The Keeper made an exasperated sound in the direction of the Master, sat down again and took the glass I offered her. Straightening the scale armour that she and the Master wore whenever on duty, she inhaled and took a sip. Another lightning-fast exchange in the language of raptors occurred. I handed the Master his glass, put the tray down and quietly shut the door behind me.

For the next hour, I busied myself supervising the departure of Tallis with his two Gearwing companions. There was a lot to do, not least because of the conditions outside. The thick layers of chainmail and plate armour constituting heavy gear would keep Tallis stable against buffeting winds, but would also make manoeuvring difficult and sap his stamina.

Then there were the Gearwings to take care of. They were exceedingly intelligent, tireless and uncannily farsighted, but they were also precision instruments with narrow tolerances and a voracious appetite for spring tension.