the clock tower. It’s far out. They have to be safe.
And at first their house looks miraculously untouched. But then I see the door, gaping open like a wound, and I see the darkness inside.
“Don’t,” Dimia says as I walk towards it, but I shake her off, leaving her behind me as I approach the house.
When I get closer, my heart hammering in my chest, I see a flicker of light near the kitchen. Hope floods through me, and I move to the doorway.
“Lirys?” I call softly. “Carys?”
The light grows as the owner of the candle steps towards me.
It’s not my friend.
A dark-haired man stands before me, his teeth as black as his hair, a knife in his other hand. I scream in rage and raise my knife, and he throws the candle at me, hot wax splashing against my hand and I drop my knife.
“There’s a girl here!” he calls, and I turn on my heels and bolt.
“Run!” I scream at Dimia’s startled face, and she does, lifting her skirts and starting to run.
I grab her as I pass her and we tear away from the farm, my knee throbbing with every hard step. When I look back I see other men, bearded, sallow-skinned and armed to the teeth, pouring out of the dairy and the cowsheds, like ants from a nest. Their hands are red with blood and I grip Dimia’s wrist tighter, dragging her forward.
I guide us towards the town square, hoping we can lose them in the labyrinthine streets around the merchant quarters, racing down narrow alleys, left, then right, stumbling over rubble and household objects the fog blinds us to. Somewhere behind us voices chase and footsteps echo, urging us to move faster, to not stop.
When we break out on to the square I lengthen my stride, putting all of my energy into getting us across it, into the guild area, where we can climb to the walls and hide. We’re halfway across when Dimia shrieks and pulls me to a halt.
Appearing from inside the fog like a nightmare and blocking our path is a golem.
I try to double back, but too late: its colossal hand thrusts forward and grips my arm, its clay fingers crushing my wrist.
“Errin!” Dimia screams as it hauls me into the air, black spots exploding in my eyes, my arm feeling as though it will tear from its socket. It hurts so much I can’t breathe. It raises me until I’m level with its head, as if looking at me. As I dangle in its grip, I see the men out of the corner of my eye. They’ve stopped; some of them watch Dimia and some watch the golem. I get the distinct impression they’re keen to stay out of its reach, even as they try to edge around it towards Dimia.
“Go,” I shriek at her, and the golem swings around, taking me with it. Then I’m soaring through the air, the moon above me. Stars burst behind my eyes as I hit the side of a building, something in my back snapping with a faint pop. A second later pain explodes with such force that I can’t even scream, choked by the agony of it. Then I can’t feel anything, lying on the ground, staring up at the night.
Everything goes black.
When I wake I’m still on the ground. I blink rapidly, too stunned to move. From the corner of my eye, I see a flash, then Dimia comes into view waving a large wooden pole, the end alight. She stands a little away from me, thrusting it at the golem, which is trying to get past it, reaching for her. There’s no sign of the men, and there is a moment when I wonder if I’ve been knocked deaf, the quietness is so loud. The golem has no mouth, and Dimia makes no noise either; the only sound is the sizzling from her torch when it touches the golem’s clay hide, and the scuffles of her boots against the ground when she dodges its attack.
She thrusts the flaming pole into the golem’s hand, making it stagger backwards out of my sight. Then it charges forward, she darts aside, and I roll out of the way.
Except I don’t. I don’t go anywhere.
I try to wiggle my toes, then move my knees, my hips. I don’t know if they move, I can’t feel them. I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel anything. I should be in agony. It threw me