‘For saving me from those demons. They were the Red Brothers weren’t they?’

Sa-at shivered, the mention of their name making the threat real again. ‘Yes.’

Tal looked into his eyes. ‘Thank you for saving me from them. I’ve never been so scared in all my life. Except maybe that time when the Spiderkin got me. No, actually, this was worse because it went on for much longer. Anyway, thank you. I owe you my life.’

Some of the horror gripping Sa-at’s heart melted a little. It felt nice being thanked.

‘Is it okay if I stay with you?’ asked Tal. ‘Only I don’t know where else to go.’

I’d like that, thought Sa-at. He was trying to work up the courage to say so but ended up nodding instead.

‘Good. So, we should get to know each other. You’re not supposed to travel with folk you don’t know. It’s bad luck.’ When Sa-at didn’t reply, he added. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Sa-at.’

Tal pulled a face. ‘That’s weird.’

It felt as if he’d been slapped in the face, though he could not articulate why. Was his name weird? He’d never thought so. It was simply who he was. Just like Crowflies was Crowflies and rocks were rocks.

‘Is it a Wildborn name?’

Sa-at shrugged, which was awkward in the confined space. Although Tal’s shoulder was pinning him against the side of the hollow, it was pleasingly warm, comforting, like his favourite tree but much, much better.

‘What does it mean,’ asked Tal, ‘your name?’

He shrugged again.

‘It must mean something. All Wildborn names do.’

‘Do they?’

Tal nodded, though Sa-at wasn’t sure he believed him. ‘Course they do, everyone knows that. Hey, have you got anything to eat?’

‘No.’ He checked the divot which was now mostly under Tal’s leg, just in case some food had miraculously appeared. It had not.

‘Do you know where to find some? I’m hungry, and I don’t know this part of the forest. I’m not sure what’s good to eat and what’s not.’

‘Yes.’

‘Great! Can we go now?’

Sa-at looked down at his hand and frowned. It was still sore and he felt exhausted from the events of the previous night.

‘You should wear gloves, like me,’ said Tal. ‘Don’t you worry about getting cut?’

He shook his head. Gatherers must be very clumsy to keep getting cut all the time. If they were more careful, like him, they wouldn’t need to wear so much.

‘Is it hurt bad? It’s not bleeding, is it?’

It was a good question. He hadn’t noticed any blood, but then, he hadn’t dared to look. He gave a miserable shrug.