None of us looked behind us as we walked, but I could still sense the presence of the Jellyfish out there, somewhere. Maybe missing us, maybe killing the sheep, maybe still digesting our friends. I didn’t want to look behind me because I knew the sea was still visible from here, and that it wouldn’t take much for me to want to go back and check on how the Jellyfish was reacting. Already I felt funny being this far away from the noise of the waves, like it was all too quiet.

I only sort-of remembered being this far from the sea. It felt very grown-up and responsible to have this level of freedom. It also felt scary and unreal. The thing was, there were loads of places a krik could hide. If they did hide, that is. Could they be lying down in the long grass? Did they lie down?

I felt an itch on my shoulder. I slapped it, wishing I’d had more for breakfast. My stomach was rumbling already. I wondered whether there would be any food for us when we arrived, or – more likely – whether we’d have to find it ourselves.

The itch was back. I slapped my shoulder again. Suddenly I realized something was touching me, stroking my shoulder, following me.

‘Agggghhhhhh!’ I screamed, running forward, desperately flapping my arms. I turned round gripping my fork, ready to defend myself . . . to see James holding a long piece of grass and laughing gleefully.

‘You . . .’ He could hardly get the words out because he was laughing so hard. He just pointed at me. ‘You . . . were such an idiot. All that scanning and staring . . . Oooo look at me. I’m Martha!’ He put on a high voice and did a crazy jig, waving his arms around in the air. ‘I’m Martha, and I’m going out to kill kriks. Ooooo!’

‘What is that supposed to be?’ I repeated his jig back and waved my arms too. Much better than he did, I think, actually. ‘Is that supposed to be an impression of me? Because it’s the most crap impression I’ve seen. You basically just look like a demented octopus.’

‘Well, you said it, Martha,’ said James, with a very superior tone. ‘There’s very little between you at times.’ He waved his arms wildly in the air. ‘Martha or octopus? Martha or octopus? Which am I?’

‘Oh, whatever,’ I sighed. ‘I don’t know. Octopus?’

‘Correct. Now what about this one?’ He waved his arms again, this time in a swooping motion. ‘Martha or octopus?’

‘Me, I suppose.’

‘Nah. Martha, don’t be so hard on yourself. That was also an octopus.’

‘Hey, idiots,’ interrupted Lana, ‘how far is this castle of yours anyway?’

‘I’m not sure exactly,’ said Kate. ‘I think it’s probably further than we’ve come so far, though. I think we’ve only been walking for about half an hour.’