Lilla put his head on one side and let a thick cable of wet hair fall across his mouth; he sucked the rain out of it, licked the moisture from his own shoulders, his upper lip. It wasn’t enough.

As if he’d been waiting for this, the familiar man, the face he knew, appeared at his side. He matched his pace to Lilla’s and held a gourd to his lips – the warrior managed a few awkward gulps that were gone too soon, barely wetting his throat. But then, there in his mind, as if washed clean by the water, was the name.

‘Dakto,’ he breathed.

The Xenti smiled. ‘Ah, you’re back with us. You’ve been unconscious or just gone for days now – we were starting to think you were permanently damaged. I suppose you still might be. We’ll know in time.’

‘What are … Why …’ Lilla looked at his own bonds and then glanced back at the warrior behind him; she was staring at Dakto with fixed, unrelenting hatred. ‘Why aren’t you roped?’

‘Because I am loyal.’

‘I don’t … I don’t understand.’

Dakto snorted and gave him a little more water, brushing the hair back out of Lilla’s eyes for him. ‘Of course you don’t,’ he said. ‘You’ve got a broken head. The others all figured it out days ago. I am a Whisper, a macaw of the Fourth Talon of the Melody. Ilandeh and I were sent to Tokoban to learn about you so that we could bring you under the song with the fewest possible lives lost. To save you.’ His smile seemed genuine and Lilla smiled back. It was only polite.

‘I don’t understand,’ he said again, apologetic.

Dakto squeezed the back of his neck. ‘Don’t worry: everything will make sense when you’re under the song – we’re only a few sticks away now. Everything will change then, Lilla.’

They walked for a while in silence. None of it made the least bit of sense. ‘Where’s Tayan?’ Lilla asked suddenly, remembering.

Dakto’s mouth went thin. ‘Dead, most likely,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s best just to forget him now. Concentrate on carving a new life for yourself. One dedicated to peace and discipline and prosperity for all. You’ll love it, Lilla,’ he added, light in his face. ‘Oh, how you’ll love the Empire of Songs and the knowledge you’re part of something truly great, truly unique. A warrior with a purpose.’

‘Malel. The ancestors,’ he managed, but his mind was clouding over again as if Dakto had stuffed it with too many pictures and ideas. He could only cling to one. Tayan was dead. Tayan was dead.

‘Lilla?’

Knees striking dirt.

‘Lilla? Wait, stop! One of the injured is down again.’

Black.

‘So you’re a Pecha?’