Foot follows foot and I run. I get closer to the town and realize the air is different: there is no smoke rising from the hall of judgement; the fire is out. I run harder.

They have tied up Saint, those men and women I once knew as Sana’s friends. They have bound the statue of Saint as though he were a dangerous beast. With fierce yells they haul on the ropes until the foundations of the statue start to crumble, and with shouts of triumph they heave again. Our Saint comes crashing down, head smashed in to the stone slabs of the town square. Hollers come from the hall of judgement as the vandals laugh and caw at the dousing of the flames. Hurtling past me into the square come men and women of Saintstone, ready to defend, willing to fight.

I hold back; I cannot tell why. I wait and close my eyes, trying to return to my dream, straining to feel their fingers at my wrists: “Moriah and Belia,” I whisper, “where will you send me?” And then my eye is drawn to an open door – the fire escape. The museum: someone is in the museum. The sisters’ hands bid me go and I run in the dark towards the open door.

There is no mob, no sound of smashing or destruction. I walk silently through the room of curios and creeping horror and peer into the grand foyer. Piled against the locked main doors are bales of straw and the stink of them tells me enough – they have been doused in fuel, ready to burn. I can hear the voices more clearly now and I creep up the stone steps, hoping that their curve will hide me. All of a sudden, they are in view. Sana and Jack. Sana has an oil lantern at her feet and in its flickering light their shadows are all angles and edges, lending a theatrical tone to their bitter words.

“We’ve always wanted the same thing, haven’t we, Jack? I could see it in you even when you were a child. This isn’t about taking sides or fighting for our people – we fight for ourselves and no one else.”

Minnow shines in the lamplight – like a mockery of Saint, he stands tall.

“You loved your people once, Sana. The embers still glow faintly – how can I be sure your love won’t flicker to flame once again? This is your weakness, for you need their love too. Oh, you mistreat them, and you flog them into obedience, but you have them in awe of you. You could not bear it if they all hated you. For you, power over them is not enough – you need their love. That was Dan Longsight’s mistake. It’s one I won’t make.”