He’d said that last word quickly, knowing his da did not like to hear it uttered.

Kadoshim. Dread demons of Asroth who had escaped their bonds in the Otherworld and entered Drem’s world to become creatures of flesh and blood, monsters come to destroy all that lived in these Banished Lands. His da hated them, hated the very sound of their name.

Because they killed my mam.

He didn’t like to upset his da, could hear his breathing was sharper, his frame tense, just from those few words, but if he could get him to talk of the Kadoshim, maybe he would then be able to talk of Drem’s mam, too . . .

‘Aye,’ Olin growled, spitting on the floor beside him. ‘The Ben-Elim will be here one day. But later rather than sooner, I hope. May they linger in Drassil another hundred years. And every day until then shall be better for their absence. I’ve searched many a year for a place where we can live free.’ He drew in a breath, seemed about to say something more, but only silence followed.

Drem breathed deep, the scent of pine trees and winter heavy in the air.

‘Have you seen Drassil?’ he asked, a new tactic.

Olin gave him a sidelong look.

‘I have, as you well know.’

Drem opened his mouth to ask another question.

‘Enough,’ his da snapped as he stood quickly. ‘A long day on the morrow, I’m for my bed.’ He stamped his feet, stood there hesitantly for a moment, looking down at Drem. Then he walked away and lay close to the fire. Drem heard the rustle of furs and popping of a cork as a skin of mead was unstoppered.

Drem sat and stared into the darkness, listening to the sounds of the night.

Drem woke to a great crashing. Staggering to his feet, furs falling away, wet with dawn’s dew, he looked to his da, who was on his feet, a short-handled axe in one hand, knife in the other. The stillness of dawn was shattered by a roaring that echoed through the foothills, startling birds from branches.

‘The pit,’ Olin said, and then he was off and running. Drem stooped and swept up his spear, his long legs carrying him after his da, who was already disappearing amongst the pine trees that cloaked the hillslope.

The path curved close to the river, which frothed and foamed with icy water fresh from the mountains. Drem closed in on his da as the ground began to level, and then saw him skid to a halt, twenty paces ahead.

Drem caught up, breathing heavily, staring in disbelief at the sight that had caused Olin to stop.