Verity reached the clearing just before noon.

It was right on the edge of the island; at the far side of it, cliffs fell away into the sea, and the cold wind hissed up, edged and uncaring. Around the rest of it, the grey trees formed a sharp circle, three hundred yards wide. At the centre of it was a puncture in the ground, a wound in the living rock. There were no plants or undergrowth within the clearing, although clusters of mushrooms sprouted everywhere, long white roots snaking from them, making a pale tangle on the black ground. Scattered across the clearing were rocks, smashed into fragments from their fall from the sky, rich seams of gold exposed. Huge black flies, with glittering wings and jagged legs, crawled over everything; they leapt up and flew away from Verity as soon as she stepped out of the forest. Mushrooms popped when she trod on them, showering her with tiny spores. Everything stank of decay, despite the ocean wind, and Verity drew her shawl up over her mouth to block the stench.

There was a familiar bubbling whisper, and slimy cords burst from the ground. Gull emerged at the edge of the pit: white mask, grey skin, and all. This time, though, he was shaped as a king, his flesh forming a wet, ashen crown. He laughed, showing his two rows of sharp teeth.

'Verity! Father Hooper! Good people of Hod! It's so nice of you to come and see us for a change! Hope, welcome back! I trust everything has been to your satisfaction? You know, all you had to do was persuade your husband of our price, and that would have been it. You never even heard me out that time I came visiting.'

Behind him a rock crashed into the sea. It showered them all with spray.

Father Hooper closed his eyes. Fortified, he held up his icon, and strode into the clearing, towards the pit and demon.

'Back, creature! Back to the pit you came from.'

'No, Father, I don't think so,' said Gull. He waved his hand, and the white mushroom roots writhed from the ground and snagged the priest's feet, tripping him so that he fell; more curled up around his hands.

'This is as much my realm as it is yours. Your toddler gods aren't permitted here. Either be polite, or be silent,' said Gull.

The roots ran up Father Hooper's arms, stark against his black priest's robes. Verity ran over to him, and pulled at them; for every one that fell away, three more snaked around him, blindly probing upwards.

'Help me!' she shouted; and some of the villages ran too, Patience the first amongst them. Together, they tore the priest from the ground, and dragged him, back into the forest. As soon as he crossed the threshold, the little threads fell away.

'Oh,' gasped the priest.

The interlocking pair of iron circles, the symbol of the Twin God Brothers, remained on the ground in the clearing, left where it had fallen.

Father Hooper lurched for it. 'I must...' but Verity and Patience held him back, and he slumped down, defeated.

'I suppose that will have to do, Father,' remarked Gull. 'Verity, you're the grown-up here. I think it's time the adults had a conversation, don't you? Come. I won't harm you. You have my word.' He strolled through the clearing, towards them. The flies buzzed up and settled on him in their hundreds, forming a shifting robe of black.

'I know what your word is worth, demon,' said Hope.

'And Hope, we both know what your word is worth,' replied Gull, smiling inhumanly, showing all his teeth. 'Two of a kind, aren't we?'

'What do you want, Gull?' asked Verity. 'You left us alone for a long time. Why won't you now?'

'I was promised a price, Verity. Did Hope tell you her story? About how I came one night, and took her husband? I imagine she only told you that little tale after she failed to throw you to my hungry friends. Yes, I thought so. And did she tell you what the price was?'

Tears glittered in Hope's eyes.

'No, I didn't think so. I have someone to meet you, Hope,' continued Gull. 'Come on, Alderman Giles Fletcher.'

Out from the hole in the ground climbed a figure. He was naked, and completely chalk white, save for his veins which were stark, midnight black, and pulsed horribly under his skin. He looked like he was carved from wet marble. His face was expressionless, and there were no pupils in his eyes.

He walked towards them; and wherever his feet landed, the ground smoked, as if the earth recoiled from this abomination.

'And now, the truth,' said Gull, and then licked his teeth with a long, grey tongue. 'Alderman Fletcher, what did you promise to me, when you first met me, here?'

Fletcher's voice was little more than a whisper, and whatever fell from his lips was lost to the sea wind.

'I'm sorry,' said Gull. 'I don't think they could hear that. I certainly couldn't. Speak up, Alderman.'

'I promised Hope to Gull,' said Fletcher. 'I damned my wife.'

Hope sobbed, and fell to her knees.

'You did, didn't you?' continued Gull. 'Brave Alderman Giles Fletcher agreed that his people would take the shiny stones from this island, and in return, his wife would walk into this hole. And she would join me.'

'So, Hope never promised you anything?' asked Verity.'How can you say that she broke her word?'

'She lied to you enough, didn't she?' replied Gull. 'I have no idea what she said, but I can smell the shame from her. And I didn't lie to here, or to you: there's no death for her here. Neither is there damnation, despite what the Alderman thought. I was human enough, once, you know. And Hope can walk in, if she wished; and she would become like me, transcendent from the flesh of mortals. And then the contract is sealed, and the debt is paid.'

Father Hooper staggered to his feet. 'You lie,' he said. 'You want us to damn each other by sacrificing her to you. This is another one of your vile tricks.'

'Please be quiet, Father Hooper. Mummy and Daddy are talking. Verity, you know the whole truth now. You understand all the decisions that were taken to get us here. These people trust you; they will do what you tell them to do. You can deliver her to me. And while you consider, remember this: you might be able to use your tricks to live for another few weeks, but there's no ships coming. Not ever. Not while the weather is like this.'

A rock smashed into the ground, just beyond the clearing, bringing down trees in a shower of wood chips and leaves. A bough fell into the clearing itself: it immediately withered, collapsing into rot.

The villagers were staring at her, naked fear in their eyes. Gull was right: they did trust her. If she wanted to, she could have them pick up Hope, and throw her into the pit. She could feel it, in the stretched silence, in their glances at the weeping woman.

I can't do it, she thought. I can't condemn Hope to that.

I don't know what to do.

'Take all the time you need,' said Gull. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

Verity's gaze wandered across the clearing. The icon of the god brothers, dropped by the priest, was still lying there. And, strangely, it seemed to be lying in a sunbeam. It was surrounded by a perfect circle of... what?

She frowned. It wasn't surrounded by anything. It had somehow pushed the rot away, and instead, it was lying on rich, brown soil. And at its edge glimmered tiny silver lines. They reminded her of her footprints, the markings left when she had sung the song of sanctity.

An idea came to her.

She set off around the clearing, sunwise, taking one careful step after another. She had a little cache of barley in her pocket, and she pulled it out, and scattered it, making sure it would last for the whole circumference of the clearing. And she sang.

'What are you doing?' asked Gull. 'Is now the time for a little singalong?'

Father Hooper looked up, and he caught Verity's eye. He pulled himself to his feet, and strode into the clearing. The pale threads sprung up again, but this time he forced his way through them, tearing at them, staggering towards his icon.

'The Brothers speed you, Verity,' he gasped. He snatched up the metal symbol, and lurched towards Gull, as the roots twisted and tore at him.

'I believe, devil,' he said. 'The Twin Brothers know. And they'll protect me. Even in death...'

He was panting now, the mushrooms grasping his legs tighter. Gull grinned.

Verity had covered half the circle, and she'd reached the cliff edge. To her left was the sea, crashing at the rocks beneath her. To her right was the blighted clearing. She kept singing, trying not to watch the priest as he struggled, trying not to slip down to the rocks and waves, trying to keep one foot in front of the other.

The white threads were wrapped around the Father Hooper's waist now, immobilising him; but he was singing a hymn, and it was loud and strident, even between the sea and the wind. His icon was gleaming cold and bright in his hand: the iron, a thing of the earth and humanity, was something that devils could not make or understand. Gull laughed at him as the threads climbed his body, but he didn't get any closer.

'Finally going to be a martyr, are we?'

Verity left the cliff edge, and resumed walking the boundary of the forest. She wanted to rush, to sprint away from the horrors to her right. She forced herself to put her feet down calmly, patiently.

The white tendrils curled up to Father Hooper's mouth, and wormed their way in, burrowing into his throat; and then he was no longer singing, but spluttering and retching. He collapsed, and the mushroom roots thrashed around him, whipping the air. The icon fell from his grasp. He didn't scream as he died; he just coughed, as the fungus filled his lungs and stomach, and exploded inside him. And then, he was just another lump on the ground, mushrooms fruiting on his dead form with unnatural speed, the flies swarming around him.

Gull shook his head.

'Such a waste. Now, Verity...'

At that moment, Verity returned to the place where she had started. She turned to go back the other way, walking counter-sunwise.

Gull screamed, the rage splitting his face like a wound.

'So this is what this is... you stupid little girl. I thought you were clever!'

Pale arms appeared from the pit, more chalk bodies pulling themselves into the sun. They were the men that had grabbed Verity, the women who had taunted her, emerging from whatever hell they were imprisoned in. She remembered the sting of the stones on her body, thrown by those hands, the way their ropes had bitten her, how the bruises were still livid on her wrists and ankles. Unlike the expressionless Alderman, these revenants leered.

'You did this to us,' one of them shouted, a man, his face and fists hard. 'You filthy witch. You sold us to Gull.'

'I knew that you were dirt when I saw you,' called a woman. She spat on the ground. 'You're not one of us. Patience, throw her to us, and you can walk away.'

Patience, just shook her head, backed away from the circle.

The horde of the dead advanced, slowly, menacingly. But Verity kept walking, back to the cliff edges. She'd run out of barley now, so she dropped charms; and when she did, the little shapes of grass and mud fell strangely, just like the runes did, landing perfectly on the circle that she was retracing. The horde stopped, snarling, threatening, but unable or unwilling to get closer.

And then came a voice which chilled Verity's blood.

'Verity. It's me. Stop that, and join me.'

Verity couldn't help herself. She flinched, and looked directly into the clearing.

It was Holly Weaver, as dead as the rest of them, smiling at her.

'You know why you were spared? All of the rest of us came here for the gold. We knew that there was something wrong here, deep down inside. Gold doesn't just fall from the sky without a price. But you didn't. You came here for me. You came here because you loved me. And I never returned that love. But here I am. You can have me.'

She looked monstrous, with black blood pulsing under white skin, a leer rather than a smile, but it was unquestionably her voice, and it sounded so sweet, so tender, so full of gentle love...

Blinking back tears, Verity resumed walking.

'Stop!' screamed the thing in the shape of Holly Weaver. 'Stop! You stupid witch!'

Twelve steps left, ten, eight; and then the rocks came from the sky harder and faster than they ever had before, all into the clearing, smashing the white things into pale muscle and dark blood, crushing Gull into a grey pulp, raining onto the mound that had been Father Hooper. Verity sang and sang and sang, her voice hoarse, the tears streaming from her face, and then she made the final step, and closed the circle.

A single boulder, larger than anything Verity had ever seen, streaked down with the fury of a god, right to the centre of the clearing; and the explosion was immense, producing a roar that deafened her and made her fall to her knees, screaming. But the circle of sanctity protected them, and the debris rattled off a perfectly circular invisible wall, which enclosing the clearing, and sheltered Verity and the cowering townspeople.

And then, as the noise subsided, there was no more taunting, or screaming, or mocking laughter, just the clink of rock against rock, as the pile of stone and gold settled. Verity sank to her knees, uncaring of the mud, exhausted.

Patience walked to her, and put her arms around her.

'Are you OK, Verity?'

Verity drew a huge, ragged breath.

'I think so.'

The circle of sanctity wouldn't hold forever, and when it broke, a lot of rock would come crashing down; but as it was, it was nice to sit here, in the silence.

'What did you do?' asked Patience.

'I sung the song of sanctity, the thing that I used to protect our hut. But...' she took another breath, amazed that she was still alive, amazed that it had worked. '...I reversed it. I walked the other way. Instead of putting this clearing within the circle, I put it outside. I made the whole world safe. From the pit.'

Patience's eyes widened.

'So you did all this? And the starfall? Did you do that?'

'No. I didn't. I guess the circle stopped the stars from falling within it; and so that was the only place they could fall. So it was what the earth needed. What she needed to end it all.'

Patience looked up. 'Well, it's stopped now,' she said.

Verity followed her gaze. The grey clouds were fleeing, and they were leaving little patches of blue. The sun was peeking out. It would be a clear, bright autumn afternoon. And, as Patience said, there were no falling stars.

'Come on, Verity. Let's get you back to Hod. I'll help you.'

They stood, both of them shivering. The other villagers joined them.

'Are you coming, Hope?' asked Verity.

Hope stood. She wiped the mud from her knees and the tears from her cheeks. She locked eyes with Verity.

'No,' she said. 'I'm not.'

And then she turned, and walked around the clearing, towards the cliffs, and the rocks, and the uncaring sea. Verity looked away. She'd seem enough death that day.

'Come on, Verity,' repeated Patience.

And so, the remaining survivors of Starfall Isle set off, back to Hod.