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"If I’m there, if I’m – if there’s no need to hunt me, then they won’t hunt you. I have to go."

During the chorus of protest which followed, Emily burrowed into Madeleine’s side, murmuring something. The words were indistinct, but it was sure to be some variation of all for one. Then Min tossed a screwed-up piece of paper at Madeleine, bouncing it off her forehead.

"Sorry to rain on your self-sacrifice parade, but if you give yourself up, you’re giving the rest of us up at the same time. As soon as you’re possessed they’ll know where we are. Can the melodrama and drink your damn tea. You’re in shock."

"Minnow, you make the best speeches," Pan said, wrapping his arms around Min’s neck. Min shoved him away, and they wrestled briefly, a flurry which had more relief than anger in it. It lightened the atmosphere, and Madeleine made herself sip obediently, then remembered her hunger and drank thirstily.

"Under no circumstances."

Fisher breathed the words into her ear as she lowered the mug, and when she looked at him a great many thoughts which fit neither time nor place rushed to the forefront of her mind. She had no idea what her face showed, but the betraying colour of Fisher’s ears revealed his mind had followed a similar course.

"Right, as I was saying," Noi said, too serious for more than the faintest smile in their direction. "Running away. Anyone have any arguments against it?"

"It’s the most dangerous option," Fisher said, firmly. "Don’t underestimate the difficulty of finding a route unseen when we’re the only cars moving, and every Green is primed to expect an escape. I’m not certain we could even drive off this Wharf without setting off the first alert. And if we get out of the city centre, it won’t only be the stained we’re hiding from. The whole of Australia will now be highly aware of the probability of Madeleine running, and as soon as she’s spotted it’s almost inevitable that someone in their excitement will tweet or post or share the news in some way."

"We could use that," Nash pointed out. "Create accounts. Post and tweet sightings. Very likely there are already false reports, errors of identity. Add to that to send Moths running in every direction."

"Good idea." Fisher looked approving. "We should do that anyway. But camera phones will highlight the true trail even if we manage to break the cordon. We have a head start, but we’ve also had a demonstration of the dragons' capabilities."

"I don’t see how that’s more dangerous than staying in Sydney with a hundred and fifty-five hunters and their Blue-sniffing glow dogs," Noi said.

"We’ve confirmed the Rovers are used to track. It’s a reasonable assumption to believe they home in some way on the energy Blues create. That gives us three options: gain distance, obscure like with like, or containment."

Fisher paused, and they all looked at the television, where Madeleine’s face was displayed, circled, on her last class photograph.

"Distance is the option the Moths will have prepared for, and thus where we will face the greatest opposition. But if they track the energy we produce, moving as close as possible to the largest energy source around, a place where a large number of Blues will be gathered, may have the effect of hiding a lamp by placing it in a room full of chandeliers."

"You mean sitting next to the Spire?" Noi’s brows lifted. "Somehow standing around Hyde Park doesn’t strike me as – oh, I get you. Maddie came out of the rail tunnels from St James, so we know we can access the Spire that way. You want to trace her path back, and sit beneath the Moths' feet while they run around in circles."

"St James even has dead-end tunnels concealed behind false walls," Fisher said. "It’s a gamble, of course. The energy created by a free Blue may be distinctive enough to distinguish despite proximity to the Spire and Mothed Blues. Or they may be guarding the tunnels."

"And containment would be, what, putting ourselves in a box? Something sturdier than the study?"

"Walk-in refrigerators," Fisher said. "Air-tight, insulated, offering an all-round metal shield. What few escape stories there’s been from still-free Blues in Rover cities have all shared a shielding factor – those deep in subways, someone hiding in the back of a container truck. But again a gamble, and it would be too great a risk to use those at the Wharf restaurants, even if they’re large enough, since the local Blues and Greens will link you to Finger Wharf. Size is a major factor, more than a question of how many of us can fit. We’ll need sufficient oxygen for at minimum twelve hours, if not twenty-four. The previous two challenges don’t give us enough information to know if there’s a time limit, but it is clear that the Moths have a territorial, hierarchical culture. The whole challenge appears to be an attempt to steal a…" He paused. "…to steal a highly desirable Blue from a clan which hasn’t yet claimed her."

"Hot property?" Min offered Madeleine a sympathetic grimace. "I’d ask how it feels to be a penthouse on The Peak, but your impersonation of a Green says it all."

"There is no guarantee containment will block the trackers, and we would need to reach a suitable place which isn’t occupied by Moths," Fisher continued. "I have a possibility in mind outside the area they’ve been using – that new hotel which was due to open at Barangaroo on the fifteenth. Like Circular Quay, it’s accessible from the waterfront."

"Well, we’re not going anywhere while it’s daylight, so we don’t have to decide right away," Noi said, rubbing her forehead. "Driving off the Wharf would be a huge risk, so we’ll strongly consider the boat option first. Pack what you can easily carry and stash anything we can’t take with us into the study. Nash, can you take the binoculars and search for movement while it’s still light, particularly any sign of those navy ships? And also look over our boating prospects?"

When Nash nodded, she went on: "Fisher, if you, Millie and Min can scare up any images on the public webcams of any of the directions we might head, that will help with our choices. Pan, when it hits early dusk, not dark, go out and see if you can finger-punch the lights over the north end of the marina."

"Mindless vandalism is my forte," Pan said, his spirits recovering with the prospect of action. "Guess we’d better wait till after midnight for the great escape? Let the Greens get sleepy?"

"After three," Fisher said. He glanced at Madeleine. "After the moon has set."

Would they ever have another moment in the moonlight? "I’ll help with the cooking," Madeleine said, scarcely feeling real.

"First check the apartments for gloves, hats, anything which looks useful for a boating trip in this weather. Right. Let’s get started."

Fisher rose with the rest, but only to sit on the coffee table in front of Madeleine, brows drawn together in concentration. Madeleine, half out of her seat, dropped back down, and looked at him uncertainly.

"I wish I could make you promises," Fisher said. "But I don’t want to downplay the danger we’re in. I’d like you to make a promise to me, however."

"What is it?"

"Fight. Always fight. No matter how impossible the odds, no matter who you’ve lost, how you’ve been hurt. If there doesn’t seem to be a way out, look for one. If you seem to have come to an end, start afresh. Never, ever give up."

She stared at him, startled by the anger, the complex swell of emotion in his voice.

"You don’t think your plan has a chance?"

Fisher looked away. "The Cores will almost certainly participate. Those of the higher ranked clans are sure to be stronger than the Moths we’ve previously encountered. And tomorrow is just one day of two years. It’s what comes after which frightens me most of all."