‘I found us somewhere to camp,’ Chloe said as her torch lit up beside him. ‘It’s not far but it’s far enough from that crowd.’ She turned her light towards the village. ‘We just have to go back the way we came, and then east for a bit, in the direction of the church.’

‘If we leave before dawn, we can avoid meeting anyone,’ Ben added.

‘I was thinking the same. Hopefully the dark will keep them locked up until we’re halfway back to the car. Miserable old fuckers, weren’t they?’

‘You should try talking to them.’

*

Stars glinted like eyes in the sky’s black shawl. Brittle stones scraped beneath their feet, echoing across the emptiness, and though Ben listened for the step of another, theirs were the only clumsy feet in Tír Mallacht that night.

‘How did the interviews go?’ Chloe asked.

Straight in with that question.

Ben knew he had failed to hold up his part of the contract. But he tried not to blame himself. Even a hard-boiled interrogator wouldn’t have wrung any information out of Mary’s line-up. They held their secrets like a family grudge, speaking only to waste what precious little time remained until sundown.

‘Not so great,’ Ben replied, teeth chattering. ‘I’m guessing the kid warned them we were coming. I don’t understand what they’re hiding. I only wish I knew more about this creeper thing that Sparling asked for. I’ve never heard of it.’

‘Our friend gave you everything you need. What was it again? Three times you see him,’ she said, impersonating the child’s voice, holding the torch up to her face. ‘The first night he’s far, far away. And then the next night he’s closer.’

‘Don’t forget about the uh-oh,’ he said.

‘Oh, the uh-oh is the best part.’

Ben’s flat laugh sounded as phoney as it felt. No amount of joking could hide the fact that his interviews had been an absolute disaster.

They reached the point where they had followed the child, where the archway into the field was now sealed with darkness. Ben rubbed his scalp, remembering the feel of that branch. Losing his hair was like losing a helmet. Everything seemed to leave a scratch or a dent on him.

If only they had kept on the path. They might have reached the villagers before they had time to prep their welcoming party. What if the bells had beckoned them to their dressing rooms to get in costume, deforming their faces with putty and frantically leafing through their lines?

As they climbed that steep, curving hill, the moon broke into sight like a circle cut into black velvet, revealing the white within. Ben was too preoccupied to appreciate it. His mind was rolling out a never-ending list of questions that he could have asked differently.

‘Listen,’ Chloe snapped, throwing her hand in front of him.