There’s a question in there and I don’t want to think about the answer. When we’ve finished this, got the heartwood house built and thatched and all done, everything in its right place, what happens to Bardán? Does he get his pay like the rest of us and head off home? Does he walk away into the forest and vanish? Or does he hang about Wolf Glen muttering his rhymes and singing his songs and asking about his daughter, the one he killed but doesn’t know it? What’ll Tóla do to him when I’m gone?

It’s night. I’m lying on my straw mattress, under my blanket. Done my exercises over and over till every part of me aches. Head full of rubbish, worries and memories and snippets I’ve heard. We’re so close to the end, crew won’t be needed at all soon, only one or two men to help me with the thatching. Sometimes I’ve thought the job would never get finished. Now it feels like it’s gone almost too quick. Been almost too easy. What I’m thinking of most is the times Bardán’s done that odd laugh, like he’s got a secret. Like there’s something important about this and he’s the only one who knows it. Put that together with how much he and Tóla hate each other and you’ve got trouble.

Can’t ask him straight out. Got to go into it another way.

‘You awake?’

‘Mm-hm.’

‘Just thinking. We’ll be thatching soon. Is that as tricky as the rest of the build?’

‘Tricky enough.’

‘Wanted to ask something. When I’m doing a whole roof myself, I like finishing off with some creatures for the top. Weave them out of straw, tie them on tight.’ I was proud of those animals I made for the scriptorium at St Olcan’s. Though two of them ended up with a bit of a fey finish. ‘Last time, for a monastery, I did salmon, dove, raven and fox. Up here, maybe some birds.’ I’m thinking of those birds that came when Cara was down in that dark place. That was odd. It was odd enough to make a man think something uncanny was in play. ‘Crow, owl, couple of others. What do you think?’

‘You won’t need those,’ Bardán says.

Odd way to put it. ‘More a case of liking than needing,’ I say. ‘Ever seen a roof done that way? The creatures look nice up there. Gives a sort of rightness to the place. And . . . well, it feels like good luck.’

I think he’s not going to answer. I think he may have dropped off to sleep. Then I hear a kind of low chuckling. Makes the hairs on my neck stand on end. That laugh, the secret laugh.

‘Forget I asked,’ I say.