‘But what happened back then with John wasn’t quite the same as the story, was it? It wasn’t as if everyone agreed it was a good idea to try and cross the Dark, and John was just rushing ahead. Everyone told him it was a bad idea. In fact he was told he mustn’t even talk about it.’

Again Mary turned to look at me.

‘How do you know he was told that, dearest? It was – what? – two hundred forty years ago, near enough, and you weren’t there!’

‘No, but I thought that . . .’

But of course, I didn’t know. There was no way I could know what really happened all those years ago. I just felt like I knew because I’d been brought up with a certain story about those times, a story that Jeff and his followers had told their kids long ago, and their kids had passed on to us through the generations. And of course Jeff was one of the ones who’d chosen to go with John. He wouldn’t be likely to say that it had all been a silly mistake. There really was no reason why his version should be any truer than Mehmet’s.

‘Are you angry with me, Mary?’ I asked her later, after we’d been riding in silence for some time.

The last tree had been left behind us now, and the only light came from the headlanterns of the four woollybucks, lighting up the strange furry forms of the guide and the two guards.

‘Why would I be angry with you, sweetheart?’

‘For asking why this is called David’s Path?’

Mary gave that loud bright laugh. ‘No of course not, darling. I like the way you ask questions. That’s good in a shadowspeaker. We have to work with people who don’t understand the True Story and help them understand it. Remember those Hiding People and their giant bat woman? Remember that sweet old woman by the White Streams with her children’s stories about Earth? We need to think of all the questions that people might ask and wonder about, and learn to answer them without getting upset.’

She liked the way I asked questions: Mary said that again later on when we were in Circle Valley, the first time I went into the Circle by myself to listen for the voice of Gela. ‘Let your mind go quiet,’ she said, ‘and then ask questions. You’re good at asking questions, after all! You know how much I like that. Ask questions and listen for our Mother’s answer. And, whatever you do, don’t go worrying about whether you’re good enough, because that will just get in your way. You are good enough, Angie, remember that! I know you are, and what’s more I know for certain that Mother Gela thinks the same.’