‘Have you ever written your own destiny?’

‘I don’t even know what that means.’

‘What were you, on the other side of the door? Did you give orders, or take them?’ Crows turned his head resting his cheek on his hands, staring at her intently with his wide eyes.

She had to look away. ‘You can probably guess.’

‘I was a sailor,’ he said. ‘Far away from home. London was the centre of the world, but that did not mean its streets were paved with gold. I took some dark turns, for certain, and I was not much older than you then. And here I am, now, the King of Crows in his own castle. What about you?’

‘I …’ She may as well say it. It wasn’t like Crows could do anything with the information. ‘I was in care.’

‘Care?’

‘You know. In a home.’ She watched his eyebrows knit together. ‘For kids. A kids’ home.’

‘Ah. An orphanage.’

‘No one calls them that any more. How old are you?’ To her eyes, he couldn’t be more than thirty.

Crows smiled and looked out over his kingdom of trees. ‘Who knows? If you do not count the days, keeping count of the years is impossible. The answer to a different question is nineteen thirty-eight.’

She looked him up and down. Eventually she said, ‘Fuck off.’

‘It is true,’ said Crows. ‘I take it you are from later.’

‘Fuck off! There’s no way you can be from the nineteen thirties. You should be an old man. And there weren’t any black people in London in the thirties; that was, I don’t know, after the war.’

‘War?’

‘Fuck off! World War Two, Crows. Bloody Battle of Britain and stuff. Churchill and Hitler. It’s history.’

He blinked at her. ‘Your history. Not mine.’ He waved his hand. ‘Actually, I’ve heard of the Second World War. I think a lot of people come from then. London was bad, yes?’

‘The Blitz. I can’t believe you don’t know about that. Bad? Bombs and everything. Fires and buildings falling down.’ Just like her London. She took several deep breaths. ‘You’re a fucking time traveller.’

‘No more than you. Down is joined to London, at different places and at different times. There are people here who are from different whens to both you and me. I think,’ he said, tapping his lips, ‘there will be a great deal of interest in you.’

‘Fuck.’ She sat back, bracing herself on her arms. ‘The geomancer.’

‘The one you call the wolfman works for her. He makes sure that those who pass through the portal get to her. One way or another. Were there others with you?’

She shook her head. ‘Seven of us.’

‘That many? I’ve never heard of such a thing happening before. Tell me, Mary. What do you do? What special knowledge do you have?’