'I'm going back,' he said. She stared at him. 'But we've only just arrived! Why on earth-?' 'I don't know. It's all wrong here. It just feels wrong. I keep thinking that if I stay here any longer I'll stop believing there's anything outside, and I was born there. When I've got you all settled down I'm going out again. You can come if you like,' he added, 'but you don't have to.' 'But it's warm and there's all this food!' 'I said I couldn't explain. I just feel we're being, well, watched.' Instinctively she stared upwards at the ceiling a few inches above them. Back home anything watching them usually meant something was thinking about lunch. Then she remembered her­self, and gave a nervous laugh.

'Don't be silly,' she said.

'I just don't feel safe,' he said wretchedly.

'You mean you don't feel wanted,' said Grimma quietly.

'What?' 'Well, isn't that true? You spend all your time scrimping and scraping for everyone, and then you don't need to any more. It's a funny feeling, isn't it.' She swept away.

Masklin stood and fiddled with the binding on his spear. Odd, he thought. I never thought any­one else would think like that. He had a few dim recollections of Grimma in the hole, always doing laundry or organizing the old women or trying to cook whatever it was he managed to drag home. Odd. Fancy missing something like that.

He became aware that the rest of them had stopped. The underfloor stretched away ahead of them, lit dimly by small lights fixed to the wood here and there. Ironmongri charged highly for the lights, Angalo said, and wouldn't let anyone else into the secret of controlling the electric. It was one of the things that made the Ironmongri so powerful.

'This is the edge of Haberdasheri territory at the moment,' he said. 'Over there is Millineri country. We're a bit cool with them at the moment. Er. You're bound to find some department to take you in... 'He looked at Grimma.