‘There must be a way in,’ Liska said, wincing as she plucked a sharp thorn from the back of her hand. ‘An animal path or an old road . . .’

Elowen was staring at a tumbled pile of stone, half hidden under a thick layer of greenery. ‘I think that used to be my school,’ she said.

‘I don’t suppose your powers have come back yet?’ Lug asked her. ‘Maybe the memories have helped it along? If you know any arbomancy, you could move the plants out of our way.’

Elowen waved her china-white hands in the air but nothing happened. ‘Sorry,’ she said.

Lug leant close to Liska and muttered in her ear. ‘Knowing our luck, she’ll turn out to be a mossherder anyway.’

Liska rolled her eyes. ‘Then I should definitely fly above now. See if I can spot a way through . . .’

‘No need,’ said Fishbone. ‘Save your magic. I is climbing up to see.’

Claws bared, he ran up the trunk of a nearby tree, then leapt from the branches on to the shell of a ruined building. Using the ivy for pawholds, he scrambled up to the top and peered out across the remains of the city.

‘Path that way!’ His voice echoed down to them and Liska could see him pointing off to the east.

‘Look south!’ Liska called. ‘Is that Poxpunk craft still coming this way?’

Fishbone span around and peered out over the Waste. ‘Sure is,’ he shouted. ‘Much closer now.’

Lug’s face, rosy-cheeked after all their walking, instantly paled again. ‘You don’t think it’s . . .?’

Liska didn’t answer. Instead, she began to clamber up the ivy-coated wall that Fishbone perched on. She could have just shifted and flown up, but Fishbone’s idea about saving her magic was a good one. And besides, part of her wanted to show the cat-creature that he wasn’t the only one who could climb.

Her feet dug out toeholds of missing bricks, her fingers clutched empty window frames and pieces of carved statue. Legs and faces, worn smooth by the centuries and with most of their bodies now missing, poked out of the ivy.

A few minutes later, she dragged her top half on to the small platform of brick where Fishbone was perched. He was licking his tail with his pink sandpaper tongue and giving her a look that said ‘what took you so long?’

Liska ignored him, heaving her legs up after her and trying not to look as though she was panting for breath. Getting to her knees, she looked to the south, seeing the forest-coated ruins give way to the deserted stone jungle of empty Almberg. Beyond that was the dry, rocky Waste and there, streaming a plume of dust behind it, was a Poxpunk wagon ship.