'You'll pay!' he snarled. 'You evil, vicious traitor. You'll never stop paying until the day you die. Get up.'

Tiaan was incapable of moving. She was a traitor. She had betrayed her world.

He nudged her in the ribs with a boot toe. 'Move, artisan.'

She heaved, gasped and fell down. Whatever he had once felt for her, it was long gone. All she could see was contempt.

'I loathe you, artisan,' he said through clenched teeth. 'With every bone of my body I despise you. My father is a mutilated horror because of you.'

She could never forget that terrible battle on the edge of the plateau. Nish's father, Perquisitor Jal-Nish Hlar, had been struck down by a lyrinx, his face, arm and chest torn apart by its claws.

Nish lifted her to her feet by the ropes, then had to hold her up. To Tiaan's shame, her breasts were exposed through the rags of her blouse. When Nish did not even glance down, she truly knew she was finished.

'Don't try to play on my better side.' He thrust his face against hers. 'After seeing the doom you brought upon our world yesterday, I have none. Move!' He prodded her toward the stairs.

'I can't go down,' she said, staggering. 'I'll fall.'

He looked around, spying another stair in the dim distance. 'That way then. It'll give you time to recover.'

'Hadn't you better warn your companions?' she croaked, hoping to discover how many there were.

'I have none, only Ullii -' He broke off. 'My first thought was for my duty. I've already sent a message to the manufactory, by skeet, warning the scrutator of the invasion.' He calculated. 'It's two hundred leagues as the skeet flies. And it flies fast: the message should be there tonight.'

'I'm glad,' she said, not that they could do much about such a mighty force of Aachim. So, she only had these two to deal with. There must come a chance, on the long journey back.