The hollowness in his stomach was still there, but he also felt an electric recklessness tingling in his blood, lifting the hairs of his pelt.

‘I know the territory as well as they do,’ Creed said. ‘We’ll be far away before the night is out. Hand over that bauble or I’ll cut it off, and won’t be too careful doing it neither.’

‘Better do as he says,’ Gentle said.

‘I have something more valuable,’ Pilgrim said, and reached behind himself and unhooked one of the sacks of fossils, shook it so it dryly rattled, let it fall to the ground.

‘What’s in it?’ Creed said.

‘Rare and ancient fossils. Collectors in Concord and elsewhere will pay good money for them.’

‘Take a look,’ Creed told Gentle.

‘Why don’t you?’ Gentle said. ‘Since we are equal partners, neither one telling the other what to do.’

The two of them stared at each other. Creed was the first to break, telling Pilgrim this better not be another trick, swinging one leg over his mara’s withers, sliding neatly to the ground. He toed the sack and looked up at Pilgrim and said, ‘If there’s a snake in here I’ll make you eat it.’

‘Does it feel like a snake?’

‘Or a scorpion. I hate those little monsters. On the coast I put my boot on one time and got stung on my big toe.’

‘You have to remember to shake out your boots,’ Gentle said, slow and serious and patient.

‘Like you done everything right your entire life,’ Creed said.

‘No snakes, no scorpions,’ Pilgrim said. ‘Just fossils, as I told you.’

Creed picked up the sack and loosened the string tied around its neck and tipped a clutch of sharks’ teeth into his palm. He poked amongst them, held up the biggest. ‘How much would I get for these?’

‘Let me see it,’ Gentle said, and as Creed turned to him Pilgrim snatched another sack and swung it as hard as he could, feeling the slab of rock – the one printed with the fish tail – crack in two as it smacked into the rump of Gentle’s mara. As the animal bucked and bolted Pilgrim kneed his own mount, but Creed caught its bridle and yanked its head around, stepping with it as it turned in a half-circle and halted.

Still holding the bridle, Creed glared up at Pilgrim, shouting at him, telling him to get down, raising his knife. ‘Get down right now or I’ll cut you bad.’