One of the houses caught his eye. Like the others, it was run down and under siege from the Wild, but the door was clear of vegetation. He stopped and told Tal to wait while he had a closer look.

Tal put a hand on his arm. ‘Be careful, yeah?’

The gesture set a little tremble in Sa-at’s heart. He cares for me. He is my friend. ‘I will.’

He approached the house from the side. Someone had set a trap there but Sa-at had grown up in the Wild, and so he always attended to where he placed his feet. The door was not locked and it was easy for him to slip though. There wasn’t much to see inside, but there were some interesting smells in the air. Despite some slight misgivings, he opened his right hand.

The air was musty, and smelled of damp wood mixed with unwashed clothes. Under all of this was a subtle aroma of fruit-laced drink, that he was able to connect to an empty bottle that had been set in a corner. People had eaten here, but the food smelled odd, almost fiery in a way that made his palm tingle and his mouth water. Most exciting of all was a subtle fragrance of apples and spices that he knew, just knew, had to belong to the mysterious young women with the golden lips.

Sa-at crept across the room to another door. He could hear very soft breathing from the other side and when he placed his palm by the gap beneath, he detected another person smell, different to the ones in the room: male, sickly.

Very slowly, he inched the door open, waiting after each one for a change in the breathing. It was so regular, he became convinced the occupant was asleep, and risked putting his head through.

A man was inside. He too had dark skin – like my own! – and he could see an elaborate gold tattoo, a spiderwebbing zigzag of lines on the right side of the man’s face. For reasons Sa-at could not understand, the man’s head was strapped to the wall. And something was wrong with him, deeply wrong, like an animal that had something broken inside and was waiting for death.

He was so still that it took a while for Sa-at to realize that his eyes were open just a crack, and staring right at him. He froze, then began to slide back out of the room.

The man tried to speak but his mouth was stuffed with fabric. On a sudden impulse, Sa-at dashed forward and pulled it out before dashing back to the door again.

‘Please,’ said the man, ‘don’t go.’