Mucum had already carried his groaning friend over to where the King’s surgeon had gathered the injured. “‘E’ll live, and wiv a great scar to prove he’s a good ’un.”

“I am glad.”

“Good to see you’re well armed!”

Ark looked down at the object still held in his hands. He let the remains of the limb clatter to the ground. “That is possibly one of the worst jokes I have ever heard!” he grimaced.

“Well. You gotta laugh, really. Jes’ a bit of ’armless fun!”

“Please. Stop now, or I might have to kill you!”

A sudden panicked look entered Mucum’s eyes. “Oh no. In all the rush, I didn’t even think about her. Flo?” His eyes frantically searched around.

“I saw … I mean … she was hit.”

Mucum’s face crumpled.

Ark pointed and his friend ran toward the edge of the cloisters just as the doors burst open and several Rootshooters entered, carrying a prone figure between them.

“Flo!” cried Mucum, skidding on blood and feathers and squit as he ran over.

The Rootshooters gently laid the figure down and that was when Mucum got the surprise of his life.

The deathly pale girl opened one eye and winked at him. “Yow worry too much!” she whispered, obviously in pain.

“You’re alive!” he said, kneeling down to take her hand.

“That be a most obvious conclusion!” said Flo. “Oi thought that us ironworkers moight be doin’ with makin’ some body shields. Whoi, yow’d thought they’d never ‘eard of such things. What a malarkey, tryin’ to get them to forge something out of their ken. If only a few more of moi mates had worn ’em …”

“What are you on about?” said Mucum. Big fat tears ran freely down his face.

“Come here, silly. Look yow!” Flo lifted up her white shift.

“Erm,” said Mucum, going bright red. “Are you sure this is the right place and time?”

“Oh. Yow Dendrans are somewhat stupid sometimes! Look yow!” she insisted, lifting out a rectangle of iron from beneath her clothes with a very obvious dent in the middle. “Them strange sticks of glass didn’t stand a chance!”

“Thank Diana!” He wasn’t normally one for prayers to Diana, and maybe she was Ark’s long-dead grandma. But his heart’s longing had been answered.

“Oi am somewhat bruised, though! But look at yowr arm! There’s an arrow stuck in there! Yow needs medical attention.”

Mucum looked down at the broken-off shaft. In the heat of battle, he’d forgotten all about the pain. Now it came roaring back.

“But before them surgeons take yow off, will yow grant me one toiny request?”

“Anything!” said Mucum, gritting his teeth to ignore the throbbing.

“Yow made us a promise.”

“I did?” Mucum looked confused.

“Oh Goddess save us! Do Oi ’ave to spell it out?”

“Err. I fink so….” What was she talking about?