Jicaque smiled grimly. ‘The arrogance of man is often his downfall. The Shipapi grew complacent – even corrupt; the natural protection was diluted through careless mating. The ’wolves became able to infiltrate the ranks of the Shipapi for the first time. Trust dwindled, and so too did the numbers of the Shipapi. So many people died …’ Abruptly, Jicaque stopped, staring into space. A tear trickled down his cheek.

‘Are you OK?’ Tom whispered.

‘Sorry. It’s just this sax break here …’ He tapped his skinny chest. ‘Gets me every time, you know?’

Tom rolled his eyes. ‘Look … you’re telling a great story, but what does it have to do with what’s happening now?’

‘Be patient,’ said Jicaque sharply. ‘Though the natural immunity of the Shipapi was seriously compromised, resistance, in various forms and levels, still occurred in subsequent generations and is still evident today in a chosen few.’ Now the old man smiled. ‘The ’wolves call these silverbloods. I believe you’ve heard of the expression?’

Tom felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He had been called a silverblood. ‘I’m descended from the Shipapi?’ he asked in wonder. ‘You mean, like, my great-great-great-great-grandfather was one of these people?’

Jicaque opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated as a departing couple passed by close to their table, trying to squeeze past.

Tom glared at them, holding his breath until they had gone and the old man could talk freely again.

‘Indeed, you carry inside you the blood of the ancient guardians,’ Jicaque said softly. ‘A little diluted, sure – but there, nonetheless.’

Tom grimaced. ‘Not strong enough,’ he said. ‘Marcie Folan still made a newblood out of me.’

‘Not entirely; she made you a wereling,’ Jicaque pointed out. ‘As for me, I carry the resistance in a purer form.’

‘Like Rico,’ Tom guessed. Jicaque looked blank. ‘This kid I know,’ Tom went on. ‘His blood is poison to the ’wolves; he can’t be turned.’

‘Like Rico, indeed,’ Jicaque observed. ‘But unlike Rico, and unlike you, I have been aware of my Shipapi inheritance all my life. I was sworn to watch the ’wolves; to help limit their numbers, for the sake of humanity – and their own survival.’

‘So how have you gone about it?’ Tom asked him.

‘Travelled from place to place, guided by others of the ancient order,’ Jicaque replied. ‘If a lupine community was turning too many newbloods, I would try to cure some of those wretched souls; restore the proper balance.’

Tom finally spoke aloud the question he’d been steeling himself to ask: ‘So you can cure people who’ve been turned ’wolf?’

‘If a lupine wishes to embrace their humanity once more, then yes,’ Jicaque agreed.

‘Then can you cure me?’