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'You have to be flaming joshing,' said Zack.

The ice-mouths smiled, showing jagged teeth.

'This is not going to be easy,' said Gillian.

'If you can't go through, below, or over, go around,' said John. 'Elementary tactics. The Pump has entrances on the High Street and in Totter's Lane.'

'How do you know so much about a pub?' asked Gillian.

John blushed and led us into the public bar, which was dark and abandoned, snow on the tables and carpet.

'So, you two have finally got into the Pump,' said Zack, to me and Gillian. 'Disappointed?'

'I expected more red velvet tassels,' said Gillian. 'And framed pictures of fat naked ladies.'

'Anyone want a drink?' asked Zack. 'Brandy, whisky ... '

'We should get a move-on,' said John.

Zack went round behind the bar, searching for spirits. He found glasses, then reached up, but held back. The row of upsidedown bottles had exploded and frozen into amber and green cascades, jewelled with glass fragments.

'Ah,' he said. 'Problem.'

Zack exhaled, breath frosting.

'Even indoors, it's too cold,' said Gillian.

'The temperature dropped as we went along,' said John. 'Didn't you notice?'

I remembered the ice was thicker nearer Foreman's Yard.

We went through to the saloon bar. Bodies sat at tables, faces frosted.

'Snowmen,' said Malcolm.

The door John had been counting on was locked and chained from the inside. One pane of glass was smashed, showing a wall of snow beyond.

'Seems like we're stymied,' said Zack.

He looked for unexploded bottles, picking them up and shaking to see if any had liquid inside. John made a disgusted face.

'Not to drink, Mars-man,' Zack explained. 'To burn.'

'We can't just give up,' said Gillian. 'Not after getting this close.'

Tired, Gillian and I had sat down at a table. Only when I stopped moving did I realise how my arms and legs ached. I took off my mittens and counted my frozen fingers, trying to wrench feeling into them.

'I'd like to ask Susan something,' said John.

Gillian was surprised. John wasn't his old self again, and never would be.

'Ask away, John,' I said, weary to the bone.

'Why is it so important we get to your Grandfather?'

'I think he can help.'

'Help? Help us?'

'Help everyone.'

John took off his glasses. His eyes were watery. He pinched the top of his nose and put his specs back on.

'Susan, this is an Attack,' he began. 'It's all over the city. Perhaps the country. Hundreds, maybe thousands, have been hurt or killed. You've seen those things, the Cold Knights. Where do they come from? What are they? They're not the Enemy we were expecting. We've been moving too fast, staying ahead of them, not thinking about them. Now, I'd like to ask questions. Susan, what do you know about all this?'

I had no answer. I worried that, pressed further, I'd break down.

'Lay off her, Mars-man,' said Zack. 'It's not her fault. She's just a kid.'

I resented that but didn't say so.

'You don't know Susan,' said John. 'Even before this, she was strange ... '

'Thank you very much,' I snapped. 'Martian!'

'I'm not from Mars. I'm from Northumberland. What about you, Susan? Where are you from?'

Cold went to my head, an icepick through an eye.

'What is all this rot, John?' asked Gillian.

'Ask her.'

'Ask her what?'

'Where she's from?'

Gillian looked at me, wondering what all this was about. 'Outer space,' said Malcolm. 'Susan is a Princess. She's run away from Home.'

Everyone heard him.

Zack cracked a grin. 'Anything you say, pardner.'

John fixed his eyes on me. Gillian looked between us.

'You must have noticed, Gillian,' said John. 'She goes away sometimes, inside her head, to the Twilight Zone. She knows things. The mask slips.'

'You're saying Susan is a Space Princess.'

'No, of course not. Grow up, Gillian.'

John took a seat and sat at our table. He folded his arms.

'I'm saying she's a spy,' he announced. 'This Grandfather no one has ever met or seen is her Control. She's using us to get back to him. Sacrificing people along the way.