We marched back to the bridge. Silence reigned, which suited me perfectly. I was aware of William Kincaid’s every breath and footfall. I wanted to know what he was going to do before he did it. I reckoned it was pretty obvious where the attack would come. They’d have to be pretty nimble, though. Even if the Kincaids teamed up with the Darrochs, when it came to heights I was better than the lot of them.

At some point Aifric and Byron swapped places so, by the time we reached the rope bridge, there was an interesting shift in order. I hung back as Byron crossed, then Dorienne and Diana, followed by Malcolm and Aifric. I could hear my heart thumping in my chest. Before William changed his mind about staying at my back, I leapt in front of him and virtually sprinted across, keeping every sense alert.

When I landed on solid ground, I was almost disappointed. Perhaps they’d realised that trying to take me out here would be a waste of time and would reveal their intentions. I gritted my teeth as William began his wobble across the bridge. Now I’d have to be on my guard more than ever.

‘The Cruaich,’ I whispered, earning a strange look from Aifric. I remained where I was but didn’t feel the slightest tug on my body. The teleportation still wasn’t working. These Gifts were sodding useless.

In a reverie as I tried to guess where the next danger spot would be, I almost missed it when William’s foot slipped. A second later he cried out, his hands frantically snatching at the ropes on either side of the bridge to stop himself from falling. Dorienne shrieked in alarm. William threw one leg up, hooking it over the bottom rope, while his hands clung onto to the two higher ones. He was sweating, though, and with moist palms, he couldn’t hold on for long if he didn’t haul himself upright. The precarious bridge was swinging dramatically from side to side. My eyes snapped to the muscles straining in William’s arms. Crapadoodle. He wasn’t going to make it.

I didn’t think. Instead I shot back along the rope bridge towards him, using my own body weight to counter the swing and give him more stability.

‘Hold on!’ I yelled, lunging for his hand.

I was too late. His fingers had already slipped into the air and he was hanging down, head first, with only one leg stopping him from falling into the chasm below. If I’d had any doubt whether this was a staged accident, his look of white-faced terror laid that thought to rest.

‘Integrity!’ Byron shouted, as I jumped over William’s leg to twist myself back and grab him from a better angle.

‘Don’t! Don’t come on here! Three people will be too many. I’ve got this! Just trust me.’