HE PYREBOYS DISAPPEARED, LEAVING THE LIGHT OF THE shore behind them.

“If that boy Frax just added that last part,” said Delphi, “does that mean the first part was true about the magic man?”

“There is something unhinged about that boy,” said Oland. “As for the first part of his story, I have no idea.”

“None of the Pyreboys acted like it was new,” said Delphi. “What could the magic have been, I wonder.” She paused. “Does it not sound like what Malben spoke of: the distillations, extractions, essences and infusions?”

Oland had no desire to answer that, because he thought that to answer yes would be of no reassurance to either of them.

“For now, all we know is that it’s a story,” he said.

“I wonder what happened to that boy’s arm,” said Delphi.

“Maybe he was snatched by a drogue,” said Oland, laughing. He paused. “Now, how are we to know where to go in the dark?”

“By taking a torch?” said Delphi.

They laughed. The wind whipped up and blew black dust into their eyes and mouths. They coughed and wiped at their eyes.

“This dust is terrible,” said Oland.

“We can only hope that the wind dies down,” said Delphi. She paused. “We should have approached the Pyreboys.”

“We’re not supposed to be here,” said Oland. “And you’re forgetting they’re criminals.”

“What can they do?” said Delphi.

“Any number of things,” said Oland.

“They don’t seem like they would hurt us,” said Delphi.

“Even if they didn’t,” said Oland, “who knows what else is on Curfew Peak?”

“I’m not listening to you when you talk like this,” said Delphi. “You brought us here. I was the one who didn’t want to come, so you are obliged to stay positive. Otherwise, we have no hope.” Delphi had already started to walk ahead. “I’m following them,” she said. “Because they are the only people we have seen.”

Oland caught up with her and they walked the path the Pyreboys had taken. The wind did not die down as they had wanted. Instead, it continued to rise in gusts, swirling the dust around them. They turned away from it, but it seemed to encircle them. At first it made them cough, but, as the dust was so fine, they became used to inhaling it and it was only their eyes that seemed to be affected. They bowed their heads and kept moving.

“This won’t end well,” said Delphi.

“Stop,” said Oland.

“But it won’t,” said Delphi. “I feel like this island is crawling all over me and pulling me in.”

“It’s just an island,” said Oland.

“It’s not just an island,” said Delphi. “I have a bad feeling.” She walked faster.

“What would you know?” said Oland. His voice was like a whip.

Delphi stopped dead. She turned to him, her eyes flaming red, her pupils huge. She drew back her hand and slapped Oland hard across the face.

He gasped.

“What did you say to me?” she said.

“Delphi…” said Oland. He moved towards her, his eyes wild. He was suddenly overwhelmed with rage. He pushed her hard. She fell backward on to the ground, throwing up a cloud of black dust. All Oland could see through the darkness were Delphi’s eyes, burning like flames. She jumped towards him and kicked him hard in the stomach. Oland gasped as he rolled on to his knees, coughing and spitting. His heart was pounding, his hands shaking. He rose slowly to face Delphi. Water streamed from his eyes and nose. Delphi wiped the back of her hand across her face and spat on the ground. She stepped towards him, her fists already raised.

“I said,” shouted Oland, “what would you know? You’ve barely been outside your door all your life!”

Delphi went to punch him.

Startled, Oland blocked it, grabbing her wrist and holding it firm between them. Delphi stood staring through him, almost in a trance.

“Get out of my way!” she roared, pulling her arm back. Her eyes bored through him. A shiver ran up his spine.

“No wonder your father had to lock you up—”

“Because he was worried!” said Delphi.

“And did you believe that?” said Oland. “Did you believe everything that Chancey the Gold told you?”

“Of course I did!” said Delphi. “Why are you asking me that?”

“You told me that you fell ill in Galenore when you were young, and that there were no doctors there to treat you,” said Oland. “We passed three doctors’ rooms—”

“They might not have been there six years ago!” said Delphi.

“They were!” said Oland. “They were all established at least nine years ago – it said so on the plaques beside their doors.”

“I was only telling you what I remember…” she shouted.

“Or what you made up,” said Oland. “Or what Chancey the Gold told you. Maybe you’re both liars!”

Delphi’s eyes widened. “I’m telling you the truth,” she said. “You don’t know what it feels like to have no freedom, to be forced to stay—”

“Everything I did I was forced to do!” said Oland.

“You’ve never had a father to answer to,” said Delphi. “And The Craven Lodge never cared what you did. You had the run of a castle, you could come and go as you pleased as long as you polished their boots—”

“Polished their boots!” said Oland.

He stood watching Delphi, feeling the anger that radiated off her churning with his own rage. It was disturbing. He wanted her to get away from him. He couldn’t comprehend it.

“Well, whatever you did for them, you were free,” said Delphi.

“Oh, yes,” said Oland. “How wonderful it was to be able to run free in the pitch dark of a miserable kingdom—”

“Then why didn’t you leave?” said Delphi. “I don’t understand why you didn’t run from that life if it was so terrible.”

“I don’t expect you to understand after the cosseted life you’ve led!” said Oland, his voice rising. “Are people slaves because they choose to be? You have no idea how The Craven Lodge can torture a mind. And it’s not just mine. It’s the entire kingdom! Why didn’t the whole of Decresian just leave?” He paused to draw breath, sucking in more dust. “And on top of everything, I have drawn the wrath of Villius Ren even more than usual, just by going into his private room. And let’s not forget his reaction to me slaying those panthers—”

“And weren’t you lucky,” said Delphi, “that glory was the prize?”

“A man’s life was the prize,” said Oland.

He remembered how Malachy Graham had lived for just one more day after what happened in the arena. Everything that Oland had been trying to bury came rushing back to him.

“Why does it matter to you whether I left the castle years ago?” he said.

“Because it would have shown that you were—”

“What?” said Oland. “Brave?” He had begun to shout. “And what if my mother had come back? What if my mother had come back to find me? And I was gone! Then what?”

They stared at each other. Moments passed.

“Go away,” said Oland. “Just leave me alone.”

Delphi turned around towards the peak. Oland watched as she pulled up her hood and ran ahead, the wind with its swirling black dust sweeping her oilskin cape up behind her. He called to her. She didn’t turn around. She didn’t even break her stride.

The wind whipped at Oland’s hair and stung his eyes. Then he remembered what Bream had said. It was the dust. The dust was causing their anger! The Pyreboys had kerchiefs around their necks. They must have been to wrap around their mouths to stop them inhaling it.

Oland ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of his tunic.

“Delphi!” he shouted. “Delphi!”

He started to walk towards her, but she had moved so quickly ahead, his words were being carried away. “Delphi!” he shouted. There was no reply. He couldn’t tell where she had gone. He pulled out his tinderbox and, using the flint and steel, showered sparks on to the sand. He wanted to make her laugh; he wanted to see her face. Delphi turned around and smiled. Oland waved the fabric at her and pointed at his face. She watched as he wrapped it around his mouth. She ripped a piece from the bottom of her top and did the same. Oland was relieved to see that she stood waiting for him. He could feel his own anger ebb away.

But, drawn by the smallest of sparks, a band of drogues leapt from the darkness. It was Delphi they were closest to. And it was Delphi they encircled.