‘Well, let’s play krik races, then,’ said James. ‘Everybody choose your favourite krik, and see which one makes it to the end of Long Street first.’

The kriks were scuttling back and forth again. At the moment, they were in front of the church, around the houses nearest the dark, mossy cliff. There weren’t so many birds’ nests on this cliff face, as it didn’t catch the sun, but every so often you could see little scurryings or movements on the grassy outcrops of rock, and the adults had said these were rabbits or deer.

‘I call the big orange one,’ said Lana immediately. And it was a good call. It had well-developed pincers and extra limbs that almost reached the floor. When it sometimes decided to run, for no obvious reason, it was able to move very quickly, and very unpredictably.

‘The mottled one with the big stomach,’ said James. This one was currently poking its claw into the corner of a garden wall, though it was impossible to see why.

‘The dark brown one’s mine,’ I said. Mine was carefully chosen, not because it was particularly strong-looking, or fast, but because it was the one which was already the closest to Long Street, and therefore the most likely to get there first.

‘Good choice,’ said James. ‘I see your strategy. Cunning. Kate?’

‘I think . . .’ said Kate, ‘I think I’d like that one . . .’ She pointed to the smallest one, which looked a little starved. It was obviously male, because one of its pincers was larger, but even from this distance, he just looked a little ill.

‘Whatever,’ said Lana. ‘He doesn’t need you to be kind to him, Kate, and your kindness is literally helping him in no way at all.’

‘He’s my krik,’ said Kate loyally.

‘Go!’ said James. ‘Come on, GO!’ For a minute his krik paused, as though he’d heard, and then he removed his claw from the wall, and scuttled back towards the cliff.

‘Bollocks, you stupid thing,’ said James. ‘Turn around, idiot.’

‘Good boy,’ muttered Kate. ‘Good boy.’ Her krik showed no sign of moving at all, and looked as though he’d stopped now to eat from a pile of dried seaweed by the water’s edge.

And I don’t know if it was because we were all watching so intently, or if it was just luck, but at that point we saw some humans run across, from one side of Long Street to the other.

Chapter 11

11

‘There!’ said Lana, pointing. ‘Look! Humans! They definitely are!’

But we’d all seen. There were five of them, each carrying spears or crossbows. They edged down Long Street slowly, their weapons raised and ready. The funny thing was how smoothly they moved, with no jagged lunges or sudden, bobbing turns. After all that time spent watching the kriks, it was the humans who now seemed to move strangely.