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side-effects of having Lharmellin blood and he seemed to be able to turn it on and off on a whim. Right now he was using the light to clean his crossbow.
    I pictured the world map in my head, using the tor-line as a compass and measure of distance. The thread was quite useful that way: its tautness and angle told me just how far we’d travelled from Xallentaria, and in which direction.
    ‘What will you ask the captain of the guard when we reach Rendine?’
    Rodden didn’t look up. ‘I want the most up-to-date reports on missing persons and dead bodies. He might reveal other things as well, things that are playing on his mind but seem too inconsequential to put in a report. It’s the little things that will help us now. But we should get some sleep. Good night.’ He wrapped his cloak around himself and lay with his back to me.
    I watched the stars appear through the branches ofthe tree above, enjoying the drowsiness a day in the saddle had caused. It wasn’t long until I fell asleep.

    We reached Rendine in the mid-afternoon two days later. It was located inland on the River Frix and was small and sleepy, more like my home city of Prestoral than Xallentaria. Rodden booked us into a tavern and then we went straight to see the captain of the guard.
    The guardhouse was right in the centre of town. From its front door I could see the market square, a smithy, a millwheel turning on the river. Outside, a knot of soldiers sat on benches.
    ‘I’m looking for Captain Tibble,’ Rodden told them.
    A balding man with a heavy black moustache looked up. ‘’At’d be me. Who’s askin’?’
    ‘Rodden Lothskorn.’
    The man’s bushy eyebrows crept up his forehead. He stood up, offering his hand. The two men shook firmly.
    ‘It’s an honour to ’ave you in Rendine, sir. Where y’staying?’
    ‘The Pig and Gristle.’
    ‘Aye,’ said Tibble approvingly. ‘Gobbin there’ll see y’right.’
    What charming names these country folk had.
    ‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’ asked Rodden.
    Tibble stood back to allow us into the guardhouse and seemed to notice me for the first time. ‘Who be this?’ he asked, eyeing me up and down.
    I stood up straight, resting my hand on the knife at my belt. ‘Zeraphina Herm –’
    ‘My sister,’ interrupted Rodden.
    Tibble regarded us, his moustache twitching. Then he held out his arm, indicating we should go inside. Despite the fact that we both had black hair and icy blue eyes, I could tell he didn’t believe that we were siblings, and I swept inside with all the dignity I could muster in trousers and travel-grime.
    ‘Your latest report didn’t say much,’ Rodden said, as soon as we were seated.
    ‘’At’s because I din’t have much to say.’ Then as an afterthought he added, ‘Sir.’
    ‘You’ve been checking for exsanguination, as ordered?’
    ‘Aye.’
    ‘You reported none.’
    ‘’At’s because we’ve had naught. T’only dead body we’ve had this month be old Bobby Jopper.’
    ‘And what was the cause of death?’
    ‘He got drunk, fell in t’river and was dragged under t’millwheel.’ Tibble tutted and shook his head.
    ‘I see,’ said Rodden. ‘And have there been any strange occurrences since?’
    ‘Nay. T’millwheel be right as rain now, y’can see for y’self.’
    Rodden looked at me. ‘Was there anything you’d like to ask, Sister?’
    I racked my brains for something intelligent to ask, but the image of the poor drunk under the millwheel was still stuck in my mind. I shook my head.
    Rodden stood. ‘Thank you for your time, Captain Tibble. You know where we are if you think of anything else.’
    As we walked back to the tavern Rodden looked gloomy.
    ‘I remember a time,’ I mused, ‘when a lack of dead, bloodless bodies was a good thing. Such happy days they were.’
    ‘This is not a case of no news is good news. It would be helpful to discover something.’
    ‘Does the discovery have to be dead?’
    ‘When it involves harmings,