Dakto ripped his knife out of his belt and Lilla braced, breathing a swift prayer to Malel that she would find his spirit for rebirth. Instead of killing him, the macaw cut the rope at his neck free of the main line and dragged him away. He punched Lilla to his knees, kept on punching until Lilla was curled on the ground, teeth gritted, eyes squeezed shut and muscles tensed to try and absorb the impact. The pain in his head, which had finally begun to settle, roared back with a vengeance when Dakto punched him in the face.

Nobody came to his aid, not even when Dakto started in with his feet, not even when, heaving for air, he kicked Lilla onto his back and sat on him, ripped open his tunic and sliced into the skin of his chest with the knife.

Lilla screamed then, barely able to see Dakto through the swelling around his eyes and the pain that ripped through his head and chest. The cutting stopped and he lay there, gasping for breath, until he felt the man climb off him. He tried to roll onto his side but was kicked flat again, and moments later the macaw was back. He rubbed a handful of something into the cuts on Lilla’s chest, making him screech again as it burned and grated in the wounds, as if he’d poured warrior wasps into his lung.

‘Get up.’ Dakto’s voice was implacable. ‘Get up and get in line or I’ll cut your balls off.’

Lilla rolled onto his side and got to his knees, wobbling. He spat a mouthful of blood and half a tooth into the rich black earth at the edge of the limestone road. He held his breath and made himself stand, groaning. He staggered towards the line of prisoners, his balance gone and his hearing muffled in his right ear. The whine in his head was louder.

The cut ends of the cord were knotted back through the wide collar on Lilla’s neck. He could feel Dakto’s breath and body heat as the other man stood right next to him, far too close for comfort. ‘Walk. If you slow us down I’ll flog the skin from your back and make you eat it.’

Limping, gasping, and counting up his hurts one at a time so he’d know the exact number to repay, Lilla walked into the Singing City, through estates and gardens and craft quarters, over a flat bridge spanning a river that made his skin crawl with horror, and into a wide space of beaten earth filled with tall bamboo cages. The flesh markets of Pechacan.

Dakto sought him out one last time, and Lilla braced for another beating. The macaw stood close enough to kiss, so Lilla could see him through the swelling around his eyes. ‘You told me once you would not have me because you were married.’