Slammer’s got her by the hair. Hands tied behind her back. She tries to fight but he forces her down on her knees. Everyone’s yelling, cursing, me loudest of all. We know what’s coming. Seen it before. Let her go! Take your filthy hands off her! But he pushes her head down, shoves her face in the bucket. Water would be bad enough. This isn’t water.

I smash my fists into the bars till they’re raw and bloody. Counting how long she’s under, how long before she has to take a breath. One . . . two . . . three . . . The others go quiet. Me, I’m still yelling. My whole body’s shouting. You filthy scum! I’ll rip your head from your body! Get her out, you vermin, get her out now! But I’m locked in, I can’t reach her, I can’t save her.

He lets her up. She gasps and splutters, face streaming with the vile stuff from the slop bucket, and then he pushes her back in again. One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . I stop yelling. You’re strong, I whisper. You can do this. Hold your breath, Lady. I hold mine. Hold it till my chest’s aching. He lets her up. She chokes, wheezes, fights to suck in air. ‘Filthy slut!’ says Slammer, and pushes her straight back down. No! Got tears running all down my face. No! Get her out! I belt my head against the bars till I nearly pass out. Get her out, Slammer, you piece of shit! Ten . . . eleven . . . twelve . . . He gets her out. Lays her on the floor. Picks up the bucket and pours the slops in her face. A roar comes out of me like thunder. Like the noise of the end of the world. Lady! Feels like I’m crying blood. Lady!

Someone puts a hand on my shoulder. I jump as if I’ve been hit. Get your filthy hands off me or I’ll –

‘Grim. Wake up.’

She’s dead. She’s gone. I’ll rip that man limb from limb. I’ll –

‘Wake up, brother. It’s me, Bardán. Grim, open your eyes. Take a breath. That’s the man. You’re here. You’re safe.’

Ripple’s tongue, warm and wet, licking my hand. Moonlight shows me her silvery fur, her bright eyes. Bardán’s worried face. I try to breathe. Try to stop sobbing. Morrigan’s curse. Never been so pleased to wake up.

Someone’s thumping on the wall, calling out from next door. ‘Shut it, will you?’

‘Breathe now,’ says Bardán. ‘Take your time. You’re safe. You’re back.’

‘Shit,’ I wheeze. ‘Oh, shit. What was I . . .?’

Bardán sits down beside me. Ripple on the other side. ‘You were somewhere bad,’ Bardán says. ‘Take it slowly, Grim. You’re all right now.’