In that moment, she hated herself more than she had for weeks. No one would have been in too much danger? Oh, no one had died, and even if they had, surely it was fine as long as it wasn’t any of the people she cared about.

They passed through the centre of town. Many establishments seemed to have suffered from the explosion, reconstruction partly underway on some, others just scorched and damaged. Orfeus hoped the reason they weren’t being rebuilt was because the damage was cosmetic, not because there were no resources.

The once-wrecked planter boxes in the square were now dense with scrambling plants, familiar dark green leaves. Willowherb. She turned her face away from it.

Faol led her back into the suburbs, all spreading, all gardens. Flowers were in bloom. Orfeus’s stomach felt small and hard, like a stone she’d forgotten to rake away.

“Our prey is a carpenter,” Faol said, speaking quietly. “We shouldn’t need reasons to do our job…” He eyed her sternly, as though trying to fix this in her mind. Orfeus nodded as if she was obedient. Faol continued, “Someone got word he was taking from live trees, cutting them down. Planting none. Stealing other people’s stock, too. So here we are.” He gave the tiniest, most laconic gesture, a flaring of fingers at the scene around them, barely a twitch of his hand. From Faol, who seldom made any gestures at all, it felt expressive. Almost apologetic, like he knew this was hard.

What did it matter if he knew or not, it was still hard, she still had to be here.

The stone that was her heart twisted and rolled in her chest. Shifting uneasily even before they got there, and Faol came to a stop outside her house.

No: outside Linden’s house.

Like standing on rocks in the riverbed, the footing tricky, ready to send her tripping into the rapids. “No,” Orfeus said. From how Faol looked at her, she knew she was on dangerous ground, and she shook her head not caring. “I know this man. We were neighbours. He wouldn’t do that, the things you said.” Linden was always careful, only used found wood and felled wood. “I know him! Something’s wrong.”

Faolan examined the house, eyes scanning over the windows, the entrances. The woodworking room had no light on. “Is it?” he said. “Or do you just want to avoid a kill?”

Orfeus looked away.

“Fox, you must choose eventually,” Faolan said, and stepped forward in front of her. His shoulders were bunched together in tension. Bizarre for someone so experienced to be so tense when their prey was only a lowly carpenter.

Linden was a mathematician more than he was a carpenter, really, carpentry was just what he was passionate about. He’d never been any good. Orfeus followed, slow. The stone twisted and gave way. Just muck, underneath, just rotten things.