Dalip ran: step, step, step, then jump. He connected clean. He was in the air, and rather than trying to stay upright, he brought a knee up, turning his whole body sideways. His feet cleared the top of the wall, and he reached out with his hands, slapping the stonework as it passed underneath him.

He hit it hard, and rolled.

This time he didn’t fall far, just at the feet of the geomancer’s empty throne. He lay there for a moment, quiet and still, checking that he’d actually done it, and that he was alone.

The circular balcony wasn’t that deep, enough room for him to fit between the parapet and the chair, and the same space behind it. He could see a door, set into the wall in front of him. He pulled himself up and looked down at Stanislav. He glanced up, circled his finger and thumb for an okay, and purposefully stared in the direction of the pit door, which was merely ajar.

He wouldn’t have long. He circumnavigated the narrow balcony with its low ceiling, found no surprises, and ended up back at the only door. It was closed with a latch, which he lifted very slowly. He pushed, inching the door away from the jamb, listening at the crack he’d made for any sounds from the other side. The hinges groaned, and he ceased all movement. Nothing. No sudden clatter or shout of alarm.

He dared himself to push a little more, when he heard Stanislav’s extravagant throat-clearing. They hadn’t agreed on a warning, but it couldn’t be anything but. No one must know that he could escape the pit, until the moment he did so. Dalip pulled the door shut and sprinted for the edge. He lay on the top of the parapet, and swung himself over. His nervous fingers slid, and he fell the rest of the distance to the floor, which was where Pigface found him.

He turned his gaze between Dalip and Stanislav with an expression of disdain. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Dalip looked like he was resting, propped up against the wall. Stanislav had his stick in his hand, as if berating the boy for being weak. He snorted, and turned his back on them.

‘You’ve had enough for one day,’ he said.

‘We decide that,’ said Stanislav. He threw his stick at the door, where it clattered near to Pigface’s head.

‘Push it too far, Slav, and I swear I’ll do you.’

Stanislav shrugged, flexing his shoulders. ‘Come, then. It will end up as before, with my hand on your throat and you gasping for air.’

Pigface half-turned, and hesitated.

Dalip picked himself off the floor. ‘We shouldn’t be fighting each other. We know who the enemy is.’

‘And who’s that, little lion man?’