He had to salvage this, rescue the situation. He was surprised at how bad he felt already. His thoughts began to creep. Would it really be so bad to take a stroll down to the grove in the incipient moonlight, hold hands, lock arms, who knew what else? The whole affair was something of a closed book to him. In the years since he’d been sent from home, his encounters with members of the opposite sex his own age could be counted on the fingers of one hand, and one notable example had ended in tragedy. How rare it was to meet someone … suitable.

Her eyes were on him, but they were no longer affectionate.

‘I don’t have to talk to him or anything.’ He could hear the plaintive panic in his voice. ‘Just to see that he’s still there, still healthy. Please. He’s my friend.’

An eyebrow still arched. ‘I thought he was dangerous?’

‘He is. Extremely. But that doesn’t make him any less my responsibility.’ He paused, gulping a quick breath, mental wheels spinning. ‘It’ll be quick, and afterwards we can have our walk. Properly.’

‘Well,’ she said with a sigh of exaggerated weight, ‘if it’ll set you at ease, I suppose it can’t do any harm …’

***

The first plops of rain dropped as they neared the stables, bouncing from the cold earth in small puffs in the dying light. A single youth stood guard over Rennic’s shack in the gloom, his stool pulled under the awning of the barn opposite, his small fire hissing with the reflected splash of raindrops. He was making tea, and looking miserable.

Rasha drew the shawl up from her shoulders and over her head. ‘How close do you want to get?’ She peered upwards at the black carpet overhead, and was rewarded with a direct hit on the forehead. Spluttering, she added, ‘I don’t much fancy staying out if it’s going to piss down.’

Chel nodded in dim agreement. His heart was pounding again, but he remained uncertain of the exact reason. ‘I can’t see him from here, maybe I could get a little closer?’

She frowned at him from beneath the shawl, the suspicion returned to her eyes. ‘He’s in a dark room in a dark night, outlaw. Unless he pokes his head out of his own accord, you’re not going to see him short of pressing a torch against the window. And I’m going no closer – if Hesso sees us, he’s going to say something, and we both know we’re not supposed to be here.’