When they got back to Nidra’s dwelling in Sorn, the tripwire by the front step was broken. Pari knew Rochant was no longer there, she could just feel it. She followed Nidra inside anyway, in part to see how the other woman would react and because there might be clues as to what had happened.

The little side room seemed bigger without Rochant to fill it, but just as sad looking. There was no sign of a struggle.

Nidra ran her hand over the leather strap that had been attaching Rochant’s head to the wall. ‘He had help.’

‘Perhaps not. He could have planned an escape and saved what little of his strength remained, waiting for us to lower our guard.’

‘No. He couldn’t have rescued himself.’

‘You sound very certain, my dear.’

‘I am certain,’ Nidra retorted, pushing past Pari and walking out the front door. Pari had one last look at the room. There were no obvious clues to indicate who had come or what had happened, but her instincts agreed with Nidra’s assessment. Someone else had been here.

When she stepped outside, she saw Nidra inspecting the ground. ‘Rochant wouldn’t be able to travel far in his condition,’ Pari said.

‘He wouldn’t be able to travel at all.’ She kept her attention fixed on the ground as she added, ‘I took the use of his limbs from him.’

That explains why his hands weren’t tied. ‘I thought you said you stopped the torture for Vasin’s sake.’

‘I did, but I’m not a fool. My situation was too uncertain to leave him whole. Besides,’ her voice dropped, ‘he deserved to suffer.’ Before Pari could say anything to that, and she did have quite a bit to say on the subject, Nidra held up a hand. ‘Look, drag marks.’

Pari gestured the way they’d gone. ‘After you.’

The two moved quickly towards Sorn’s edge. The trail was easier to follow when it hit the long grass. She could see where the escapees had ploughed their way through, trampling down stalks.

‘Two of them,’ said Nidra.

‘Agreed. The question is, who are they?’

‘No, the question is, how did they find us?’

Pari didn’t like the way Nidra glanced back as she said this. Ignoring it, she took what she could from the trail. There were two sets of prints, close together and mostly in step. One set belonged to an adult wearing the kind of heavy duty boots favoured by road-born that had to travel the Wild. The other was lighter, made by smaller feet. A young woman’s or large child’s perhaps?

‘At the risk of being pedantic,’ said Pari, ‘I think there might be a third question: Did they take Rochant against his will?’

‘There’s no point speculating. We find him. We find the answers.’