‘We both know what happens if you open this door,’ she said.

‘We go away. Far away,’ I said.

‘And then? When we need to sleep?’

‘I’d leave.’

‘He would find me,’ she said.

I glanced at the pistol. ‘I’d do it,’ I said. ‘End us, so you could live.’

She recoiled. ‘Don’t say things like that! Prove it wasn’t us; my night-sister didn’t do those things, you know that.’

‘How? How am I supposed to do that, Rebecca?’

‘You have to try,’ she said softly. ‘The other way… that’s no way.’

I took the key from the lock. Then I took her hand in mine, and drew her close to the bars. I felt the cold burn of iron against my cheeks as I kissed her. A kiss, not of passion, but of desperation, of goodbye.

I picked up his pistol. Half-cocked, the sear in the safety notch, I tucked it into the coat. I was about to leave, when I remembered the note. It was there, on the desk, not even folded.

Let her go and she hangs

I wouldn’t let her go.

*

I opened the door and was met by chaos. Figures of unspeakable sizes and shapes lurched along the street. Carts and wagons made slow progress in parade, and in their beds were gaggles of small demons. They cavorted and jostled and thrust pokers at all and sundry. One was bounced from its perch and came to ruin on the cobbles, where it wailed an unearthly sound. A hellish hawker, proclaiming the sale of body parts – salted and sweetened – narrowly missed the little beast. I gagged at the smell of the hawker’s wares. Sulphur and sweat were heavy in the air. Finally, the demon’s mother swooped down on poorly made wings to comfort her child.

All Hallows’ Eve was truly underway.

It was a bright, if cold, day for the festivities. Perhaps that was the reason for the vigour of the celebrations. It invariably rained in Esteberg at that time of year, more often than not. All Hallows’ was a more subdued, private affair of parlour room seances and storytelling. Not so in Drekenford.

I pressed through the throng as best I could, and soon became aware I was moving against the tide. Men, women, and children in all kinds of costumes were making for the centre of town. I had largely been unaware of the preparations for the festival – both Christophor and I preoccupied with other, more significant matters. Now, I wished for better knowledge of which streets to avoid and such. Grimly, I pushed on. I had to reach the Eder house before it was too late. But I was prevented from doing so freely.

One woman – I could see that much despite the grotesque mask and drapery she wore – caught my arm and swung me round as if in dance. She laughed the whole time and then released me, just another stranger among the merriment.

I was about to curse her for the fool she was, and then stopped. I stopped entirely, there in the middle of the street – a rock in the flow of a river.