‘What you said. Before.’ And after a moment, ‘Please.’

I went outside, shutting the door behind me, to find Donagan and one of the prince’s men-at-arms dismounting. Donagan was one of the few who knew the strange truth about what had befallen Flidais at Dreamer’s Pool. He had stood by Prince Oran in times of great difficulty. And he’d been kind to Grim. Courtier though he was, I viewed him as a friend.

‘Cara’s here, Donagan,’ I said straight out. ‘She’s safe. But we’ve just sat down to a brew, and I need to talk to her privately. Can I bring you two a cup?’

‘Thank you, Mistress Blackthorn,’ Donagan said, his crooked smile telling me far more than he was prepared to say. ‘That is a great relief. Don’t bother with the brew. We’re happy to wait out here and rest the horses. Is Grim somewhere about?’

‘Away on a job. All day.’ I remembered, just in time, that it might not be wise to mention he was at Wolf Glen. From what Grim had told me, the situation up there was odd and the landholder had placed all kinds of restrictions on what could be said and to whom. Add the fact that the same landholder’s daughter was currently in my house and behaving oddly herself, and it seemed best to keep my mouth shut about the whole strange affair.

‘In demand,’ Donagan said.

‘In high demand. Word gets around quickly when a man’s a good worker.’

At first, when I went back inside, I thought Cara had given me the slip, fled out the back door and off into Dreamer’s Wood. But no; she was standing in a corner, in the shadows, with something cupped in her hands. She was holding one of Grim’s little carvings, a hedgehog done with meticulous care, right down to the suggestion of prickles and an enquiring expression on its beady-eyed features. The girl’s wary look was gone; now her face was all wonder and tenderness. For a moment, the beauty in that expression stopped my heart.

‘My friend made it,’ I said. ‘The one who lives here with me. Grim, his name is.’

Cara stroked the little creature with one finger, as gently as if it were alive. ‘I make things too,’ she whispered. ‘At home. I used to.’

If I asked too many questions, and there were plenty I could think of, chances were she’d go silent again and we would get nowhere. ‘I’d enjoy hearing about that,’ I said. ‘But only if you want to tell me. Come, let’s sit down and finish this brew.’

She sat, the hedgehog still in her hands. I sipped my tea and held my tongue. This girl was something of a puzzle. Despite my dislike of complications, she intrigued me.