The door has been repaired and repaired again and not with good wood. It pushes open with a touch, which bodes poorly. My uncle Misgett would say: lots of bars and bolts on a door is a sign that folk inside have got more to lose than you. That’s the place you go for the take. But when folk don’t bar their door, it means they have less to lose than you, and you’re the one who might get taken. I think on that for a good moment. Then I step inside. I have no lock on my door either.

I expect the smell of Brida, foul air to match the rotting building. Instead, despite the darkness I’m met with the comforting, gamey smell of tallow candles.

Through the shadows I make out a large sitting room with only the stout legs of a table left. Behind the legs are the innards of the toppled chimney I saw from outside. A carpet of dust tells me no folk’ve passed this way in a fair while. But deeper in I find a narrow path of footsteps cutting through the dust to a set of stairs. Folk have been here lately.

And then I hear a lute.

My guts drop. The music is coming from up the stairs. Somefolk is here.

It’s music of a kind I’ve never heard. Both sweet and sad. A flute joins with the lute. There’s more than one folk. How could such a thing be coming from the ruins of the Domus Conversorum? Mayhap Jews are like fairies, and it’s magic. They were the Maker’s chosen folk, after all.

The flute plays a different song, but one that still belongs with what the lute’s playing. It’s like when you sing in a round at May Day, but more intricate. The song makes my heart squeeze up like I’m grieving. I want to weep but also smile. It’s not fairy music, it’s music of the heavenly plains. But played by angels or demons? I gird myself, and step towards the stairs. Whatever lies beyond, I tell myself, I am more fearsome.

Beyond the fourth step is blackness, so I follow the music, feeling my way with my shoes, until I reach the landing. To one side is more blackness, but the other wavers with the faintest flickering light through a poorly hung door. The music’s so strong I feel it all the way down in my guts. I go on to the door with no notion of what I might find behind it.