Neil ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what the hell I would have done if I hadn’t found you,” he said.

“Don’t count chickens,” warned Harry. “From what I saw of Misquamacus the last time, hell could be a much more comfortable alternative.”

They left Toby’s room, and walked quietly along the landing until they came to the main bedroom. Neil raised his finger to his lips and then slowly opened the door, beckoning Harry to follow him.

Toby and Susan were both fast asleep. The moon had passed by now, and the room was thick with shadows. The luminous dial of the bedside clock, which chattered softly in the corner, said three-thirty.

“This is your boy?” said Harry, quietly hunkering himself down beside Toby’s bed. He touched the flushed, sleeping cheek, and stroked the untidy hair. Toby stirred slightly, and his small hand opened a little, but his breathing remained calm and even.

“The trouble is, this is a war,” Harry whispered. “It’s not just one evil character trying to get his own back. It’s the red nation fighting to get their revenge on the white nation. A real war.”

He stood up, still looking down at Toby. “And the sad thing is that, in wars, it’s always the innocent people who get hurt the worst.”

Neil watched Harry tiredly.

“Do you want to get some sleep?” Neil asked. “There’s a big couch in the front room, and I can find you some blankets.”

Harry said, “Yes, for sure. Have you ever tried sleeping on a plane with fifty-five rabbis? They spent the whole flight chattering about how they were going to go see Carole Doda. I’m sometimes glad my mother was a Catholic.”

Stepping around the end of the bed, Neil went to make sure that Susan was warm and comfortable. He bent over her and listened to her steady breathing for a while, but he didn’t kiss her or touch her. He felt as if he had somehow failed her, as if he hadn’t protected her as a husband should. There didn’t seem to be any way to make up for what had happened except to destroy Misquamacus, and to free his house and his family from the terrible curse that seemed to have descended on them.

Harry was waiting for him by the door, darkly silhouetted by the light from the landing. He said, “Are you okay? You look as if you could use some sleep yourself.”

Neil took a last look at the bedroom and nodded. “I feel bushed, to tell you the truth.”