He turned and began to climb up the rocky headland, till he knew he was invisible from the beach. He didn’t stop till he was deep in the wildest part of the island. There, perched high on the steep slope, he finally stopped. He had used up all his anger. He felt finished.

He could hear nothing except the cries of distant gulls. He could see nothing but sea and sky, feel only the springy grass and rock beneath him. Then he curled up in a tight ball and covered his head with his injured hands. His skin was on fire, burning with agony, but it felt like a fitting punishment. His hope was crushed. His future was gone. He didn’t even know who he was any more. Someone who turned from his friends? Someone who couldn’t be glad for them? Someone who thought of killing a baby dragon and caused harm to innocent people? He couldn’t forget the look in their eyes as they ran in terror.

Joe lay there for hours, till the sky turned violet and full of shadows, warning of a storm.

Eventually he found the energy to sit up, feeling like a sea-scoured shell; so empty, he was barely there. He swal­lowed hard. His throat hurt. His lips were cracked and dry. He was hungry and desperately thirsty. He felt through his pockets, but he had nothing to eat.

He looked around him. Further to the north, there were some small, shrubby bushes. He crawled over, and saw with relief the orange clusters of sea-buckthorn berries, cling­ing to the wind-gnarled branches. He tore them off – bitter sourness bursting in his mouth – till his stomach ached and his burned fingers were bloody from the spikes between the 42fruit. His head cleared after he’d eaten, just enough to think about the next step. If he was going to survive – and a small stubborn instinct told him he must – he had to find shelter for the night.

Above him there was a rocky overhang with black shadows pooling underneath. Was it a cave? As he looked, a fragment of shadow detached itself and flew in a crazy, skittering loop in the dark blue sky. A bat! So it must be a cave. It would be dry and safe.

Joe clambered up, towards the dark mouth of the cave. The last part was very steep, and he didn’t dare look back. With burning arms and wobbling legs, he dragged himself up, till grass became gravel then rock under his fingertips. The cave mouth was larger than he expected, so he stood up and walked in. Eyes wide in the pitch-black, he could see nothing. He felt as if he’d gone blind. But it was dry and cool inside, sandy underfoot. He stopped and listened. He felt the quality of the space change. The air on his face was moving. Beyond the entrance, this cave was large.

‘Argh!’ Something brushed past his face. His heart was pounding so loud he couldn’t think past it. It’s a bat, he told himself. Just another bat. When his heart calmed, he heard them from over to his right, a busy, distant sound. A thou­sand high-pitched squeaks. There must be a whole colony of bats in there. He didn’t mind. He liked birds and animals; he’d always found them easier than people.