When Mayor Longsight died, so too did his people’s hope.

While their enemies rejoiced, the people of Saintstone mourned. The townspeople wore black and honoured their leader’s memory by paying homage when his body was on display. They were held back by attendants, kept at a respectful distance, but many longed to run to him and wash his skin with their tears.

At the apportioned time, his skin was prepared and the mayor was ready to be taken to the flayers’ for the next stage of his journey into eternity. But, then, it happened. His chest began to rise and fall, his fingers twitched, and his mouth moved – declaring all that he had learned from the ancestors while he was in the depths. Our leader, who had been dead, was now alive.

His advisor, Jack Minnow, instructed him to wait a few days until he was strong and then the miracle was announced. The frenzied joy of impossible wishes granted filled the town. This beloved leader was man no longer – he was something more – a victor, beater of the final enemy, lord over death.

Tanya – appalled and astonished – tries to speak, but Mel holds up a hand. This is her story and she will tell it to its end. We are transfixed; our storyteller’s eyes reflect the flames of the fire and the heat in our hearts.

One miracle was not enough, however. It’s funny how quickly things once hailed as wonders lose their shine. And acceptance is never satisfactory when what you really desire is worship. A stage was set, and the town’s finest inker was summoned to mark the mayor. In a public ceremony the mayor was given a punishment mark in another man’s place. The criminal’s debt paid by the miracle man. But this work of humble sacrifice was not enough; one week later, the mayor appeared again before the people and he revealed his latest feat. The mark that was made – that was inked into his skin on behalf of another – that mark had completely disappeared.

Oscar draws in a breath – the air hissing through his teeth breaks the magic. Mel looks around at us and she is Mel again, not our storyteller. The rest of her words sound like a friend explaining to friends.

“His next sacrifice was to be on Leora’s behalf. I can only imagine that he was intending to take on the crow – the mark of the forgotten. But he never got a chance because the meeting was interrupted. A most terrible thing occurred. A house was broken into and the skin books stolen.

“A skin book is the symbol of a soul that lives for ever – to steal one of these books is akin to a kidnapping; to destroy it would be murder. No one in Saintstone would commit such a heinous crime. But there are others who might.” Her gaze rakes over them. “We know that Sana is behind this and we have come to stop her.”