This’d better be good, he grumbled to himself as he went in search of his da.

Drem found him sitting on the steps of their cabin, looking out onto the courtyard as dawn leached into the world. His da had been quiet, impenetrably so since the fight. He’d been troubled and withdrawn before that, thinking on the lump of black rock that he’d buried in the paddock, but since the fight Drem had felt as if he was living on his own.

‘You all right, Da?’ Drem said as he sat down beside him, shivering as a cold wind clawed his skin. His da just pointed into the distance, into the darkness. Drem frowned. There was a light, flickering small and bright in the ink-black of night.

‘What?’ Drem whispered. ‘Is that a fire? In the Bonefells?’

‘Would have to be a big fire,’ his da said, a frown turning his face into a place of deep-shadowed valleys.

‘Don’t like the look of that,’ Drem muttered. Absently, he pressed fingers to his neck, found the soothing rhythm of his pulse.

‘And look, there,’ Olin said, twisting to point to the southwest. There was another pinprick of light, smaller and fainter than the first.

They turned back and watched the closer flame in silence as dawn pushed back the night, shadows solidifying, then slowly dissolving as darkness retreated before light, the fire up in the Bonefells dimming with the coming of the sun in a grey, cloud-bloated sky.

Looks like snow, Drem thought, his breath misting.

‘All my life I’ve tried to protect you,’ his da said, breaking the silence. ‘Ever since your mam . . .’ A muscle in his jaw twitched and he pinched his nose. ‘I swore to keep you from harm. To keep you from war, from the evil that men do. Not just men – other things.’

Aye, you’ve watched over me every step. But what is it you’re so scared of? What is it you’re protecting me from? What does ‘other things’ mean?

‘The Kadoshim?’ Drem whispered.

Olin shrugged. ‘Aye. And their kin.’ A silence settled between them again, Drem’s da clearly thinking on the past. Drem wanted to prompt him to speak, but feared to rush him, knew that his da could easily go the other way. He liked to hear him talking like this, so he took a long, steady breath and concentrated on controlling his frustration.

‘That’s why we have travelled, kept moving, just you and me, Drem,’ his da said with a sigh. He reached out a hand and patted his son’s knee. ‘And it’s worked, so far. For sixteen years I’ve kept us moving, running ahead of the tide. But it’s remorseless.’

‘What tide, Da? Running from what?’

‘I’ve told you,’ Olin said, waving his hand vaguely towards the south.

‘Never straight, you haven’t. More in riddles than facts.’