I kneel down and wrap my arms around her. She’s shaking like she’s got a palsy, rocking to and fro, clutching at her hair, fighting something that’s all in her own head. With the house ablaze in front of us, I hold on to her as she sobs. I tell her it’s all right, it’s over now. We’re alive and we can go on. We’ve got through worse, I say, wondering if that’s really true for her. She’s crying and I’m crying with her. Our house is gone. All gone.

What makes me look up I don’t know. Blackthorn’s quieter now, but the fire’s still roaring away, so I can’t have heard him. But I lift my head, with her still in my arms, and I spot him under the trees, the bastard, watching us with an evil look on his face. Thought before that this couldn’t be an accident. Now I know it’s not.

‘Got something to do,’ I murmur, and I unhook Blackthorn’s hands, which are clutching on to my shirt as if she’s drowning. I stand up. This time he’s not getting away. ‘Won’t be long.’

Branoc backs off into Dreamer’s Wood, and I go after him, not roaring and charging this time, but moving fast all the same. My head fills up with red thoughts. What he did to that little girl. What he’s done to our house. What he’s just done to my strong, fearless lady. I’ll wrench the sorry baker in half. I’ll smash his poxy head in. I’ll hold him under the water, let him up for a breath, hold him down again. Keep it up until the last little spark’s snuffed out.

I stalk him through the wood. I’m big, but I know how to walk quiet. The baker’s not running. Gone to ground somewhere. Knows if he moves out from cover I’ll take him. I don’t like leaving Blackthorn on her own, not when she’s in that state. But Branoc’s got my mark on him.

Funny thing is, the wood doesn’t scare me right now, though it’s eerie with the smoke drifting past and the light from the burning house moving over everything, red, gold, yellow. I stay on the path where I can be quieter. I check for good hiding spots. Waiting for him to panic and move out. I remember how I felt the first time I came in here, and wonder if he’s feeling the same. Decide to find out.

‘Branoc!’ I call out in the deepest, scariest voice I can find. ‘I’m coming to get you! I’m coming to rip off your arms and then your legs and then your head, and feed what’s left of you to the monster of Dreamer’s Pool!’