‘You’re very suspicious, Mary. Not everybody is trying to hurt you.’ He held his hands up above his head and embraced the sky. ‘This is not even magic. You find your way around with street signs and familiar buildings, yes?’

‘And?’

‘Where are your street signs? Where are your parks, your big shops, your busy junctions? They are nowhere, and even though we have barely gone any distance at all, you are already lost.’

‘All the trees look the same,’ she complained. ‘That’s not really fair.’

‘Being able to hide from the wolfman will not help you if you do not know where you are, or where you are going. So I will show you a few simple tricks.’

‘Magic tricks?’

‘That depends on whether you think the sun rising in the morning is magic, or the folds of the land are magic, or the way the wind blows is magic.’ He raised his eyebrows at her.

Mary looked up at him. ‘I’m guessing they are.’

‘Then you would be half-right. They are not magic, but they may bring magic with them.’

He said nothing else until they suddenly stepped out of the forest and on to the shore of the lake she’d seen from the castle. Close to, it was more of an inland sea, and even though they had been walking for what seemed like ages, judging both time and distance without a watch or familiar landmarks was hard.

Crows walked down to the shingle beach, where little waves lapped the stones. ‘Can you find your way back now?’ He held up his finger as her mouth opened. ‘Do not tell me yes or no. Tell me how, and take your time. Think.’

She took a deep breath and turned around. Now the tower had vanished completely, along with everything else she’d walked by on the way. Trees; nothing but trees, taller than she was, blocking the view. Yet this morning, she’d looked out from Crows’ front door over the whole vista.

She joined him on the shoreline and tried to remember. There’d been the chain of mountains that both the sun and the moon rose over, and there they were again, blue with haze, off to her left. She remembered those from when she’d been catching fish in the estuary. Straight forward was the lake, and beyond that the bay, where the river they’d followed washed out to sea. Then to her far right was the sharp line of rock that eventually made the headland where they’d arrived.

Then she imagined herself there on the beach, looking towards the twin mountains where the geomancer was supposed to be waiting for them, where the river cut through and they were supposed to go around the steep gorge. When she’d run, she’d crossed the river and through the forest until the trees had started to thin and the lines of ridges began.