Benzamir saw the truth of it. ‘Wahir, Elenya. It’s time to give up the wands of insanely powerful fireballs.’

Wahir reluctantly put the gun down on the ground. Even more reluctantly, Elenya did the same.

‘We’re surrendering? To them?’ said Wahir. ‘What if they kill us?’

‘If any of them had wanted to kill us, they would have done it by now. All it would take would be one person willing to pull the trigger, but they don’t seem to have anyone left who’d do that.’

They waited.

‘Why don’t they give up, master?’ whispered Said.

‘Pride. They’ve nowhere to go, no way of getting out of this, and their schemes are in disarray. But they had such high hopes. They wanted to do good and save you from yourselves. It turned out to be one long slide into disaster, and they still can’t quite believe it.’ Benzamir coughed, and it hurt.

The white-dusted face of Peri Renzo climbed over the wreckage of the ground-floor habs. She had a small gun in one hand, obviously aiming it at Benzamir’s head. It took him a few moments to recognize her, a few more to realize what she held.

He heard the weapon power up.

‘You’ve actually collected some of the natives and brought them along for the ride? How incredibly predictable of you, Benzamir. How excruciatingly noble. Even while opposing us, you do the very thing you would stop us doing.’

Va stepped between them. ‘You are the leader of these people?’ he asked.

She tried to aim around the monk, but he shifted his weight easily and always managed to block her view.

‘Again, I ask you: are you the leader here?’

‘Yes, what of it?’ she growled in frustration. ‘Get out of my way.’

‘No. I will not.’ He walked closer until Renzo was forced to point the gun at him alone.

‘What is it you want from me?’

Va leaned in so that she could see his scars, see the fury that burned behind his eyes, feel the searing rage seeping from every pore of his skin. ‘By the authority of His Holiness Father Yeremai, patriarch of Moscow and of all Russia, I demand that you give me back my books.’

Only then did she see him for who he really was. He knocked her weapon hand aside like he was swatting a fly, took another step and he was so close, their breath touched each other’s lips.

‘Now,’ he said.

What was left of the colour in her face drained away.

‘I should have introduced you,’ said Benzamir. ‘This is Brother Va of the monastery of Saint Samuil in Arkady. He’s the sole survivor of your raid to steal the User books. He’s come all this way to get them back. He didn’t come with force of arms like I did. He just wants the books, and he’ll stay here until he gets them.’ He looked at each of the faces behind the rifles, twenty people he would once have called friends. ‘Who’s going to tell him why his brothers died? Which one of you?’

One by one, they lowered their gaze.

‘I can still give you sanctuary. Take it while you still can.’

Renzo turned away, let her gun fall nerveless through her fingers, and with a sudden sigh the others followed.

‘They knew from the very start what would happen,’ said Benzamir.

‘How do you know, master? Can you read their minds?’

‘Look at all the weapons they brought with them, Said. No matter what they say, this is the evidence that cries out the loudest.’

‘Benzamir?’

‘Alessandra?’

‘You are the best, bravest man to have ever lived.’

‘Not me. That one there.’ He shuffled himself forward, dragging his feet stiffly until he could slap Va’s shiny head. ‘You did it. The patriarch will be so very proud of you.’

Knowing that he had disobeyed his earthly father in every last matter, Va started to shake, not with cold, but with sobs. Benzamir drew him in and held him the best he could, whispering words of Old Russian in his ear like an angel, Said and Alessandra supporting them both.

‘What happens now, Benzamir?’ Alessandra asked.

He said nothing, but instead made some stupid, spur-of-the-moment decisions he might now actually live to regret.

CHAPTER 44

HE WAS BACK where he’d started, standing on glittering white sand under the heat of a midday sun. The Inner Ocean had long ago washed the beach clean of the remains of the slave he’d dragged from the water and hadn’t had time to bury.

‘Do you remember, Said?’

‘How could I forget? You grinning like you were touched by the sun, and Ibn Alam swinging his precious sword around.’ Said reached down and scooped up a handful of dry sand, then let it trickle through his clenched fist. ‘You punched me in the throat, then tied me up.’

‘Yes,’ said Benzamir, ‘but I’m not sorry.’

‘And I’m not asking you to apologize. It was the will of Allah that brought us together that day, and more fool Ibn Alam for not recognizing it.’ He wiped off the last of the sand from his palms. ‘And look. It’s the will of Allah that we’ve returned, safe and sound. Not a scratch on us.’

‘No one will believe your story. You haven’t lost an eye or a leg, you haven’t gained a single scar. Perhaps—’

‘Master! You’ve saved us from diggers and armies and monsters and who knows what else. That we’ve lived is a miracle.’ Said slapped Wahir across the shoulders, making the boy grunt. ‘To say anything else would be ungrateful.’

‘Except,’ said Benzamir, ‘you return as Said and Wahir, man-at-arms and camel boy, and not as the friends of Prince Benzamir Mahmood. I’d like to do something about that if I can.’

‘You won’t ask Ariadne to float over the sheikh’s palace? Please, no. They’ll stone us all.’

‘It’ll look really impressive.’ Benzamir could see Wahir weighing up the idea.

‘It would be a gift too far,’ pleaded Said. ‘Don’t honour us in that way.’

‘I had another idea. A gift that you might accept.’ The lift disc slid down the beach, laden with bolts of cloth. ‘We can bury these above the high-water mark, or stash them in a cave if we can find one. You can collect them later when you’ve got a camel or two in tow.’

Said fingered a deep blue cotton. ‘This is a king’s ransom.’

‘Not really. It leaves me short on azo-dye components, but Ariadne assures me that we’re not going to need them on the way home. You can sell these for a good price, and you’re wise; you’ll know what to do with the money. A business buying and selling. Mahr, even, if you met the right woman.’ He bent down. ‘And for you, too, Wahir. Said will share what he gets with you, but I want to make certain you benefit from this, just in case your father decides that your good fortune should be his alone. Said will look after what’s due to you until you can control it yourself.’

Wahir looked serious as he considered his options. ‘Camels, I think.’

‘I never doubted it for a moment.’

‘Though I don’t think I’ll be like Ali Five-camels. That story was just too strange.’

‘Trust me. You’ll change your mind one day. You’ll want to give five camels and consider it a bargain. Love never counts the cost.’

Pulling a face, Wahir mumbled: ‘I’m too young.’

‘And yet the time will come around, like it or not.’ Benzamir got up again. ‘It’s going to be nightfall in Novy Rostov at this rate.’

‘Ariadne is faster than the fastest bird,’ protested Said.

‘She is, but Novy Rostov is west of here, so it’s mid-afternoon there already.’

Said and Wahir looked sceptically at each other.

‘Ask the imam. He’ll tell you I’m right.’ Benzamir gave up. He hugged Said, slapping him repeatedly on the back, then swept up Wahir and swung him around. Wahir laughed and howled as his heels left the ground. ‘We have to go.’

Va, Elenya and Alessandra gave more circumspect farewells, and Wahir had one last word with Benzamir.

‘I’ll never see you again, will I?’