Verity woke with a start. The sun was low in the sky, the falling stars bright against the dark blue. A flock of strawcrows flew across the clearing, winged darts plunging through the sky.

The priest was still sitting there; but he was no longer praying. A man was striding towards them both.

'We need to go now, Father!' shouted the man.

'I'm not leaving her,' said the priest, his voice cracked but resolute. 'You'll have to take me by force, and bind me in the chapel like her. Is that what you want?'

'Leave him,' said Hope, coming up behind the man. 'Leave him, Goodman Spade. If this is what he wants, he can have it. Goodbye, Father. Now, everyone, into the chapel.'

Verity couldn't see them, because the priest was between her and the chapel; but she could hear them walking away, boots in the mud. This was it. This was her end.

The chapel door closed with a thud, sealing them safe from the grey things of the night. Then, the priest reached into his bag and pulled out a short knife. He started cutting the ropes at her hands.

'Don't move yet,' said Father Hooper. 'They're probably watching us through the door. I'll make it look like I'm praying for you. Let's get you as free as we can, though.'

The rope binding her wrists frayed and split, and the priest carefully looped it away. She rubbed some feeling into her hands.

There was the sound of baying in the east.

The priest continued methodically cutting what he could. He didn't move to her feet yet, but he severed the ropes that went over her torso.

'Hurry, Father,' she whispered. 'Hurry.'

A familiar noise was coming through the grey forest: the sound of low branches being pushed aside; of twigs snapping, of howls and roars from unearthly jaws.

Mouth set in a line, the priest finally started working on her legs, his short, sharp knife gleaming in the sunset as it sliced at the rope. Threads frayed loose with each motion. There was a shout from the chapel, the noise of someone who had seen what he was doing; but the people of Hod were too afraid of the things of the night, and no one came running out.

The crashing stopped, and a furious, delighted howl ripped the silent air apart. At the same time a fireball came blazing from the sky, closer than she'd ever seen, and filled the sky with light.

With a final sigh of blade on cord, the rope popped apart; and at that moment the things were upon them.

'Back!' shouted the priest, holding up the symbol of his gods, the twin interlocked rings of metal. 'Back! This girl is under my protection, and the protection of the Twin Brothers! You cannot have her, no matter what Hope Fletcher says!'

Verity rolled over, her legs still too numb to walk; and she pulled herself to a sitting position.

Around her, towering over the priest, were the creatures. Their cruel claws dug into the earth; their muzzles slavered, and they shrieked and roared.

There was a sucking noise to her left, and grey tentacles erupted from the ground. The priest whirled towards it, icon aloft; the tentacles wound around themselves, and a white disk of fabric appeared from nowhere; and suddenly she was looking up at the thing that had called itself Gull.

Up close, it stank. It smelt of stale waste, of decay, of things abandoned and forgotten. When it smiled, it was clear that it was no man, just the facsimile of one; there were two layers of teeth in its wide mouth, and it had no eyes or nose or ears, just holes where such things should be.

It put its head back and laughed.

'So much wealth we are given! So much!' it shouted. It looked up to the things. 'Look, friends! The village has chosen! We can feed.'

Verity closed her eyes, and hoped that her death would be quick.

The things screamed, but the blow didn't come.

'What are you doing?' shouted the priest, a ragged horror in his voice.

Verity opened her eyes; and what she saw made her gasp. The things were loping towards the chapel, shrieking with savage happiness. The first one was already there; it plunged a leg through the wooden roof, laughing nastily.

Gull was walking with them, far slower because of its unnatural human form. It looked back at Verity and priest, and smiled. Its teeth gleamed red in the setting sun.

'I said to leave the payment here; and that we would feed. I didn't say that we would feed on the payment. The little sin of these people for coming here makes for some sweetness, Hope in particular; but performing this, the greatest transgression of all, forsaking their gods and destroying the life of another... Well, it makes their flesh most succulent. Did you hear that, mortals hiding in that wooden shed you call a chapel? You have only yourselves to blame for all of this! We'll speak again, Father, Verity. For now, goodbye.'

It collapsed into the ground, and burrowed away, leaving a ridge of earth where it travelled.

Verity's legs were still too numb to walk, never mind run, but she could crawl; she started pulling herself hand over hand through the mud, towards the closest shelter she could see, a mostly intact hut, heart racing, mind blank with fear. She had no idea where the priest was, what was going on. She saw nothing but shadows in the torchlight. With no other ideas, she grabbed the tiny knife from the dirt.

Behind her, there was screams, begging, the noise of limbs being torn from sockets, bones being crushed; and above it all the relentless, mocking laughter of Gull.