Janu could have skipped back to their meeting point with Ilarion, he was so happy to have found Heketas. An electric undercurrent ran through him, his every fibre straining for the challenge of the heist to come. With any luck the former guard would furnish them with enough details to bring a good plan together. With any luck, this would all work out.

They stayed the night in the inn Ilarion had picked out – fancier than Janu would have opted for, but not fancy enough that guests from non-core kingdoms would be sneered at. Contrary to Janu’s expectation, Galnai seemed more at ease in his company now she had told her story. She even asked him a couple of questions about his time with the dragons once Heketas had gone to bed. Ilarion’s answers, illustrated by his copious notes, consumed the remainder of that evening.

Early the next morning, the four of them dressed and made their way out into the streets. Long shadows swept across the paving stones before them. When Janu squinted into the sunrise, he found the dusky forms of four dragons patrolling Chorus’ skies.

‘They really watch you from all directions in this city, don’t they?’ Janu said.

Heketas followed his gaze. ‘They can’t see shit from up there unless they’re turning. Backs too broad. They’re mostly for show, or if anyone calls ‘em.’

With his head cocked to the sky, Ilarion said, ‘I would have thought they could see via the bond. I didn’t think to ask if it worked like that.’

‘Who’d you even ask?’

Ilarion shrugged. ‘Friend of a friend.’

They had agreed to keep Heketas’ information limited, for now. He didn’t need to know they were working for the dragons, just that they were working to hurt the empire by freeing them, and that they needed to get into the palace to do that. He certainly didn’t need to know they were the cause of the missing princess. Janu hadn’t noticed it in the poorer quarters – perhaps disgruntled locals had painted over them – but many of the streets here had Popilia’s likeness painted on the walls with requests for information on her whereabouts. A man might hate the empire, but value money more. Janu didn’t know if Heketas was that kind of man.

Two tributary rivers connected the River Kim, where they had arrived, to the imperial palace. Following one of these rivers through the richer districts made for an easy route. Bright flowering trees and shrubs lined the paths. When they reached the temple district, a ceiling of silk canopies greeted them. They stretched from one side of the river path to the other, each colour tinting the clean stone beneath. A far cry from even the richest districts of Athon.

Eventually they emerged in the broad park in front of the palace and stopped there, gawking.

Heketas gave them all a toothy grin. ‘Tourists.’

Janu had heard of the palace: that this park was built on a solid bed of rock with tonnes of soil layered over it; that the rock was marble, and that’s why the lake was called the Marble Basin. He hadn’t really believed it, or pictured it. But there the palace sat, its long colonnades shimmering in a heat haze, a dome in each corner, a forest of minarets bristling within the walls, flanking the dome of the throne room. A near-perfect reflection of its grandeur sat upon the surface of the lake, its waters the blue of polished turquoise. From time to time a ripple broke its image.

‘Is it true they keep serpents in the lake?’ Janu asked.

‘Oh, very true.’ Heketas gestured for them to keep moving. ‘You might see a few as we walk. Come on.’

Thankful for an easy ruse – it was common enough to take a walk around the edge of the lake, thanks to the park – Janu trailed along behind Heketas. Beneath the notes of fading spring blossoms, soil and grass, something musty permeated the air. It smelled familiar, though Janu couldn’t place it. Similar to horse, but somehow dustier.

Beside him, Ilarion drew a deep breath and said without hesitation, ‘Smells like dragon.’

Heketas turned and raised an eyebrow as he walked. ‘Well you won’t be smelling the barracks out here, unless it’s shit you’re smelling. This’ll be the serpents.’

‘I’ve heard they’re related.’

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Shrugging, Heketes said, ‘Do I look like a dragon expert to you?’ Then he pointed to the water by the side of the palace they were walking parallel to. ‘It’s stronger on this side, the smell. Not sure why. One of the gardeners said it’s because there’s a warm spot under the lake there, but it’s not like anyone goes swimming in it to check, so I reckon he was talking piss.’ His face turned thoughtful. ‘Steam does come off it in winter, mind.’

Janu turned his words over in his mind while they walked the rest of the length of the lakeside. It wouldn’t surprise him if the palace had underfloor heating in the form of a hypocaust, but for the heat to be localised in one point of the lake would mean there were rooms underground, and only on this side. Possible, but unlikely. And he couldn’t think of a way to turn it to their advantage – even if they could swim down there, it’s not like they would find a door set into the bottom of the lake.

‘Do you know what it is you’re after, anyway?’ asked Heketas. ‘There aren’t many ways into the palace. Knowing where you want to go will help.’

Ilarion gave him the same details he had given them back in Kimah-Kur: an ancient horn with detailed inscriptions, likely in the possession of Critobulus.

Heketas spat on the ground at the mention of the sorcerer’s name. ‘You’ll have a hard time of that, then.’

‘How so?’ Janu asked.

Their walk had taken them fully along one side of the palace and its lake, so they turned along the next edge as Heketas shook his head.

‘There’s a special guard watch I’d get assigned, now and then. Critobulus does most of his work two levels down on a floor solely for his use. His room’s directly beneath the chamber of magic, but there’s something else down there. I never saw him go in, just heard about it from other shifts, and sometimes he’d just... appear, out of nowhere. Wherever it is, the entrance is hidden. It’s all carved out of the bedrock down there, and it’s newer than the palace. I reckon he designed it himself.’

‘You’ve not seen the artefact anywhere else?’

Again, Heketas shook his head. ‘They’ve got a lot of fancy stuff on display in there. Lots of stuff to guard and lots of stuff to look at when you’re bored. I’d have remembered seeing it. No, I reckon Critobulus likes his treasures like he likes his women: as many as he can get, all to hisself.’

At this rate, it sounded like Critobulus kept the artefact on his bedside table for the viewing pleasure of his little harem. Perhaps he kept all three in his mysterious dungeon. At least if the guards didn’t know how to get in, they weren’t likely to be, well, guarding it.

He eyed the palace again. Now they walked along the rear wall, the twin gold-tipped minarets and large dome that formed the throne room loomed large over the palace walls. Their real problem would be getting through all of that to reach their destination. Just getting into the palace would be difficult enough, but Critobulus had set up shop about as far from any entrance as he could.

They crossed a painted bridge over one of the thin tributary rivers that filled the lake and went on to join the River Kim. A ripple on the lake’s surface caught Janu’s attention. When he looked, he caught the curve of a scaled back slipping beneath the surface.

‘How do you recommend we get in, then?’ Galnai asked. Her jaw had set in hard lines – a sure sign she was growing impatient.

Heketas drew a deep breath, then pointed to the middle of the outer colonnade, where a wide archway made a gap. ‘In the middle there, under the waterline, there’s a grate that lets water into the lowest level. No idea why. I think Critobulus needed it for something. But that’s the quickest way to get in.’

‘And I’m guessing those serpents would find us a tasty snack if we tried to swim.’

‘That’s why they’re there. Certainly not for show. They stink up the place and leave their skins all over the southwest shore. And the prison likes to feed them their murderers and rapists, from time to time.’ Heketas shuddered. ‘It’s not nice to watch.’

Ilarion stepped up to the water’s edge, playing with one end of his moustache. ‘It would be a long swim, anyway. We couldn’t go by boat without being spotted, but we can’t hold our breath for that long either. And we’ll have gear to carry, I assume.’

Janu eyed the water. Seething with the passage of serpents beneath, it awakened a memory in him of times long past, back in Avesh before it split. Drakfish swam in the shallow swamp waters there. A woman had lived near them, her home as much a part of the swamp as the trees, her livelihood formed of its fruits and the magic needed to get them.

‘If you give me enough time,’ Janu said, ‘I can solve the swimming issue. But I’m not so sure about the serpents.’

Heketas looked over and scratched his chin. ‘Well, if you have plenty of time, you can always wait for the full moon.’

‘What’s so special about that?’ If anything, that was the worst time to break in, with the night bathed in light. Even if they kept beneath the water, they still had to get in in the first place, and someone would surely spot them.

‘There’s something about the serpents and the moon. No idea what, but they fixate on it. Go into a sort of trance. People like to come to the lake to watch it, so it won’t look odd to be about at night. And the serpents’ll probably be too distracted to try eating you.’

‘Probably?’ Galnai scoffed.

‘Look, I’ve given you what I have. They built this place for security as well as looks. You won’t be able to get in by any other route and you’re all – we’re all – too foreign to even try getting jobs inside. You want to try sneaking through the whole palace? Be my guest. But if that’s the case, I won’t be coming with you.’

Janu spoke before anyone else could. ‘That’s okay. We’ll take your route. But we need one more person for this to work. We need to hire a water witch.’