Through the next few hours, she came to see that it was Raffi who was leading them. Sensing direction in the eternal gloom of Tasceron was almost impossible – there were no moons and no sunrise, and the labyrinth of buildings was intricate and unknown. But a keeper’s soul was linked with the earth, deep with stone and tree and soil, and they felt the magnetic lines deep inside themselves. Or so they said. So Raffi knew where the south was. But did Galen? Once, when he walked straight past a turning and Raffi had to call him back, she saw something in his face that puzzled and chilled her. A wretchedness. Almost despair.

There was no time to think about it. They soon found that Tasceron was inhabited. Coming round a bend, they heard voices, and pressing back quickly into shadow they watched a group of armed men cross between the houses. They wore remnants of armour, ill-patched and rusted; some covered with ragged surcoats and jerkins of what looked like skeat-fur. Two wore helmets.

These were the Watch. Close up, they were a ragged rabble, but they moved fast, with discipline; their swords were bright and when Raffi saw the grim knot of prisoners they dragged behind, tied wrist and waist, he shivered and pressed back into the doorway.

For a long time the tramp of feet echoed in the ruins. Finally Galen said, ‘We were lucky they didn’t have hounds.’

After that they moved more carefully. The maze of dark courts and tunnels bewildered Carys; she knew she’d never find her way back. They walked for hours; the world shrank to brick, rubble, stairs, the sad remnants of gardens, blackened and fire-scarred. Once they heard a great roaring far off and stood rigid, but it didn’t come again. Often rats scattered among the broken houses; clouds of biting insects infested some areas, and everywhere the owls hooted: great sooty-grey owls that swooped down the murky alleys silently.

Twice they crossed rivers on bridges that were crumbling to pieces, and between their feet they saw the black oily water racing below the holes. At the second bridge something leapt out and caught hold of Raffi, mumbling snarling words; Galen gave it a swift blow with his staff and it scuttled, crouched low, into the dark.

They ran then, till they were clear of the place.

‘What was that!’ Carys gasped.

Galen scowled her into silence, listening to their own echoes, endlessly pattering.

‘Are you all right?’ she whispered to Raffi.

He nodded, wearily. ‘What a place. Can the Crow really be here?’

But Galen was gone, and they hurried after him.

Later they paused briefly to eat, but soon moved on, always keeping to the clearer streets if they could. Some alleys were so evil-smelling, so filled with stench and black mist, that Galen avoided them, despite the time lost.