‘If I can put myself together,’ said Bel, slowly tottering to his feet. He stretched tentatively, favouring his left side. ‘I’ve … got to find a tree. Back in a minute.’

In fact it was late afternoon by the time Clariel had her first sight of Hillfair, the sprawling nest of houses and outbuildings that an Abhorsen of three generations gone by had begun by building a summer lodge on the western ridge that ran along and above the River Ratterlin. Hillfair was three leagues north of the much older and enormously more defensible Abhorsen’s House, but that was smaller and more inconvenient, occupying an island in the river on the very brink of the great waterfall where the Ratterlin fell twelve hundred feet to the lowlands below.

‘There it is,’ said Bel. ‘Hillfair.’

His voice was weak and strained, his lips dry and mouth parched from too much whistling. Though they had generally followed the Ratterlin south for more than two hundred leagues, requiring little change of direction, the vagaries of the wind meant Bel had needed to change altitude. They had also flown much higher approaching High Bridge, to give the place a wide berth in case the town authorities reported their passage or had been ordered to shoot them with the large bolt-throwers that adorned the guard castle there, relics of the long-ago days of Kaelin Scaler and her river pirates.

Clariel leaned around Bel and looked ahead. They were still two or three leagues away, and at that distance Hillfair looked like a small town. There were at least twenty buildings, some of stone and some of wood, spread out on the flat top of the ridge and down to the river, the latter on terraces that had been carved out of the rocky hillside.

‘How many people live here?’ asked Clariel. ‘And how many belong to the family?’

‘Five or six hundred, I guess,’ replied Bel. His voice was scratchy. ‘And at least half that number are Abhorsens, one way or another, though most are distant from the main line. Just call everyone cousin and you’ll be right enough.’

‘It’s a daunting prospect,’ said Clariel. ‘I hope the Abhorsen will let me go soon.’

‘I will fly you to Estwael, if I’m allowed,’ promised Bel. He hesitated, then added, ‘Though I might need a few days’ rest first. I haven’t been this tired since … forever, really.’

‘Thank you,’ said Clariel. ‘I hope I do get to fly with you. You’ve been a good friend.’