The Equen Queen
beneath them. Tab stayed at the back of the group and at one of the footbridges there was a side alley. She ducked behind a post, pretending to be curious about one of the buildings in case she was spotted. She waited until she heard Stelka's voice fade away in the distance.
    It was easy to know which way to go. Tab followed the buzzing in her head as it changed pitch. At the end of the alley she turned right, then left, then right again. She saw two sky-traders heading her way and ducked into one of the dome-shaped buildings. It was stacked high with bolts of fabric – an easy place to hide.
    After the sky-traders passed she followed a few more alleys until she found an odd contraption at the base of a mast that she had never seen before. After experimenting with it for a while she could see that it ran on a counterweight system, similar to the one that operated the portcullis on Quentaris's City Gate. The small platform would carry you up the mizzenmast, past the next level of lanes, and on up to the crossjack.
    She pushed the lever and headed up to the next storey. Here the buzzing in her head was much louder, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the pain as the platform rose up. She stepped out and followed the ache over the footbridge. She stumbled along until she reached a door. Tab pressed her hand against the door, and the ache in her head thrummed.
    Stepping back she looked up at the pyramid-shaped building. There was an opening about halfway up. If she climbed up there she would be able to see inside. She would have to be quick. Although there weren't many sky-traders in the streets, there were others in the rigging and it was only a matter of time before one of them looked down and saw her spying. Tab shimmied up as quietly as she could. She gripped the edge of the window, feeling all the muscles in her shoulders straining.
    Inside three sky-trader magicians sat cross-legged on the floor. Between them was a metal tray full of coloured sand. One drew symbols in the sand with her fingers, while the others chanted incantations.
    Tab felt her hand slip. Her other hand shook with the strain of holding her whole weight. Her foot thumped against the side of the building as she struggled to hang on. One of the magicians looked around, her concentration broken.
    Tab gasped. All at once her head was filled with a sound, but it wasn't sound exactly. She let go and slid down the side of the pyramid, arms flailing. At the bottom she somersaulted twice and thumped against the base of the building opposite. Dizzy and disoriented, she crawled into a narrow space behind a nearby footbridge pylon.

     
    One of the magicians came to the doorway, looking up and down the street.
    Tab curled up into a tight ball, covering her ears with her hands. Sorrow flooded through her. It was as though the emotion was a solid thing pressing against her, and making it hard to breathe.
    It reminded Tab of a feeling she had a long time ago when she had a toothache that throbbed and reverberated through her head. It gave her a fever. She had been delirious and in such pain that she hadn't been able to think of anything else. She had thought it would never end. Tab would have cut off her own head if she had thought it would have made the pain stop.
    Then the magician disappeared. Soon Tab could hear the murmur of their chant begin again and the sensation went away, replaced again by the buzzing, rubbing sandpaper feeling.
    Tab realised it was the sky-trader magicians who were blocking her ability, and no wonder, after what she had felt. She was about to slide out of her hideyhole when she heard muffled voices approaching.
    ‘… don't seem to have any uniform discipline programs for their children, schools or military training,’ a voice was saying. ‘The guilds are divided. They will be easy to subdue. The damnable thing is that they were telling the truth about their resources. Quentaris has nothing of value to us.’
    ‘It will be best to
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