Tal was taller than Sa-at, and Crunch was much taller again. He was broader too, and in one meaty hand he held a bunch of burning leaves tied to a stick. He wore no clothes, though thick ropes of skin grew from his head, covering everything save for the red skin of his arms and toes. Big ears guided him, for Crunch had no eyes, his face dominated by a vertical mouth, half-open like a pair of sodden curtains. ‘What’s this? What’s this? An unclaimed morsel?’

Eyesore, the second of the brothers, emerged on the other side of Tal. Physically, he was near identical, save that instead of a mouth, he had three eyes. He too carried a burning stick, and Sa-at realized that its purpose was not to guide, but to obscure. As Eyesore waved it behind him, plumes of grey smoke hung in the air, masking the odour of human blood.

‘Is it plump?’ asked Crunch.

Several clicks and pops could be heard as Eyesore worked his knuckles. Sa-at could only assume that he was communicating assent as Crunch’s mouth began to water.

‘Is it ripe?’

The third brother, Pits, came out behind Tal. Unlike them, he did not carry a torch. His hands unerringly found their way to Tal’s shoulders, lifting the young man off the ground as if he were a babe. There were no features at all on Pits’ face, just a single hole, a nostril, that he pressed against Tal’s forehead.

For a horrible moment, Sa-at thought that Pits was going to inhale the gibbering young man’s head completely, but then he dropped Tal between them and clicked his own knuckles.

‘Good, good,’ said Crunch, patting his belly. ‘I was wasting away, so I was.’

If he did not do something quickly, Tal would be eaten, and Sa-at couldn’t bear that. An idea, half grown, began to form. Murderkind had said that the Red Brothers owed him. Perhaps he could use that favour to free his friend? But, if he used his only currency on Tal, he would not be able to find out what the Scuttling Corpseman was planning, and he would not be able to grant Murderkind’s wish. Murderkind was his friend too, and he’d made it a promise.

Tal scrambled to his feet and tried to get away, but Eyesore caught his arm and swung him towards Crunch.

‘Right,’ said Crunch, catching Tal and pushing him towards Pits. ‘Who gets first chunk?’

Sa-at bit his lip. He was afraid of the Brothers. He was afraid of speaking and giving himself away. He was afraid of doing nothing. He was afraid of failing his friends.