‘I’m fine,’ he said and stood up, only to sit heavily back down again as his legs refused to support him.

‘You’re not fine. You can’t even stand up. Here. Drink this.’ She handed him a water cask, filled with a muddy brown liquid.

‘What’s this?’ he asked.

‘It will help you sleep.’

‘I don’t want to sleep.’

‘Well, you should.’

‘Well, I don’t want to.’

‘I’m not going to treat you like a child just because you’re acting like one.’

‘She’s right. You need to take it easy,’ said Colby, as Albert turned to glare at him. ‘I’m just saying.’

‘Look, none of us has time for this, Albert,’ said June, ‘so I’ll make it easy for you. You have no idea what you’re going to do once you get done with this show of bravery and, frankly, you’re in no shape to do anything in the first place. You might be able to stagger your way out of this tent, but that’s pretty much all you’re capable of at the moment.’

He opened his mouth to argue, and then fell back on the cushions. She was right, just the effort of sitting up and arguing with them had made the tent spin around all over again. His head was hurting worse than ever. Right now, he wasn’t even sure if she hadn’t been too generous in assuming he’d make it out of the tent.

She looked down at him and her expression softened. ‘Look, it’s all right. I promise you that if anything, any news at all, turns up I’ll come and wake you up myself. But rest now. You’re no use to yourself, let alone Theo, in the state you’re in.’

‘All right,’ he said, reaching for the cask.

He drank, three or four deep sips. It tasted exactly how it looked, like muddy water. Perhaps that was all it was. Either way, it was taking him deep, deep into the mattress, far away from June and Colby, whom he could see receding into the distance, walking away towards the exit to the tent. His eyelids felt heavy, so heavy. Maybe he’d just close them for a moment. He wouldn’t sleep, of course, there was no way he could sleep, but maybe just shut them for a moment. He fancied he could hear voices, faint murmuring voices in the background. He opened his eyes again, and saw Father and Ucho there, still talking. He shut his eyes again. He could still hear them, vaguely; his mind wasn’t really processing anything, and almost nothing made sense. Random clumps of words and gibberish, that was all that made it through.

‘… broaden search … well … alive … danger …’

‘City … important … can’t lose her.’

‘Bosquanet … she … all … stand … last line of …’