The watching adults and children pulled back, and Mayor Ruprecht swallowed.
“No!” he protested. “I mean, no, not at all, take him!”
Alpha nodded. “Get these last wagons sorted,” she said. “We’ll take care of the Ants. Keep us informed if you hear more about these other Constructs.”
She turned and stalked down the hill, ignoring Coll. Dolph followed her. Coll looked at the boy, who seemed only vaguely aware what was happening. “You come with us, OK?”
The boy said nothing, but when Coll started walking, he followed. Behind them, the children watched, glowering, but no one said anything.
No one was smiling any more.
Alpha waited until they were all the way back at Wolf before turning on Coll.
“What in the name of the moon did you think you were doing?” she snapped. Her eyes flashed with fury.
Coll stepped back. “They were attacking him!” he said hotly. “I had to do something!” Beside him, the little boy shrank under Alpha’s anger.
“Why?” she demanded. “What do we care what they do with some pig brat? You think we’ve got space to hold it? Food to feed it?”
“Then why didn’t you say so back there?”
Dolph rolled his eyes. Alpha stared at Coll. “We are Wolf,” she said at last in an icy voice. “When we are on the ground, when we go into these places, we are one. We speak as one. If you admit weakness, your allies will turn on you, your enemies will strike. We don’t show indecision, we don’t reveal personal feelings, and we don’t argue in front of the Worms!”
Coll swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “He’s just a child, Alpha.”
She scowled. “Well, that child is your problem now.”
“What, me?” he asked, confused.
“Yes, you! You brought it here, so now you look after it. Feed it, clothe it…” She shook her head. “And clean up after its mess.”
Alpha grabbed a cable and tugged, and it lifted her up. Behind her, Dolph chuckled and tugged on another cable.
“Remember to feed it every day,” he called as he disappeared up the side.
Coll looked down at the boy.
“Well,” he said weakly, “I suppose you’d better come with me.”
The boy at least seemed to remember how to get on board. He held on to a cable and let it pull him up, and Coll followed him. As they came over the deck rail, some of the crew turned and stared.
“This way,” muttered Coll. The boy followed slowly, gazing at everything – the metal beams, the entranceway, the Wolf crew. He was blinking a lot and clutching tight to a little leather bag.
“They said you were on Boar,” said Coll. The boy gave a vague nod. “You remember it?” He shrugged. Coll realised he hadn’t heard him say a single word.
“What’s your name?”
At first he didn’t answer. Then he muttered, “F-Farrow.” His voice creaked as if rusty.
“Farrow?” Coll shook his head. “What’s that, a pig name? Come on, through here. Hurry up. That’s not a proper name. You need something Wolf. Like … I don’t know. Fillan. That means ‘little wolf’. You’re Fillan now, OK?”
The boy looked at him. “OK,” he whispered.
“This way,” said Coll. “Watch the step. Watch the step—”
The boy tumbled forward and landed hard on the metal floor with an “Oof!”
Coll cursed. “I told you to watch!” he snapped. “You all right?”
The boy sat up. One hand was scraped where he’d tried to stop himself from falling. He hadn’t let go of the bag. His face was red. He nodded.
“Come on,” said Coll, and hoisted him to his feet. “You’re OK.”
“OK,” the boy echoed. Then he turned in the direction of the galley and the smell of food.
“You hungry?” asked Coll.
The boy said nothing, but his face looked pinched and his stomach suddenly gave a huge growl.
Coll nodded. “Food first.”
It was quiet, between shifts. Coll brought him some stew. He thought the boy would have disgusting manners, like everyone knew Boars had, but he ate quickly and neatly, keeping one hand curled tight round his bowl and scraping it clean. Coll brought him another bowl, and another, and at last the boy slowed.
“You done?” asked Coll.
