Andras is at the gate, which makes me feel more hopeful and more embarrassed at the same time. I’m glad that I’m clean and my skirt is tied neatly over my used-to-be white shift; I’m embarrassed because I’m planning a lie.

‘I want to be listed with the homeless, to be assigned work,’ I tell him.

His face lights up; I can tell he has good news before he says it. ‘I’ve heard the palace needs more servants, now that everything’s calmer and they know what needs doing.’

‘I could be a servant!’

‘Like you used to be, in that town near Tarmara?’ A shared secret as well as a warning – not that I’m likely to forget. We’ve never mentioned our homeland again, and with my sunburned face, rough hands and torn shift, I could easily be a servant. My precious skirt is the only thing that could give me away, and even that is dirty.

‘You’ll have to see the labour guard,’ Andras adds.

‘Aren’t you the guard dog today?’

‘Just for barking, not deciding.’ He grins.

The labour guard is Dogbreath, the bad tempered captain from the first night. ‘I told you before: you can’t register for work or rations if you’re not in the homeless camp,’ he says flatly. ‘How can we know where the workers are, if they’re not all together?’

Even with my plan, the thought of the camp makes me shiver.

‘I can see that doesn’t suit you,’ he says slowly. ‘But I think there’s a way I can help.’

He’s not as nasty as he looks, I think. I am giddy with relief.

My plan is simple: we’ll go to the camp, but after dark on the first night, we’ll escape to our home on the cliff top. Mama and Nunu can stay there, while I appear at the camp first thing every morning. As a maid in the palace I can earn enough rations for them both. They never need to go back to the camp.

‘Andras!’ Dogbreath barks suddenly. ‘Take your turn up at the watch-hill. I can cover the gate without you.’

My friend – can I call a boy a friend? – looks surprised, but salutes us and leaves.

‘I don’t know where you got it, since you’re not priest-women,’ says the guard, once Andras is out of sight, ‘but I’ve seen your mother wearing a gold chain.’

The words chill like a blast of cold north wind.

‘If I had that necklace, I could arrange for you to be on the ration list without being in the camp – and make sure that you serve in a way that’s fitting for you.’

His smile is worse than his usual grumpy face.

No, no, no! That’s Mama’s birthing necklace; Dada gave it to her when she had Glaucus! I can’t take that from her!

How will we survive if I don’t?

Nunu finds a clam shell with a hole in the top, plaits reeds into a cord, and gives Mama her new necklace. Mama loves it. She keeps showing me how pretty it is. She barely notices when I take the gold one from her neck.

‘Don’t cry!’ Nunu snaps at me, wiping her face with the back of her hand. ‘Your mama understands more than you think.’

I go back to the gates. Andras is still nowhere in sight. Dogbreath holds out his hand.

‘For this, I want rations for all three of us when I work.’

He grumbles, but can’t take his eyes off the gold chain. ‘Rations for three,’ he agrees, and I drop the necklace into his hand. He tucks it into a pouch on his belt.

I will not cry in front of him.

He’s grinning again. The north-wind feeling returns.

‘I said I’d send you where it’s fitting, and I’ll keep my promises. It’s not right for you to be in the palace, after what the chief and Lady decreed. Did you think I’d forgotten where you said you’d come from? The place for you is the purple works, where no one knows or cares who you were before. I’ll put the three of you on their ration list for tomorrow – be there at sunrise.’

I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!

I didn’t know I could feel so much rage against one person. It feels as if I’ve swallowed the great mother’s fire and am about to spew it all over him.

But I can’t. I have to swallow the fire down again, no matter how sick it makes me, because that’s the only way we’ll survive.