Rudd ambled to the tree’s base, the few stiff hairs of his hackles the only sign of his simmering temper. He clambered upward, pulled himself onto the chest of the corpse and rummaged with one hand beneath the rotted shirt. He plucked loose a tattered, soiled piece of cloth. Unfolding it, he frowned.

Irp’s voice rose from below. ‘What is it?’

‘A name’s written on here.’

‘Whose?’

Rudd shrugged. ‘“Sa’yless Lorthal.’”

‘That’s a woman’s name. He’s not a woman, is he?’

‘Of course not!’ Rudd snapped. A moment later he tucked the cloth back under the shirt. ‘Mortals are strange,’ he muttered, as he began searching beneath the shirt again. He quickly found what he sought, and drew forth a small bottle of smoky glass.

‘Well?’ Irp demanded.

‘It broke all right,’ Rudd said with satisfaction. ‘I can see the cracks.’ He leaned forward and bit through the thong, then, clutching the bottle in one hand, scrambled back down. Crouched at the base, he held the bottle to the sun and squinted through it.

Irp grunted.

Rudd then held the bottle against one pointed ear and shook it. ‘Ah! He’s in there all right!’

‘Good, let’s go—’

‘Not yet. The body comes with us. Mortals are particular that way – he won’t want another. So, go get it, Irp.’

‘There’s nothing left of the damned thing!’ Irp squawked.

‘Right, then it won’t weigh much, will it?’

Grumbling, Irp climbed the tree and began pulling out the spikes.

Rudd listened to his grunts with satisfaction, then he shivered. ‘Hurry up, damn you! It’s eerie around here.’

The Jhag’s eyes fluttered open and slowly focused on the wide, bestial face looking down on him. Puzzled recognition followed. ‘Mappo Trell. My friend.’

‘How do you feel, Icarium?’

He moved slightly, winced. ‘I – I am injured.’

‘Aye. I’m afraid I gave away my last two elixirs, and so could not properly heal you.’

Icarium managed a smile. ‘I am certain, as always, that the need was great.’

‘You may not think so, I’m afraid. I saved the lives of two dogs.’

Icarium’s smile broadened. ‘They must have been worthy beasts. I look forward to that tale. Help me up, please.’

‘Are you certain?’

‘Yes.’

Mappo supported Icarium as he struggled to his feet. The Jhag tottered, then found his balance. He raised his head and looked around. ‘Where – where are we?’

‘What do you remember?’

‘I – I remember nothing. No, wait. We’d sighted a demon – an aptorian, it was, and decided to follow it. Yes, that I recall. That.’

‘Ah, well, we are far to the south, now, Icarium. Cast out from a warren. Your head struck a rock and you lost consciousness. Following that aptorian was a mistake.’

‘Evidently. How – how long?’

‘A day, Icarium. Just a day.’