The Sekoi sniffed. ‘Maybe,’ it said quietly.

They went on more carefully. Another endless sets of stairs, this time between two tight walls. At the top, the Sekoi blew out the lantern.

‘What are you doing!’ Galen roared from the dark.

They heard a door unlocking. A slot opened in the wall, and to their immense astonishment, sunlight blinded them. With a yell of delight Carys jumped down into it, on to the broad expanse of a roof that spread far and flat into the sky. The sun shone; faint clouds drifted. It was about three o’clock in the afternoon, and one of the moons hung high and still like a smudge of chalk-dust.

‘We’re above the Darkness!’ Raffi stepped down, awed.

The air was clean and cold. Far, far off, the mountains were green in the sun. All the colours exhilarated Raffi; he ran to the parapet and gazed down. Below him, he saw only the smokes and darkness of Tasceron; a black vapour, out of which rose spires and domes, high roofs, spindly towers, and joining them all, a fantastic rickety structure of ladders and bridges, walkways, ropes, high in the sky.

‘What is this?’ Galen asked.

‘The way the Sekoi travel. None of us likes the Darkness, keeper, any more than you. So we live up here, when we come to the city. Which is not often.’ It turned, graciously. ‘My tribe built this. At the moment I’m the only one here.’

On the roof was a scatter of tents, patched and sewn, and some bigger huts, made from wood nailed inexpertly together. The Sekoi took them to the nearest, went in and tossed out some cushions.

‘Be comfortable,’ it said and disappeared inside.

Suddenly worn out, Raffi crumpled on to the silk and lay back in luxury, closing his eyes in the sunwarmth. Galen sat beside him, easing his sore leg. Carys watched.

The keeper looked at her; she felt awkward and uneasy. At last she muttered, ‘You should have told me.’

Raffi opened his eyes. ‘Told you what?’

‘Not you. Him.’

Galen’s eyes were black, like a bird’s; he eased the green and jet crystals from inside his coat and ran his fingers over them. ‘Nothing to do with you,’ he said fiercely.

Raffi sat up. Anxious, he watched them both.

‘Of course it is,’ she snapped. ‘We’re in this together. If I’d known you’d lost all…’

His glare stopped her. Raffi looked away. ‘When did you find out?’ Galen murmured.

‘Down there. In the alley. Though I’d thought before that something was wrong.’ She kept her eyes on Galen. ‘No wonder you want so much to find the Crow.’

Before he could answer the Sekoi was back, carrying a great platter of fruit. ‘This is all my people eat,’ it said, ‘so it will have to do.’

‘Where did you get it?’ Raffi asked, taking a dew-apple.