‘If I wanted to,’ Pik added, ‘I could call the guard on you. It would only take a shout.’ He shrugged. ‘But I haven’t.’

Satyendra shook his head, trying to understand this new situation. ‘Are you saying you want to come with me?’

Pik actually laughed. ‘Suns, no! I like it here in the castle. I don’t want to go out there where the Wild is. But then, I’m not you. Nobody wants to sacrifice me.’

It made sense, but Satyendra felt sad. It would have been so much easier to have an ally, even one as stupid as Nose. He watched the boy’s eyes move eagerly to the more unusual items of his stash and an idea came to him, a horrible one. ‘Before I go, do you want to try on my Gatherer’s coat?’

‘Yes, please.’

He helped Pik into it. It was too big for him, almost comically so, and with dismay he realized the same would be true of himself. It would have to be left behind.

‘It’s so heavy!’ Pik exclaimed.

‘Yes, it has to be to protect me from the weather and the Wild …’ If he was going to do it, it had to be now. The need for Pik’s companionship faded, drowned out by the rising need to feed that other, inhuman part of himself. ‘I have a hood here too. Let me put it on you.’

He pulled the hood over Pik’s head backwards, causing the other boy to make a muffled complaint.

‘Oops,’ said Satyendra, reaching down for one of the bricks, his heart beginning to beat faster, ‘let’s try that again.’

Pik was struggling with the hood himself, but before he could twist it round, Satyendra hit him. The boy’s groan was caught in the thick leather as he fell to the floor. His pain and surprise surged into Satyendra, and with them came energy. He leapt onto Pik, straddling his chest and pressing down on his throat.

‘Sssh. No more talking. I’ve never liked you, Nose. Did you know that?’ He was more than strong enough to hold the other boy down now. But this was only the beginning. There was a rich seam of treasure here for Satyendra to mine. He applied just enough pressure to obstruct the air flow, but not enough to cut it off completely. The key was to make Pik’s suffering last, and to give him time to panic properly. With his free hand he poked and prodded his victim, aiming for the soft places, and mixing his rhythm, so that each one was an unpredictable shock.