The wolfman, oblivious to the subtle clues, was searching ahead with his own dark-adapted eyes, and pulled on the chain to hurry his pets along. He stepped out of view, but Mary knew well enough not to break cover. She stayed wedged, back and knees pressed against cold stone.

Eventually, a wolf howled, further away, mournful, unfulfilled by the hunt, and the veil about her lifted.

When she tried to move, she was so stiff she fell over, landing hard on her side and stinging her hands. One of the rocks above her moved, unwrapping itself to become the figure of a man.

‘I heard the wolves hunting. I wondered who their prey was.’

‘That trick you did; it looked straight at me, and it couldn’t see me.’ She turned herself over on to her back and bent first one leg in the air, then the other. ‘How did you do that?’

‘Study, hard and long. Practice, painful and repetitive. Will, strong enough to make your nose bleed.’

‘Really?’

‘No. If you have the knack, I could teach you in an hour. It is nothing more than a bit of simple hedge-magic.’

‘Could you?’ she blurted. Magic: actual magic. ‘Will you? Teach me, I mean.’

‘Teach you?’ he said, unfolding himself further, and spidering down the rock towards her. ‘I do not even know your name, girl.’

He wore darkness like a cloak, but it really was a cloak, black and ragged, voluminous and flowing. When he stood over her, he seemed impossibly tall and thin, like a lamppost draped with wind-blown plastic.

He held out his hand for her, and it was like the rest of him: hard, bony, spare. He had no problem hauling her to her feet, though. The top of her head came somewhere below his jutting chin.

‘It is usual, when you save someone from their enemies, to be thanked,’ he said.

‘Are they? My enemies, I mean.’ Mary didn’t know. She’d run anyway. ‘Yeah, okay: thanks,’ she added.

‘My pleasure,’ said the man. ‘And yes. At least, they are my enemies, and we still need to have our wits about us. Stay close.’

It was difficult, as he moved like a stain, visible when slipping from cover to cover, vanishing when stationary. And he moved so quickly, climbing and jumping and crouching, that she, already exhausted, could barely keep up.

When he finally stopped, she slumped to the ground and lay there. The burning in her legs was exquisite, the taste of blood in her throat less so.

‘You have determination,’ he said. She weakly acknowledged the compliment with a raised middle finger.

She became dimly aware of a floor that wasn’t leaves, and walls that weren’t wood. She coughed and choked on what came up, and coughed again, hollow and barking. The sound echoed away.