Even the youngest members of the camp lay awake in their wagons, wide-eyed with fear. Gryff sat just back from the campfire, facing out towards the trees, his ears swivelling at the slightest noise. And around the fire, sitting on tree stumps, were the Elders, together with Moll, Alfie and Siddy. Hard-Times Bob puffed on his pipe. ‘You did well, Moll – fighting back against the Dream Snatch like that.’ Moll pulled the rug tighter around her. ‘I don’t understand why the Dream Snatch opened up the last bits of my nightmare. Why do the Shadowmasks want me to know about the Soul Splinter?’ Cinderella Bull stoked the fire and her gold-penny shawl jangled. ‘They don’t. The Shadowmasks wanted you to give yourself up to Hemlock’s poison and their Dream Snatch. They thought, now they know your name, they’d be strong enough to destroy your mind, but you fought back before they could work their curse in full. And, in fighting back so hard, you uncovered the memory they wanted you to forget.’ Gryff crept towards the fire and burrowed beneath Moll’s rug, away from the eyes of the camp.
