‘To you, maybe not.’

There was a silence as we climbed, then Grim said, ‘I understand why you would save Blackthorn. But why couldn’t you do it without killing the others? It wasn’t their fault she got shut up in there.’

Now Conmael did stop. He turned to face us, his high-boned features touched to gold by the lantern light. ‘You expect me to justify my actions to you?’

‘It’s a fair question,’ I said.

Conmael shrugged. ‘I had a purpose. I achieved that purpose. Perhaps, if someone had asked them, your fellow prisoners might have chosen a quick and painless demise over a longer stay in Mathuin’s custody.’

‘Quick? Painless?’ Grim’s words were like blows. ‘Didn’t wait around long enough to check, did you?’

‘You would prefer that I had left Blackthorn to Mathuin’s executioners? Don’t tell me that given the choice between her and the others you wouldn’t have chosen to save her.’

‘Stop it,’ I said, hating the look on Grim’s face. He hadn’t told me the whole story about that day, about what had happened after I got out. Something dark was in his eyes now; it was in the set of his jaw. ‘It’s past now. Just move on.’

‘Broke the whole place down, didn’t you?’ Grim wasn’t going to let this go. ‘If you could do that, why couldn’t you get her out without killing anyone else? If you’ve got magic, you should use it better.’

‘Grim. Walk on.’

‘Just saying.’

There was no crossing over to the Otherworld. There were no tricks, as far as I could tell, though I was hardly in an ideal state to detect them. Conmael and his companions led us to the edge of the forest, where the light from their lanterns revealed a shelter cunningly fashioned around the trunk of a massive oak. It was woven from branches and foliage, with a low opening well screened from the weather. The neat space inside was carpeted with dry grass, and on this were set a cloth-covered basket that smelled of freshly baked bread, a pair of folded blankets, and two bags. Conmael hung his lantern from a low branch.

‘It will soon be day,’ he observed, glancing up at the sky. The storm was clearing, the rain was easing. A fresh westerly wind made the strange little hut seem altogether appealing, even if the place was somewhat inadequate to shelter the two of us, Grim being an unusually big man. ‘You will need more sleep before you move on. We will leave you now. Your supplies are here.’ Conmael gave Grim a fleeting glance. ‘All that you requested.’