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what … to run like mad if anything happens, OK?’
    â€˜I’m prepared,’ Aisling whispered. ‘I’m not going to let any kind of ghoulie or ghostie or long-leggedy beastie get me. And by the way, why are we whispering?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ said Julie in a normal voice. ‘It just seemed appropriate.’
    Aisling grinned. ‘I’m glad you have a sense of atmosphere. That’s going to make this adventure a lot more colourful.’
    Julie turned her head to hide a smile; at the word ‘adventure’, she had felt warmth blooming in her belly.
    She strode out for the nearest building she could see with a lit window, not bothering to check whether Aisling was following, and stared long and hard at the door. It was large, wooden, dark with age and reinforced with strips of metal, like something from a medieval castle. It had a big black lock and what looked like a giant peephole. It also had a knocker in the shape of a merhorse. ‘Look, it’s our friend,’ she said and reached for the knocker.
    â€˜I’m not your friend,’ said the knocker before she could knock. ‘I’ve never even met yous.’
    Julie jumped and let out a squeak.
    â€˜Beg your pardon,’ said Aisling gravely. ‘What my … companion here meant was that you resemble someone we spoke to recently.’
    â€˜Ah, that’ll be The Lungs. Though he doesn’t like it when we call him that.’
    â€˜Why not?’ said Julie.
    The merhorse-knocker laughed, a rattling, wheezy laugh that sounded like a handful of stones being tossed around in a metal bucket. ‘Says it’s not right to call a craythur by a derogatory make-name. And I says to him, “Sure, what’s derogatory about that? And isn’t it true, besides, that you’ve a pair of lungs on you to beat the band?” Sure, he’s the only one out of the lot of them that can be in the River and talking to someone on the quays. That’s how I knew who yous meant.’
    â€˜I see,’ said Aisling. ‘Well, perhaps you can help us, if you’re free?’
    â€˜If I’m free? If I’m free, she says. I’m only a bleedin’ door-knocker. What would I be doing if I wasn’t free?’
    â€˜You make an excellent point,’ said Aisling, ‘but I didn’t want to impose. Will you help us, then?’
    â€˜If I can,’ said the knocker, ‘but if yous want someone to carry your shopping, yous are out of luck.’
    Aisling nodded, her face perfectly serious, and said, ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
    Julie turned away and bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing.
    â€˜Really,’ Aisling went on, ‘all we wanted was to know – it’s so quiet. There are no people around, apart from yourself, of course, and … em … “The Lungs”. Is something going on? Where is everybody?’
    The knocker was quiet for a long moment. Julie felt the suppressed laughter fading away and she turned to face the door. The knocker’s expression hadn’t changed much – perhaps it couldn’t change much, being made of metal – but she thought it looked a little sterner than before.
    â€˜Yous are new,’ it said at last. ‘Blow-ins! I should have guessed before. Well, no help for it now. The gates are closed and yous are stuck here until they open again, and that won’t be soon.’
    â€˜That’s what The Lungs said,’ said Julie. ‘But why isn’t there anyone on the streets?’
    â€˜Same reason the gates are closed,’ said the knocker. ‘Because the queen said so. There’s a curfew, see? And yous are out well past it, so it’s as well that the likes of me don’t give a tinker’s cuss what the queen says, or yous’d feel the long arm of the law on yeer shoulders.’
    â€˜The law?’ said Aisling. ‘Would we be