‘Wyverns can’t go north,’ said Liska. ‘It’s too cold for them. I’m sorry, Lug, but you’re going to have to say goodbye.’

Lug nodded, his eyes brimming with tears, and rested his forehead against Myrtle’s nose. ‘Farewell, girl,’ he whispered. ‘You’re always welcome to come and see me in Arborven.’

That’s not very likely, Liska thought, imagining how the mages would react to a growing wyvern landing in Undren Square. And that’s if Myrtle managed to get through the choking mists that protected the city from her kind.

She kept her mouth closed, though, and watched as Myrtle turned away. The wyvern jogged across the plaza, beating itself aloft with strong sweeps of its wings. Soon she was circling above them. She gave a farewell puff of fire, and then headed south across the Blasted Waste.

Liska was about to turn back to their camp when she spotted a plume of dust on the horizon. It seemed to be heading in their direction.

‘What’s that?’ she said, pointing. A sickly chill had begun to creep over her.

‘Looks like one of those Poxpunk vehicles,’ said Lug. ‘I hope they haven’t seen Myrtle.’

‘I don’t think they’re after wyverns,’ said Elowen. ‘I think they’re after us. It’s coming straight here.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Lug. ‘It’s miles away. It could turn at any moment.’

‘Maybe.’ Liska wasn’t convinced. ‘Even so, we need to break camp and get moving. Quickly.’

As they headed to pack up their blankets, Liska couldn’t shake the feeling of ominous certainty that the Poxpunks were coming after them. And she thought she had a good idea who might be riding along with them.

*

Walking through the ruined city was slow and difficult. Many of the streets they started down turned out to be choked with rubble, forcing them to turn back on themselves.

More than once Liska suggested flying up to find a path, but Elowen insisted she knew the way. Every now and then she stopped to rest her hand against a wall, lost in sad memories. And all the while, Lug moaned about his blisters and aching feet. Didn’t they realise they were being chased by a murderous hunter?

As they finally neared the northern edge of Almberg, they reached a point where the forest had begun to eat into the ruins, smothering everything in root and vine.

Unlike the neat, ordered and groomed trees of Arborven, this was wild growth. Mats of ivy and moss covered everything. Brambles knitted themselves across what used to be roads and alleyways. Anywhere there was a crack or a tiny scrap of earth, life had grown in it.

Trying to tear their way through was painfully slow, and eventually they reached a point where the undergrowth was just too thick.