It drove into Luka’s and Emilia’s eyes and ran down the back of their necks, drenching their clothes. They hunched their shoulders and trudged on, both resting one of their hands on Rollo’s thick ruff. They could see nothing through the darkness and the rain. Luka felt a new understanding of how difficult life was for Emilia’s brother, nine-year-old Noah, who had been blind since he was four. Every sound seemed sinister, and every step was taken with trepidation, with no sure knowledge of what dangers lay ahead. If it were not for Rollo, who loped along tirelessly with his nose to the trail, Luka would have been too afraid to take a single step. Yet at least the wild weather meant the road was empty. There was no point trying to seek shelter under a tree or behind the hedge, for the rain was driving at such an angle there was nowhere dry to rest. So Luka and Emilia had decided to push on, covering as much ground as they could before they once again had to leave the road and duck and weave their way across fields and heaths, as they had done all that long, weary day.
