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Enemies closed ranks around Toby. Surprisingly, he registered Jack jostling between them and stooping over him.
Over the silver-haired elf’s shoulder, Stella trembled. Veins protruded in her face and blood trickled more freely from her nose. She was fighting to resist her natural instincts to the point of agony. If Toby didn’t say something, he feared she might explode.
‘It’s OK,’ he croaked, hoping she could hear. ‘You didn’t mean it. I forgive you.’
After that, the dark took him as though sleep were a hessian sack yanked over his head. That was when the memories began.
It started when he was little, at the workhouse. Mr Snarky – or Hans Trapp as he now knew him – was ranting on a staircase, having just pushed a boy too exhausted to work.
Next, Toby was in a conversation with ano
