Mildew switched the lamp off. The room fell into darkness.

The knock came again.

"Can't be Bunker," Ward whispered. "He'd just open it."

The knocking grew louder and more persistant.

"They'll go once they realise he's not here," Mildew she whispered, from beside him now – she must have crept around the desk.

The knocking grew more frantic. Mildew swore.

"I think I know who it is," Ward said. "Come on."

He moved towards the door, holding his hands out before him so he wouldn't crash into it in the dark. His fingertips found it. He felt around for the latch. Mildew, who had been following, bumped into him.

"Sorry," she whispered.

Ward gave an embarrassed little cough, and opened the door to find Lightfinger, just as he had expected. The boy was frantic. He pointed up the tunnel and waved his hands and bounced side to side on the balls of his feet. Clearly Bunker was coming. Ward reached back inside, turned the lock, and pulled the door closed. Then the three of them hurried off up the tunnel in the direction of the Cathedral.

They were only just in time. As they turned a corner Ward heard someone stop outside the office door. They waited until Bunker had gone inside before moving off again.

"Thanks," Ward said to Lightfinger.

The boy nodded in the half-darkness.

When they parted at the Cathedral they said goodbye to each other. Lightfinger frowned at them both. Ward and Mildew were fools – lucky fools, that frown said. Chastened into silence, they went up to the Okies' dorm.

A couple of stray Okies were lounging in the common room. Mildew glanced at them, then at Ward, then nodded in the direction of the girls' dorm. Ward followed her.

Ward had never been in the girls' dorm before, which was separated from the boys' by the common room. Some boys bragged of crossing that threshold on dares, and Ward had been led to believe that certain older Scowerers, some of whom weren't even Okies, had been invited inside from time to time, but details were infuriatingly scant. Ward realised now that this was because there was so little to report. The girls' dorm, apart from being neater, better maintained, and nicer-smelling, was identical to the boys'.

Mildew's room contained a bed, a chair, a chest of drawers, and a dresser in which was set a cracked mirror – this last being the only thing that differentiated her room from his own. Mildew closed the door behind her and sat on the edge of the bed. On the way here her confidence had grown at the same rate Ward's had dwindled, and now, secure in her own space, she adopted a businesslike manner.

"Right, spill the beans."

"Okay," Ward said. "But you have to agree not to tell anyone about this."

"Who do you reckon I am?"

"This is like – like the Oliphant, Mildew. It's dangerous."

"Gotcha."

"If anyone finds out -"

"How about I let you cut out me tongue? That set your mind at ease?"

"There's no -"

"When I say I got it, I got it. Stop blathering."

"Sorry."

"Who else knows?"

"Just Carmen and Slops."

"If I didn't catch ya out would you have tole me?"

Ward opted to ignore the question. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "When I was in Bedlam they took something from me."

"Who?"

"MSI."

"What they take?"

"Dice. A pair of dice. That's all."

"Dice?"

"Yeh."

"No worries. I'll nick you another pair."

"They're one-of-a-kind."

"Ahuh."

"They're -" He decided to err on the side of caution. "Priceless artifacts."

"Ahuh," Mildew said.

"I want them back."

"Course you do," she said, examining her fingernails.

"I think they're in the Arcane Vault," he whispered.

She looked up at that, but her expression didn't change. "Oh, prolly. They sound heretical for sure. Old dice. In they go."

"That's why I was in Nick's office. I want to know how he broke into the Vault. Where it is."

"You coulda just arksed me."

"What?"

"You. Coulda. Just. Arksed. Me." She gave him a smile that was more like a grimace, and he suddenly realised how much he had hurt her by not confiding in her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should have asked you sooner."

"It's okay. I get it."

Ward wanted to say something else, something that would smooth things over, but he could think of nothing that didn't sound lame. He figured the best thing to do was not draw attention to it.

"They're not just dice, are they?" she said.

Ward shook his head.

"They do something."

He nodded.

"Something you didn't think I'd believe."

"I have to have them."

"Ahuh."

"I'm meant to have them."

She looked closely at him. "You remind me of Saint Nick sometimes," she said. Ward couldn't tell if it was praise or criticism.

When it seemed an appropriate amount of time had passed, he said: "So, where's the Arcane Vault?"

"Under Bedlam. Under the prison."

But you knew that all along, didn't you?