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Sorry, Pickle? Three went in, two came back …, Jeren firmed her jaw.I cant let Gilliad go through his coronation alone. Hes my brother and Father would have expected me to be here for him. They laughed and even that laughter was beautiful.We know you better. One last time will never be enough. It will never be the last time, Shanith Al-Fallion. Jo shakes her head, coldly.Where was he, eh? When things were going well? How often did you see him? What about those trips to TV studios or placements on newspapers or free entry to museums that owed him a favour? None of it happened. Too busy. Too busy living high and living well. No thought for you until he literally had nobody to wipe his backside and suddenly hes the uncle of the year? Bollocks. She gathers up her stuff, her face contorted. “Im going to work in the study. Snowdrop, dont be long. And Rowan, if you drink the last of the bottle you’ll find some methylated spirit in the garage. There’s cranberry juice in the fridge if you need a mixer. Aface. Groggily, she reaches out for the last dregs of her water-glass. Tips it into her mouth and swallows, drily. Shes pleased the whisky bottle was almost empty when she unscrewed the lid. Shed have kept on drinking were there more to drink. Rivers stiffened for a moment before closing the blinds and flipping the switch for the overhead lights. Id never challenged him before. Lazily, he flicks a glance in her direction.I dont know, he says. “It just comes out of me. I think it might be Sanskrit.. His voice is hypnotic. Accentless. “Its the voice of those who walk with me. Of my guide. They lend me their strength as I search for my own.” But Dervin didnt listen. He grinned as he came at her. His stained teeth were broken and his eyes yellowed from drink. Jeren scrambled back, her eyes darting from knife to face and back again as she fought through mindless panic. She dragged you to the window and lifted you up and over the sill away from the smoke. She saved your life. Gabriel walked to the window and stared out. Did you get a look at the guy who hit you? You still there Rowan? asks Chris, forced jollity entering his voice. Look, if youre really interested you should have a look on the Mountain Rescues online archive, its pretty good. I think it was Jason – he passed away a few years back – who brought them home. He was always good with us but apparently he wasn’t allowed to talk about the incident, so draw your own conclusions there. He swallows, drily, as the image on the bare brick comes into focus. He thinks of cave paintings: ancient finger-paintings of elongated figures; ridge-back game and huge deer with splayed-finger antlers. Some of them overlap one another, layer after layer of stick figure, running, kneeling, holding hands. Something that might be stars spin around the crown of one larger figure: bearded, pink-prick eyes; a suggestion of tangled crown and beard. Beside it are three smaller figures, holding hands, like paper dolls. Rowan changes his position, breathing hard. Shines his torch at the entirety of the wall and feels as though somebody has stepped upon his insides. He breath catches in his throat as he takes in a colossal swirl overlaid handprints, of scratches and scuffs scored so deeply into the neatly-painted wall that in places it seems as though the outline has been scratched into the brick by bleeding, frenzied hands. Rowan sees perfectly round eyes. A face made up from swatches of different skin. Its a patchwork pig mask; crinkled leather and a snarl of yellowed teeth and tusk. Rowan hears his heart thumping hard; a drumbeat, soft but insistent. It grows, louder, deeper, as he stares again at the great face on the wall. For a moment, in the light of the torch, the shapes upon the wall seemto move. They flicker, like tongues of fire; stick-men and long-dead beasts strobing in an orgy of ecstatic worship around the leering central figure. The old Jeren. That was a joke, wasnt it? Standing over Indarin, she looked down into her teachers face. He was pale, even for a Feyna. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes distant. Jeren screamed, but fear didnt freeze her. She twisted out of his way, slamming the door shut behind him. Before Shan knew what was happening, she had locked Gilliad inside and thrown the keys into the shadows. There was no bar to the door now, but without the key to the locks he didnt have a hope of getting back in. Max opened the door.Lunch is ready. If youre finished, come on. Im starved. Kiah!.