Squinting, Liska could make out the sails and smoking chimneys of the vehicle as it chugged towards the ruins. Even as she watched, it ground to a halt, the dust cloud catching up with it and hiding it for a few seconds.

It had halted a hundred metres from the city, as if the drivers were scared to venture too close.

Perhaps they believe it’s haunted, Liska thought. Then she remembered what Elowen had said about those like her, how they might be endlessly sleeping beneath those pillars of crumbled stone. Perhaps it really is.

As the cloud of sand cleared, Liska could make out tiny figures moving about on the craft’s deck. A hatch opened in the side, dropping down to become a ramp. Liska held her breath, fearing what might emerge, and yet knowing at the same time just what she’d see.

And she was right. A tall, wiry figure stalking down the rampway, followed by a low, slinking, dog-shaped thing. Then another, and another and another.

Seven of them, Liska counted. Seven seeper hounds for us to escape. Not to mention Thresher herself.

‘Well?’ Lug’s voice carried up to them from the mass of leaves and brambles below. Even from up here, you could hear the tremble in it. ‘Is it her?’

‘It’s her,’ Liska called back. Just saying it made her feel sick with worry. ‘We’d better get moving.’

‘But we flew for miles and miles!’ Lug shouted. ‘How can she have caught up with us?’

Liska could just about hear Elowen’s reply to him. Calm and reasoned, as if she wasn’t the least bit worried an evil killer was after them. ‘If she stole a vehicle soon after we took off and drove all night she could have made up the distance. And we slept until noon, don’t forget.’

‘Worms take her!’ Lug’s curse echoed around the ruins.

Fishbone tutted, then silently moved to the edge of the platform, slipping over head first, flowing down the stonework like water. Liska moved to follow, allowing herself a last look over the ruins, at the cluster of figures heading their way.

How long before they caught up with them? How much time did they have?

She decided she didn’t even want to think about those questions. There was only one thing they could do now and she hoped it would be enough.

They could run.

*

The path was nothing more than a muddy groove, worn bare by the paws of animals. Tall banks of thorny sloe and hawthorn trees pressed in on both sides, meeting overhead in a kind of low roof that would make everyone except Fishbone stoop or crouch to move along.

Liska sniffed. Her sensitive nose picked out a strong, musky odour. One she was familiar with from her scent lessons and survival training. One with a distinctly doggy hint to it. Fishbone recognised it instantly, too.