Lock scowled. ‘There are no holy Setatmeh in the bath. Not that we’d give you a weapon if there were. You are not in danger.’ Xessa shook her head again; there was no way she was going in there unarmed. ‘It’s safe,’ he added, but she backed up against the warriors, turned and tried to push her way free.

They grabbed her by the arms and wrestled her through the low door. The room was small and cool, the pool malevolent in its centre and surrounded by benches holding cloths and soap. Lock reached the edge, grabbed Xessa beneath her arm as the others released her and twisted his hips and somehow she was sailing upside down through the air. She landed arse-first in the water hard enough to sink to the bottom.

Bright, all-consuming terror filled her and Xessa came up out of the pool faster than a jaguar’s pounce and flailed for the edge, screaming. One of the warriors began to laugh and Lock was saying something but she couldn’t see through the mass of wet hair. She reached the edge and pulled herself up; the laughing warrior shoved her back with his foot and she sank her teeth into his calf until he wrenched away, kicking. And then Lock was in the water with her, wrestling her against his chest, pinning her there with her arms trapped against him. In the water.

In the water.

Xessa threw up on his shoulder and he grimaced, bent his knees and brought them both down until they were neck-deep to wash it off. She was sobbing, rigid with a fear stronger than any she’d ever felt. They were going to hold her here until a Drowned came and ate her. She had no weapon. She had no weapon.

Lock’s chest rumbled as he spoke to her. He held her still, one hand caressing the back of her head, arms tight to hold her but the rest of him relaxed as if there was nothing to be scared of. Xessa counted his heartbeats against her cheek, slow and strong, not racing with fear. When she reached thirty and nothing had torn her apart she leant back slightly.

Lock looked down at her, let go of her skull and raised a palmful of water to his mouth. He sipped and pulled a face. ‘Salt. Do you understand? Salt water.’

She licked the water from her upper lip to confirm that he spoke the truth. The Drowned thrived in fresh water but sickened in any that was poisoned with salt or rot or wood ashes. There could be no Drowned in this pool, or at least not one that could survive for long.

Xessa shuddered, head to toe, but she nodded and Lock let her go and hoisted himself out of the pool. She stood in the water, alone and small and, despite his words, still afraid. Shaking.