when he came down.

A single piece of jagged metal was thrown far enough to clatter onto the docks, but the centre of the lead armourclad had exploded into a twisted sculpture of ruined metal and burning wood that clogged the mouth of the harbour. Beyond it, through a curtain of smoke, Stenwold could dimly see other ships of the fleet making ponderous turns, still under attack from the air. One of them was listing already, its wooden hull holed beneath the waterline in what must have been Tseitus’s blow for Collegium.

The fliers began to return home, and there seemed so very few.

The powerfully-built Fly-kinden stepped from the dockside house, watching the ships retreat, his vantage a slice of sea and sky viewed down a narrow back alley. ‘I want my money back,’ said the treasure-hunter Kori to the women behind him.

‘Go to the wastes!’ the Madam spat at him. ‘You filthy little monster!’

He leered at her, lounging in the doorway, oblivious to the smoke on the air. ‘Come, now, the world’s about to end isn’t it?’ he demanded. ‘The city’s about to fall. Your ladies should be giving it out free, just for the joy of their profession. I’d thought I’d find some proper dedication to your trade here, in this city of learning.’

The old Beetle woman regarded him venomously but said nothing. Kori laughed at her. ‘Instead, what is there? The moment a little disturbance happens, and four streets away mind, all your girls lose their nerve and start crying and whimpering and begging for their lives. I mean, it’s not that I don’t enjoy that sort of thing but, still, if they won’t perform, what is there? The trade’s fallen into a sad state. It’s no wonder they call this a house of ill repute.’

‘You brute!’ the old woman said. ‘This is our home, our city! We can’t all just fly away through the air when the walls come down.’

‘Well, exactly,’ the Fly agreed. ‘But will you make the best of it? No, you will not. You could have had a few coins from me, woman, and they might have stood you in good stead. I’m sure there’s a Vekken Ant with a venal soul somewhere out there. My ardour has cooled though, so my purse remains shut. I leave you only with my own disappointment.’

He walked away from them, whistling jauntily against the misery of the city around him. He felt it incumbent upon him to at least keep his own spirits up. So Collegium was on the rocks these days. That was no business of his. Let the Ants and the Beetles sort their own lives out, so long as he got what he came for.

The other hunters were still outside the city, waiting for his return and report. He had decided that he was the most experienced man amongst them, and therefore that he should be their leader. So far, at least, they had followed his suggestions. He knew a few of them by reputation, had met with Gaved the Wasp once before in a bitter dispute over an escaped slave. There were no hard feelings, though. They were both professionals.

He holed up in a taverna until dusk, enjoying being the only unconcerned man in a panicking city. The prices were cheap but the service was poor, because the innkeeper’s son and daughter had both run off to join the army. That thought made Kori smile at the foolishness of the world. It was not that he feared risk, since risk was his business, but he always made sure that he was suitably reimbursed for any risks he took, and made sure he could always fly away if things got messy. In a world turned so badly on its head, there was no better life than that of a mercenary agent.

As dusk fell he made his silent exit, flying fast and high above the Vekken encampment, beyond any Ant-kinden’s view or crossbow’s reach, out into the hills beyond until he had tracked down his fellows’ camp.

‘You’re late,’ Scylis informed him, when he landed.

‘I set the clock, so I’m never late,’ Kori said. ‘I’ve been biding my time, is all.’

‘Well?’ asked Gaved.

‘Well I visited Collegium once before,’ Kori said, ‘but I don’t recall it as being quite so crawling with Ants.’

The four hunters looked over the camps of dark tents that had spread like a stain around the city. From their hilltop retreat they had heard the loudest sounds of conflict, the roars of the leadshotters and other firepowder weaponry.

Gaved had spent the day spying out the walls with his telescope. ‘Well, they warned us to expect trouble.’

‘This is more than just trouble,’ the Fly considered. ‘This complicates things. We should be asking for more money.’

‘That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it, Kori?’ observed Phin the Moth, looking amused.

‘Never found a problem it couldn’t solve yet,’ he agreed. ‘You reckon this is the Empire, then?’

‘Vekkens,’ Phin corrected him.

‘Yeah, but that maggot patron of ours in Helleron knew there’d be trouble. So I reckon the Empire’s been stirring, eh?’

‘Of course it’s the Empire,’ Scylis, Scyla, told them. Her companions talked too much, and she was fed up with all of them. She always worked best alone. Phin and Gaved had even slept with each other a couple of times, which she viewed as unprofessional. There was no real affection there, she knew, just physical need, but it still irked her. Perhaps it was the price of her wearing a man’s face most of the time.

‘I reckon the Empire wants all of this,’ Gaved said distantly. ‘They’re starting fires like this all over, so they can just come over and stamp them out. Going to be a bleak enough place when the black-and-gold gets here.’

‘You? What will you have to worry about?’ Scyla asked him. ‘They’re your cursed people.’

That made him frown at her, and sharply too. ‘If you had any idea how hard I’ve fought to be free of their bloody ranks and rules, you wouldn’t say that.’

‘Still living off their table scraps, though, just like the rest of us,’ she jibed.

‘Yes I am. So what’s the plan?’

‘Plan hasn’t changed,’ Kori explained. ‘Go in, get it, get out – just the usual. A little war won’t stop us.’

‘And if there’s anyone here who can’t get himself in past the Vekken then he shouldn’t be doing this job,’ Scyla added.

‘Well, Master Spider, and when did you grow your wings?’ Phin asked acidly.

‘Don’t you worry about me,’ Scyla told her. ‘I’ll be through the Ant camp and up the wall, and they’ll never even know it.’

‘Best if we all make our own way, then,’ Kori said. ‘You need to find the main marketplace of the middle city. That’s about three streets south of the white College walls,’ he added, because none of the others had been there before. ‘There’s a taverna called the Fortune and Sky, a merchant’s dive, so we’ll meet out back of that. For now, let’s all pick our points of departure, as close to the action as you like.’