‘You know what he said to me? When he saw the pennants flying through the bars, heard the clank of his cell door opening?’

‘What?’

‘Said he felt disappointed. Lost. Regretful. Said those nine months were the most peaceful of his life, and he knew in that moment that he’d never know peace again.’

‘Why are you telling me this now? You want to stay here, is that it?’ Already Chel’s mind was racing away, imagining a course of events where they stayed. Where Rennic was contented in his shack, where Hesso’s episode was explained as illness, where he and Rasha finally took their evening walk together … Where he found peace …

‘No, fuck no, imbecile. I’m merely commenting that I can finally see where he was coming from. It’s a simpler existence, and no mistake.’

‘And you didn’t have this epiphany during our time in Black Rock?’

‘We were about to be murdered by twats. It was not much of a time for peaceful reflection.’

‘Well good, then.’ Chel felt hot around his throat, an urge to snipe. ‘I’m delighted. You must be sure to tell Gamarbollocks that you can finally sympathize with him.’

‘I’d love to, but he took a bolt to the eye the week after he told me that story. Stupid old bastard, never did learn to keep his helmet on. Shall we get a move on?’

They propped Hesso back beside his fire and retrieved their gear, Chel stripping back down to his silk undershirt, glad to be out of the damp clothes Laralim had given him. He stared at them a moment, crumpled and soggy, feeling a sharp pang for what could have been.

‘Nice move with the leaf, by the way,’ Rennic said, belting his jacket. ‘Course, I’d just have cut the poor fucker’s throat, but you love a bit of righteousness, eh? How many did you slip in there, three, four?’

Chel coughed. ‘Dropped the whole bundle in.’

‘Nine hells, no wonder he puked. That could have killed him three times over.’ He laughed, a sneering chuckle, his old edge reasserting itself. ‘And there I was thinking it was the revolting sight of a couple of mooning teenagers that had brought on all that heaving.’

‘You saw that?’ Chel’s cheeks were burning. ‘What did you see?’

‘Enough to know you’ve done well, little man. Now let’s get the fuck out of this place.’ He hefted a staff he’d found in the barn and nodded toward the door. Somewhere a lone bell tolled, sad and final. ‘What’s the plan for getting through the gate?’

Chel paused. ‘I was going to save some of the leaf, but I wasn’t sure—’

‘Shepherd’s piss-pipe, seriously? Is this the curse of your family? An inability to get past stage one of any plan?’

‘We can salvage the tea, maybe if I take it down to them—’