'You've gone very pale,' said Tenris in his beautiful, gentle voice.

'I'm I just need to find Torak,' she said.

'So do I,' he said, and a corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. It was a smile full of warmth, but as Renn met his calm grey gaze, she knew with a clutch of terror that he'd seen the knowledge in her face. He knew that she knew.

'Come,' he said, reaching out and taking her icy fingers in his. 'Let's go and get something to eat.'

Then he saw the scab on her hand, and his face contracted in pity. 'Oh, my poor child, what's this?'

Before she could reply, he turned to the Seal boy. 'Look, Bale. The poor little thing has the sickness.'

Bale stared at her hand; then his own crept to his clan-creature skin.

'No I don't,' protested Renn, trying to pull her hand from the strong, steady grip. 'It's not the sickness, it's a -'

'You mustn't worry any more,' said the Seal Mage, taking both her hands in his. 'From now on, I will look after you.'

THIRTY.

Torak was woken by Wolf licking his nose. He was too tired to open his eyes. Instead he snuggled closer, pressing his face into soft wolf fur. He felt wonderfully warm and safe and it was so quiet. No seabirds. No wind. Just the sighing of the Sea and the beat of Wolf's heart against his own.

Lick, lick, lick.

Hazily he remembered finding his way ash.o.r.e. Wolf knocking him backwards into the sand, and keeping him there with a frenzy of snuffle-licks. Then curling up together and slipping down into sleep . . .

The licking turned to grooming-nibbles. Then a sharp, impatient nudge under his chin. Wake up!

He opened his eyes.

Crunchy sand under his cheek; Wolf's whiskers tickling his eyelids. Beyond that nothing. The fog was so thick that he couldn't tell Sea from sky.

How long had he been asleep?

The cure.

He jerked upright, heart pounding. Where was he? Where was Tenris? It was Midsummer night had they missed their chance? The fog blotted out the sun. He couldn't tell.

He got to his feet and the blood soughed in his ears. He was stiff and sore all over. Thirst burned his throat.

Somewhere not far off, he heard a trickling sound. He stumbled through the fog, and splashed into a shallow stream choked with weeds. He knelt and gulped handfuls of gritty water.

Wolf trotted over to him, his paws making no noise on the sand. Still on his knees, Torak nuzzled his scruff and said a heartfelt thank you.

Wolf swung his tail and licked the corner of Torak's mouth. My pack-brother.

Feeling slightly better, Torak stood up and looked about. He still couldn't see two paces ahead, but this sand was familiar. White, coa.r.s.ely crushed seash.e.l.ls. Maybe he was closer to the Seal camp than he'd dared hope . . .

To his right he heard the lapping of the Sea. He staggered across the beach and suddenly birch trees and tumbled boulders loomed out of the mist. He ran towards them.

Behind him Wolf gave a low, shuddering growl.

Torak spun round.

Wolf's head was down, his lips peeled back in a snarl.

Whipping out his knife, Torak dropped to the ground and spoke in an urgent grunt-whine. What is it?

More growls. The fur on Wolf's hackles stood on end. Torak felt the hairs on his own neck p.r.i.c.kling. And yet he couldn't see anything amiss. Up ahead, the birch trees were utterly still.

I have to go on, he told Wolf.

Again Wolf growled, warning him back.

Never before had Torak ignored his warnings, and it felt wrong to do so now. But he had to find Tenris. I have to go on, he said again. Please. Come with me!

To his dismay, Wolf backed away, growling.

Full of misgiving, Torak rose and entered the trees without him.

He was halfway through when a strong hand gripped his arm. 'There you are!' cried Tenris. 'Thank the Sea Mother you're safe!'

Torak glanced back over his shoulder but Wolf was gone.

'We thought you'd drowned!' said Tenris, pulling him through the remaining trees.

'You frightened me,' said Torak.

'Sorry,' said Tenris. 'Come, let's go! Time's short, we've got to get up to the Crag.'

'You still have the selik root?' said Torak as they ran across the beach.

'Yes, of course!'

'And Bale? Did he make it ash.o.r.e?'

'Yes, he's fine, he's guarding he's fine.'

Torak stopped. 'Guarding who?'

Tenris's face became grave. 'She's sick, Torak. We had to lock her up.'

'Who?' said Torak. 'Who's sick?'

'It doesn't matter,' said Tenris. 'Come, we're wasting time.'

'Who is it?' Torak insisted. But a part of him already knew.

'Torak -'

'It's Renn, isn't it? Tenris, please. I need to see her.'

Tenris sighed. 'It'll have to be quick.' At a run he led Torak through the deserted Seal camp and out to the cave at the end of the bay, where the man who'd killed the whale had spent his lonely vigil. 'We put her where we kept them before,' he said as they drew near.

The cave mouth was all but sealed by a ma.s.sive door of whale bone and seal hide, and Bale stood on guard with a harpoon. When he saw Torak, his face lit up. Torak pushed past him without a word.

Through a gap between the door and the cave wall, he saw Renn pacing up and down. It was too dark to see her properly, but he made out her dishevelled hair and furious expression; and the sore on the back of her hand. A cold weight sank inside him like a stone.

When she saw him, her face cleared. 'Torak! Oh, thank the Spirit! Now get me out of here!'

'Renn I can't,' he said. 'You're sick.'

Her mouth fell open. 'But you don't believe them. Of course I'm not sick!'

Behind him, Tenris put his hand on his shoulder. 'They all say that,' he murmured under his breath. 'But don't worry, Bale will look after her. And I've made sure she'll not go hungry.'

When she saw the Mage, Renn shrank back. 'Get away from me!' Then to Torak, 'I'm not sick!'

'Tenris is right,' said Bale, gripping the harpoon so hard that his knuckles were white. 'My brother was just the same.'

'Renn,' said Torak, putting both hands on the seal-hide door. 'I'll bring you the cure, I promise. You will get -'

'I don't need the cure!' she spat. 'Why don't you believe me?' She pointed at Tenris. 'It's him! He's the Soul-Eater!'

'In the end they suspect everyone,' said Bale.

'Why won't you believe me?' cried Renn. 'Tell him to show you his mark! Make him show you his tattoo! He's a Soul-Eater!'

Tenris touched Torak's arm. 'Torak, we have to go or it'll be too late for her or anyone else.'

'No Torak don't go!' shouted Renn. 'He'll kill you! Torak!' She threw herself against the door.

Bale braced it with his shoulder. 'Go,' he told Torak. 'I'll make sure she comes to no harm.'

'You will get better!' called Torak. 'I promise! You will get better!'

'Torak!' she screamed. 'Come back!'

With her cries ringing in his ears, Torak followed Tenris into the fog.

'Quickly,' muttered the Seal Mage. 'The turn of the sun is close, I can feel it.'

With Renn's cries fading behind them, they started up the trail. Soon all Torak could hear was his own breathing and the sound of water trickling over the rocks. He felt oppressed by a choking sense of wrongness. In the s.p.a.ce of a few heartbeats, he'd ignored warnings from both Wolf and Renn.

A clatter of claws behind him.

He swung round. Wolf?

He couldn't see anything in the swirling whiteness except Tenris up ahead, disappearing into the fog. 'Tenris!' he called. 'Wait for me!'

More clattering claws then a small humped figure scuttled across the trail. Not Wolf. The tokoroth.

Torak raced forwards. 'Tenris! Look out! The tokoroth!'

Pain exploded in his head, and the rocks rushed up to meet him.

Torak woke with a start.

His head was throbbing, his shoulders ached. Someone had taken off his jerkin and laid him on a cold stone slab. Someone had tied his wrists together, pulled his arms above his head, and hooked them over a horn of rock. The binding was tight he couldn't wriggle out although if he could push himself up with his heels, he might be able to unhook his wrists and . . .

Someone gripped his ankles, holding him back. Someone with sharp claws and a knife. When he tried to kick free, they pressed its point against his calf.

Mist swirled about him, tinged blue with woodsmoke. He heard the crackle of a fire, and caught the tang of juniper. He couldn't hear the Sea. He must be high up on the cliffs.

At his feet, two demon eyes glared at him from a face tattooed with leaves.

Fear settled on him like a second skin. He was on the Crag, laid out on the altar rock, guarded by the tokoroth.

Then a second tokoroth emerged from the smoke. A girl with matted hair falling to her knees, and stick limbs covered in bruises. Her fingernails and toenails were yellow, and filed to long, pointed claws.

In silence she leaned over him, and his skin crawled as her greasy locks brushed his belly. Her bony fingers drew his father's knife from the sheath at his belt.

'What do you want?' he whispered.

In silence she raised the knife in both hands.

'What do you want?'

In silence she laid the cold slate knife on his chest.

A soft clinking in the mist and both tokoroth cowered on the ground.

A figure loomed out of the mist. With every step, the puffin beaks clinked at his belt.

Torak felt as if he were falling from a great height. All the kindness, the gentleness . . . All a lie. Wolf had been right. Renn had been right. And he had been wrong, wrong, wrong.

The Seal Mage had taken off his jerkin to reveal a lean, muscled body that was horribly burnt down the whole of the left side. His arms were smeared with wood-ash, obscuring his clan-tattoos. His face was an ashen mask as if, thought Torak with a sick sense of dread he were already mourning someone dead. He wore no amulet, except for a twist of something red and shrunken on a thong at his neck, and his naked chest was unmarked, save for a stark black tattoo over the heart. A three-p.r.o.nged fork for snaring souls. The mark of the Soul-Eater.

'You,' said Torak. 'A Soul-Eater.'

'One of the seven, Torak.' His voice was the only thing that hadn't changed. Still beautiful; still as calm and powerful as the Sea on a sunlit day. 'But with your help,' he said quietly, 'I shall rise above the others. I shall become the greatest of them all.'