A bear! Christ in Heaven! Nor was this just any bear. It was his wounder, coming at him with her own wounds gouting, her breath foul and hot on his face.

Instinctively, he did as he would have done in the wild: he dropped to his knees, lowered his head and presented as small a target as possible. The boards beneath him reverberated with the weight and fury of the animal; his scars were suddenly burning in homage to their maker. It was all he could do not to cry out, even though he knew this was just some idiot dream; all he could do not to beg it to stop and let him alone. But he kept his silence, his palms against the boards, and waited. After a time, the reverberations ceased. Still he didn't move, but counted to ten, and only then dared to move his head an inch or two. There was no sign of the bear. But across the room, leaning against the window as nonchalantly as ever, was Lord Fox.

'There are probably a plethora of lessons here,' the creature said, 'but two in particular come to mind.' Will gingerly got to his feet while the fox shared his wisdom. 'That when you're dealing with animal spirits and that's what you've got on your hands, Willy, whether you like it or not -it's best to remember that we're all one big happy family, and if I'm here then I've probably got company. That's the first lesson.'

'And ... what's the second?'

'Show me some respectl' the fox barked. Then, suddenly all reason: 'You came in here saying you want to get it over with as quickly as possible. That's insulting, Willy.'

'Don't call me Willy.'

'Ask me politely.'

'Oh for fuck's sake. Please don't call me Willy.'

'Better.'

'I need something to drink. My throat's completely dry.'

'Go get yourself something,' the fox said, 'I'll come with you.'

Will went into the kitchen, and the fox padded after him, instructing him not to turn on the light. 'I much prefer the murk,' the animal said. 'It keeps my senses sharp.'

Will opened the fridge and got out a carton of milk. 'You want something?'

'I'm not thirsty,' the fox said. 'But thank you.'

'Something to eat?'

'You know what I like to eat,' the fox replied, and the image of Thomas Simeon lying dead in the grass entered Will's head with sickening clarity.

'Jesus,' Will said, letting the fridge door slam closed.

'Come on,' the fox said, 'where's your sense of humour?' He stepped out of the deep shadows into a wash of grey light from the window. He looked, Will thought, more vicious than he had last time they'd met. 'You know, I think you should ask yourself,' he said, 'in all seriousness, if perhaps you're not coming apart at the seams. And if you are, what the consequences are going to be for those around you. Particularly your new lover-boy. I mean, he's not the most stable of characters, is he?'

'Are you talking about Drew?'

'Right. Drew. For some reason, I was thinking his name was Brad. I think in all fairness you should let him go, or you'll end up dragging him down with you. He'll go nuts on you, or try to slit his wrists, one of the two. And you'll be responsible. You don't want that on your plate. Not with the rest of the shit you've got to deal with.''Are you going to be more specific?'

'It's not his war, Will. It's yours and yours alone. You signed on for it the day you let Steep take you up the hill.'

Will set down the carton of milk and put his head in his hands. 'I wish I knew what the hell you wanted,' he said.

'In the long view,' the fox said, 'I want what every animal wants in its heart - except maybe for the dogs - I want your species gone. To the stars, if you can get there. To rot and ruin, more likely. We don't care. We just want you out of our fur.'

'And then what?'

'Then nothing,' the fox replied with a shrug. His voice went to a wistful murmur. 'The planet keeps going round, and when it's bright it's day and when it's not it's night, and there's no end to the simple bliss of things.''The simple bliss of things,' Will said.

'It's a pretty phrase, isn't it? I think I got it from Steep.'

'You'd miss all of that, if we were gone-'

'Words, you mean? I might, for a day or two. But it'd pass. In a week I'd have forgotten what good conversation was and I'd be a happy heart again. The way I was when Steep first clapped eyes on me.''I know I'm just dreaming this, but while you're here ... what do you know about Steep?'

'Nothing you don't,' the fox said. 'There's a good part of him in you, after all. You take a long look at yourself, one of these days.' The fox approached the table now, lowering his voice to an insinuating whisper. 'Do you really think you'd have wasted most of your natural span taking pictures of tormented wildlife if he hadn't put that knife in your hands? He shaped you, Will. He sowed the hopes and the disappointments, he sowed the guilt, and the yearning.'

'And he sowed you at the same time?'

'For better or worse. You see, I'm nothing important. I'm just the innocent fox who ate Thomas Simeon's private parts. Steep saw me trotting away and he decided I was a villain. Which was very unfair of him, by the way. I was just doing what any fox with an empty belly would do, seeing a free meal. I didn't know I was eating anybody important.'

'Was Simeon important?'

'Well, obviously he was to Steep. I mean Jacob really took this dickeating business to heart. He came after me, like he was going to tear off my head. So I ran, I ran so far and so fast-' This wasn't Will's memory of the event, as he'd witnessed it through Steep's eyes, but Lord Fox was on a roll, and Will didn't dare interrupt. 'And he kept coming after me. There was no escaping him. I was in his memory, you see? In his mind's eye. And let me tell you, he'd got a mind like a steel trap. Once he had me there was no tricking my way out. Even death couldn't spring me from his head.' A raw sigh escaped the animal. 'Let me tell you,' he said, 'it's not like being in your head. I mean, you've got a messed-up psyche, no doubt about it, but it's nothing compared with his. Nothing.'

Will knew bait when it was being trailed. But he couldn't help himself; he bit. 'Tell me,' he said.

'What's he like? Well ... if my head's a hole in the ground and yours is a shack - no offence intended - then his is a fucking cathedral. I mean, it's all spires and choirs and flying buttresses. Incredible.'

'So much for the simple bliss of things.'

'You're quick, aren't you?' the fox said appreciatively. 'Soon as you see a little weakness in a fellow's argument, you're in.'

'So he's got a mind like a cathedral?'

'That makes it sound too sublime. It isn't. It's decaying, year by year, day by day. It's getting darker and colder in there, and Steep doesn't know how to stay warm, except by killing things, and that doesn't work as well as it used to.'

Will's fingers remembered the velvet of the moth's wings, and the heat of the fire that would soon consume them. Though he didn't speak the thought, the fox heard it anyway. 'You've had experience of his methodologies, of course. I was forgetting that. You've seen his madness at first hand. That should arm you against him, at least a little.'

'And what happens if he dies?'

'I escape his head,' the fox said. 'And I'm free.'

'Is that why you're haunting me?'

'I'm not haunting you. Haunting's for ghosts and I'm not a ghost. I'm a ... what am I? I'm a memory Steep made into a little myth. The Animal That Devoured Men. That's who I am. I wasn't really interesting as a common or garden fox. So he gave me a voice. Stood me on my hind legs. Called me Lord Fox. He made me just as he made you.' The admission was bitter. 'We're both his children.'

'And if he lets you go?'

'I told you: I'm away free.'

'But in the real world you've been dead for centuries.'