‘The wolfman has wolves in the same way Crows has crows. They’re not real crows, they’re parts of him; he uses them to see where he isn’t and they have senses that he doesn’t. Find a flock of crows, and that might well be him. Mary can search from the sky, and we’ll follow on foot. He can’t both carry his maps and get away from us.’

‘And his maps are what we need, not him.’ Mary snorted, but even if everyone else was fooled, Dalip wasn’t. He could tell she liked this Crows, even though he’d stolen what was hers and had abandoned her to her fate.

‘We leave in the morning, then,’ said Luiza, as if the matter was settled, and by saying, settled it herself. ‘We sleep here together. It will be safer.’ She didn’t want to venture further inside, any more than any of the others did. Pigface was dead in the corridor, and his colleague in one of the cells. She walked over to the fireplace, to see if she could coax some life out of it, even though it was perfectly warm.

A fire, one of human beings’ most primal enemies was also one of their most primal needs.

They agreed that someone should keep watch at all times, just because they didn’t want to be seen as stupid. The five of them would split up the remaining night easily enough, and Mama was worried about Dalip so suggested taking his shift too.

Even though he insisted, he suspected that they wouldn’t wake him when it came to his turn. There was beer in the room, weak but it still made his head spin. There was bread, from which he seemed to have the largest piece, but arguing over that seemed pointless. He ate, and he drank, and curled up in an uncomfortable corner to sleep.

Despite everything, he dropped off, and despite everything, he woke again.

It was still dark – no, it was now properly dark. The firelight glow from the burning tower had gone, and only the faint red smear of their own hearth showed. Mary sat in a chair facing it, her back bent and her elbows on her knees. Her spring-coils of hair curtained her face, and she didn’t move, didn’t even acknowledge his presence until he’d settled into a chair next to her, grunting with the effort of motion.

‘You all right?’ she asked. She spoke softly, and the three other figures in the room didn’t stir.

‘I’ll live.’ He was bruised and battered, but actually, he felt like he’d earned his stripes. Each welt was his by right.