‘It’s just my mild narcosis,’ I said, ‘overactive imagination. Oh, and I think you should probably know if you’re planning to bundle with Fodder: when we Winter embraced, he kissed me very gently on the ear.’

‘Yeah, I heard he does that.’

I yawned, and then apologised.

‘You’re looking tired,’ said Jonesy. ‘It’s best to take it easy the first couple of days. Come with me.’

I followed her out of records and into the office, where we found Fodder balancing a hunting knife on the tip of his finger.

‘Hey, Fod,’ said Jonesy, ‘will you show Wonky around town before nightfall? You both live at the Siddons, so it makes sense to end up there.’

‘Delighted,’ said Fodder.

‘You may want to keep an eye out for intruders,’ added Treacle, who was at the front desk. ‘We’ve had a couple of reports of a possible incursion of people or creatures unknown at the far end of town.’

*   *   *

I felt the cold wind slice into my exposed skin as we stepped outside. It had shifted around to the north and already flurries of snow were portending a heavier fall some time within the next forty-eight hours. Fodder, instead of taking one of the Sno-Tracs parked outside, strode off on foot.

‘No transport?’ I asked, following close behind.

‘Where practical I walk,’ he replied. ‘Once cocooned in a Sno-Trac, the senses are numbed. Out on the fringes you need a feel for the air, the wind, the environs. The Three Vs can strike at a moment’s notice.’

‘The Three Vs?’

‘Villains, Vacants and Volk. Hear that?’

We stopped. I listened intently but all I could hear was the faint whisper of ice crystals blowing across the drifts.

‘No.’

‘Exactly. There’s nothing there. But one day there will be – and you want to sense it or them before you can see them – or they can see you.’

‘I understand,’ I said, ‘you think there are Volk?’

‘I’ve seen some weird stuff,’ he said, ‘but nothing that makes me think the Gronk exists – which is a shame. I’d like Laura to win her bet.’

We trudged on, the snow swirling around us, the visibility barely thirty feet, the daylight dull, soft and directionless. Fodder put on a knitted hat shaped like a penguin, which looked faintly ridiculous. He might or might not have known this, but I’m firmly convinced no one in their right mind would point it out.

‘Treacle said something about an intruder report.’