‘And it can understand you, I’m sure, better than anyone ever has. It knows what you like and what you desire. I’ll bet that when Crowflies wants something from you, it knows exactly how to get you to do it.’

Sa-at frowned. He wasn’t sure what Rochant was saying, and something about it was making him uncomfortable.

‘Do you know what Crowflies likes?’

He smiled. Wormkin. Laughing at people. Being listened to. ‘Yes.’

‘And do you know what the tree likes?’

‘No.’

‘You need to find out. It knows we need the boots, so it has the advantage.’

‘But how?’

‘If you had time you could investigate. As you don’t, you have to fall back on what you can see and what you know.’

‘I know it isn’t very nice.’

Rochant eyes sparkled. ‘And?’

‘It isn’t nice to deal with.’

‘Good. And what do you think it wants?’

Sa-at tried to think. ‘Blood? To make us cry? I don’t know.’

‘All living things, whether human, demon or animal, want to live and to go on living. Demons have ways of prolonging the lifespan of their bodies, Deathless move from one body to another. Everything else lives on through offspring.

‘Look around you, how many oaks can you see?’

He and Tal both did. ‘One.’

‘Exactly, and the trees are packed in close, there’s no room for new saplings to grow here. I know the trees of the Wild move, but I also know that they do not roam far. Offer to take a seed from it and have Crowflies take it to plant somewhere new. Give it what it wants, and you can keep your blood in your veins and the hair on your head.’

Sa-at noticed the tree had gone very quiet. It’s listening! He turned to Crowflies who was perched above them. ‘Would you plant a seed for me, to get Tal’s boots back?’

The Birdkin twitched its head one way, then the other, then gave a reluctant shrug of its wings.

‘Thank you.’

Something had changed about the oak. When Sa-at looked closer, he saw one of the branches was angled lower than before, and that an acorn was hanging from it. He held out his hand underneath. ‘We will plant your seed in return for my friend’s boots. I swear it on my blood and bones.’

A cold wind rustled though the trees, making the branches shake.

With a soft sigh, the acorn fell onto his palm, and when he looked down at the roots, he saw they had retracted into the earth, exposing the boots.

While Tal dug them out, Sa-at handed the acorn up to Crowflies.

‘Sa-aat,’ it crowed with concern.

‘Come back quickly,’ he whispered, and the Birdkin bobbed its head before taking the acorn in its beak and flying off.