The boy in the scruffy clothes was still talking to Jake.

“Now look here, mister—well, you’re not really a ‘mister’, are you? You’re only a boy really. Now look here, mister boy, I don’t know how you got yourself down there and all tangled up in the river weeds, but I rescued you, you see, and fair’s fair: I think I deserve some kind of reward. It’s the least you could do, don’t you think, given the circumstances? So? Well…?”

The boy held out his hand expectantly.

“What?” said Jake. “Oh, sorry, I wasn’t really listening…” He was still trying to take in his new surroundings.

“I said: I deserve some kind of reward for rescuing you, don’t you think? You look like a wealthy sort of person,” said the boy, eying up Jake’s school uniform blazer and shirt, “why not help someone out for a good deed?”

“Oh, right,” said Jake. “Um, ok then, let’s see what I’ve got…”

He fished around in his wet pockets for something he could give the boy.

“Sorry, I spent all my cash on sweets before the trip. All I’ve got on me is my phone.”

“Your what? Give it here, let me see.”

Jake took out his phone. He had just noticed that the boy was wearing a short knife, which must have been what he used to cut the weeds. He wondered about dialing 999. But his phone, which was soaking wet, appeared to have no reception here.

“What is that?” said the boy as he snatched his phone off him.

“Don’t you know what a phone is?” said Jake. Even though he had just almost died and was totally lost in a strange, unknown land, his rebellious instinct kicked in and he started showing off to the boy. “It’s a device for making calls and sending texts to people. You can also get social media on it and play games.” That was mostly what he used his phone for, anyway. He touched some buttons for the boy to show him. “Look, here’s my high-score on Tetris.” He was really showing off now, but he didn’t want to get the boy too interested in his phone. After all, it was his only lifeline to connect him back to the outside world.

The boy inspected the phone, held up to the light, and fiddled with some buttons, as if he really had never seen one before. Then he said, “Useless,” and threw it over his shoulder, back into the river.

“Hey!” said Jake. He very nearly dived in to get it back, but he stopped himself, remembering the ordeal that he had only just survived. “What did you do that for?”

“It’s just a stupid shiny little brick,” said the boy. “No-one would give me any money for it. That, and I wanted to see if you jumped in after it. You didn’t, so it can’t be that valuable, can it?”

“I didn’t jump in after it because I didn’t want to nearly drown again, not because it’s not valuable!”

“Oh, well, that’s your fault then. It’s probably sunk to the bottom and gotten lost by now, anyway.”

“You idiot!” said Jake, his anger getting the better of both his fear and his politeness.

“Sorry mate. So, you don’t have any money you’re willing to give me for rescuing you, then?”

“No! I don’t know where I am and I don’t have any money!”

Before Jake knew what was happening, the boy was knocking him over and pinning him to the ground. He felt the cold metal of the knife being held to his throat.

“Are you sure about that?” said the boy.

Jake tried to stop his adam’s apple from wobbling. His eyes swivelled around at the people passing by on the roads. No one seemed to notice or care what was happening to him. They seemed to be ignoring them as a couple street urchins having a scuffle.

“I’m telling you,” said Jake, “I really don’t have any money, I swear!”

“We’ll see about that,” said the boy. He rifled through Jake’s pockets, keeping him pinned to ground. When he didn’t find anything, his face dropped.

“You really don’t have any money,” he said. “Well…you seem to be in a bit of a mess, don’t you?”

Jake stood up as the boy let him, then looked down at his wet feet. He was loathe to admit it, but he was in a bit of a mess.

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” said the boy, and walked off.

Jake was too relieved to care or to protest. He took a while to get his bearings and work out what the best thing was to do next. Once he had decided, he tried approaching one of the weird passers-by dressed in the odd medieval clothes and asking them where he was.

“Excuse me,” he said to a slightly younger looking man, “but I’m lost and I don’t know where I am. Do you think you could help me find a way to call my Mum?”

The man just ignored him and carried on walking by. He didn’t even stop to listen or dignify him with a response. Jake tried two more men, and three women, and got nowhere. Everyone treated him the same way. They didn’t so much as glance at him.

“You really don’t know where you are, do you?”

Jake jumped. The boy who had pulled him out of the river earlier was standing at his side. Apparently he had been watching him try to talk to the strangers and get nowhere.

“Tell you what,” said the boy, appearing to make some kind of decision, “why don’t you come with me? I want to introduce you to some friends of mine.”

Jake thought about his options. As far as he could see, he didn’t have any. This boy had just tried to mug him, but he decided he might as well go with him while he thought about what he should do next, seeing as the people in this backward place were so unfriendly and unhelpful.

“Alright then...” he said. “But no more trying to take money that I don’t have off me. OK?”

“Good! Follow me!” said the boy.

The boy led him over some of the network of bridges that were built over the rivers and into a maze of streets. After some time, he turned into an especially run-down looking alleyway, walked a way down it, and lifted a large, red, hanging cloth that was hung up on one side of it.

“After you,” he said.

Jake looked at the boy, and then took a cautious step under the cloth.

Beyond it, in a dark, secluded, space, a ring of about ten more boys looked up at him, glowering.

All of them had knives.

“Who’s this?” said one of the ten or so boys, reaching for his knife.

“A trespasser, that’s who!” said another of them.

“What you doing bringing outsiders in here, To’phoro?” said another.

“Wait a m—” said the boy who had brought Jake here, apparently called To’phoro. But before he could finish his sentence, one of the boys had jumped at Jake and lunged at him with his knife.

With reflexes he had never had to use before, Jake jumped out of the way of the knife. Before his attacker had a chance to respond, he kicked him hard in the knee, so hard that it made the boy cry out in pain and drop the weapon. Without giving him a chance to recover it, Jake saw his opportunity and rushed forwards, tackling the boy in the chest. They ended up on the ground, wrestling. The other boys crowded around them, chanting “Fight, fight, fight!” They were enjoying this, watching to see who would win the wrestling match. But even if Jake won, it wouldn’t be much use to him--all the other boys still had their knives.

“WAIT!” somebody yelled.

Everyone paused and all eyes turned on To’phoro, who had been the one that yelled. Jake lay frozen still, in his opponent’s headlock.

“That’s better,” said To’phoro. “I was trying to tell you: it’s alright. We can let this guy in. He’s safe. Get off him, Yathom.”

Reluctantly, Jake’s opponent, ‘Yathom’, released him from his grip. “Well, alright…” he said. “But are you sure? How do you know?”

“He’s not even from here,” said To’phoro. “He’s lost, says he’s never even been to Dahma before. I pulled him out of the Nahar and he was completely clueless. I think he might have nearly drowned and lost his memory or something.”

Jake, of course, hadn’t lost his memory at all and could remember exactly what had been happening before he had fallen in the river, but he decided to play along anyway.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “I can’t remember what happened to me before I ended up in the river. I’m just looking for a place to stay while I sort myself out.”

“I dunno…” said Yathom, still not convinced, and wanting to justify his hasty attack. “He could be a spy from the militia.”

“Tell you what,” said To’phoro, “I know how to prove to you all he isn’t a spy.”

“How?” said Yathom and the other boys.

“We’ll make him do an initiation.”

“An initiation?” said Jake. “What’s that?”

“Well,” said To’phoro, “if you’re going to stay with us, you’re going to have to run with us too. I mean, like, you’re going to have to become one of us—you’re going to have to show that you can join in with our work.”

“And what’s your ‘work’, then?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” said To’phoro. “We’re thieves!”