‘After a bit of pondering, I ditched the jawbone. There was no way to attach it, and my friend had no mouth anyway. The skull was perfect though. I guided the antennae through the eye holes and they held it in place like a helmet. The other pieces I bound in place, hoping that they would eventually be absorbed like my skin had been.’

‘Were they?’

‘No, and when my friend moved, they slipped out of place.’

‘How did you make it better?’

‘I became an apprentice Cutter-crafter.’ Rochant glanced at the water-skin. ‘Could you?’

After a drink, he continued.

‘A few years went by. My friend grew rapidly, to the point where I had to hide it outside of Veren. Each time it shed an old carapace, I provided it with fresh skin and new armour. It soon outgrew Nant’s skull but, as you know, there are always bones to be found in the Wild. I cultivated friendships with the Gatherers and listened to their stories, always waiting for news of a fresh corpse. I rarely had to wait long.

‘Despite this, the forest was quiet, and we enjoyed a time of relative peace. It wasn’t long before my friend became able to fend for itself. Sometimes, it would scurry, sometimes it would rise up on its back legs and walk. I know it wanted to move like I did, but its gait was …’ he gave another of those almost smiles. ‘It used to get so angry when I laughed.’

‘When did you name it?’

‘The trouble with any small settlement is that everyone knows you. I thought I’d been careful to cover my tracks but one day, when I slipped out to see my friend, I was followed by a young girl. Her name was …’ he frowned. ‘Funny, I can picture her face, it was sour, one of those faces that looks middle aged from the cot to the grave. But I can’t recall her name. It’s been such a long time … She watched us together, long enough to see the extent of my crimes against Veren. She saw me giving blood, and she saw me fixing some of the armour. Now I think about it, it must have taken a lot of courage for her to see my friend and not call out. Jes! I remember now. Her name was Jes.

‘Of course, it didn’t matter in the end. My friend doesn’t hear the sounds you make with your mouth, it hears the sounds you make with your soul, and hers was making a terrible racket. It waited until I’d finished my repair work, and then it jumped. Jes was dead after one scream.