‘Listen,’ the Sekoi said. ‘I’ve been advised that you should try the Street of the Wool-Carders. Apparently there may be a contact there. We should look for the name Anteus.’

Galen nodded. ‘Where is that?’

‘Not too far. But near a Watchtower. I could show you.’

Galen looked at it curiously. ‘Why are you helping us?’

The Sekoi narrowed its yellow eyes. ‘Because the Watch thinks we’re worthless animals.’ It grinned. ‘And in memory of our mutual friend, Alberic’

‘Have you still got his gold?’ Raffi asked.

The Sekoi drew itself up, affronted. ‘My gold. He should pay his story-tellers.’

Carys laughed. She wished she knew where the Sekoi-hoard was. That would be useful information. But the Crow was better.

Back out in the black city, they headed for the Street of the Wool-Carders. All the streets seemed the same but, crossing one huge empty square, Raffi sensed the space all around him, and eyes at his back. Spinning round, he saw only darkness.

When he told Carys she took the crossbow off her shoulder and loaded it. ‘I’ve been afraid of that.’

‘If only I could sense something clear!’

‘I thought keepers were good at that.’

‘Not here.’

The street, when they found it, was very short and bounded by a low wall with some sort of neglected garden on the other side; dead branches snapped under their feet. They walked up and down it twice but there were no houses, no doors.

Galen leaned on his stick. ‘So much for the Sekoi,’ he snarled bitterly.

The creature rubbed its fur thoughtfully. ‘We may be looking for the wrong thing.’

‘How?’

‘Does not your Order have secrets, keeper? Signs, symbols? Things not known by outsiders?’

Galen straightened instantly. ‘Raffi. Go with him. Search every inch of this wall. Girl, come with me.’

In the dimness they had to peer at the bricks, feel with fingertips. Halfway down Raffi stopped. ‘This is it,’ he breathed.

The Sekoi stared curiously at the mess of scratches. ‘It means nothing.’

‘Yes it does.’ He turned. ‘Galen!’

The keeper came at a run, shoving him aside. ‘Good, Raffi! Good!’

On the wall was a broken inscription plaque, with the words ‘… memory of Anteus who …’ all that remained. But under that were new scratches, Strange and meaningless. Galen’s fingers outlined them eagerly. A tiny bee, a circle of six dots and another inside, a group of enigmatic slashes and squiggles. Carys tried to get closer. ‘What does it say?’ she hissed.

Galen glanced at her. Then he said to the Sekoi, ‘Where’s the place called the Pyramid?’

It looked surprised. ‘An hour’s walk south. Why?’

‘That’s where we go.’