“The other eldests, in the other cells.”

The murmuring, the crying. All those rooms down the corridor.

Eldests.

The whole place was full of locked-up eldests.

“I can’t leave them, Maggie.”

“We’ll come back for them,” I said. “After we’ve made sure everything’s all right back home.”

“But—”

“We’ll come back, I promise we will – but we’ve got to go now. Go!”

Cal was huge in the mirror. He grabbed the door handle, right next to Lindi.

Ker-lunk. He unlocked the door.

“Go!”

Lindi put two hands on the wheel. The van lurched forwards – and kept going.

Cal opened the door, ran alongside us.

“Faster!” I gripped the back of the seat.

Lindi moved the gearstick.

Crrrrrunch.

The van jolted.

Cal got thrown off.

Perdunk.

The van bumped.

“AHHHHH!” Cal’s voice, from outside.

Lindi leaned out, grabbed the door and slammed it shut.

I looked in the mirror. Cal was on the floor, holding his foot, his billy lamp rolling by his side.

Faster.

Faster.

Cal stood up. He hopped after us, still clutching his foot. Getting further and further away.

Smaller.

And smaller.

And smaller.

“You did it, Lindi,” I whispered. “You did it.”

Cal was too small to see any more.

“Do you think he’ll be OK?” I said.

“He’ll live.”

He’ll live.

She’s right.

“We have to get back to Fennis Wick now,” I said. “Fast as you can.”

Lindi gripped the steering wheel, eyes on the road. “Yeah, I know, but there’s a problem, Maggie.”

“A problem?”

“Uh-huh. I have absolutely no idea how to get there.”

No idea how to get there.

Neither have I.

We’re lost.

Completely lost.

We won’t get back in time.

We’ll be too late.

“I can get you home.” Una. It was the first thing she’d said to me since we were shut in Mayor Anderson’s loft room.

She was standing in the back of the van, steadying herself on a banana crate.

“You can?” I said.

She scrambled forward. “Yeah. We came up an old motorway. There’s quite a few of them around. Number Three, my grandad called this one. We’ve travelled on it loads of times.”

She didn’t smile.

“You’ve travelled on it?” Lindi swerved the van. Crates slipped sideways. “What does she mean, she’s travelled on it?”

I looked at Una. “Can you really get us back to Fennis Wick?”

“Course. A wanderer never goes anywhere without memorising the route they took. You never know when you might need to get out again in a hurry.”

“Hold on – she’s a wanderer?” Lindi twisted round. The van swerved again.

“Yes. And she’s my friend,” I said.

“I’m not your friend,” said Una. “Not any more.” She climbed over the front seat and sat down next to Lindi. “There’s going to be a turning soon, on the right. You need to take it.”