A branch slapped into Drem’s face, sharp fingers raking his cheek. The trees were growing thicker about them, branches lower, men ducking in their saddles. They’d made the decision to stay mounted for as long as possible, just to use every moment of extra speed to close the gap between them and their quarry, but the time to dismount and leave the horses behind was rapidly approaching.

The line of hunters grew fractured, the thickening trees and dense scrub a barrier that sent horses searching for easier paths. A horn blast, and then they were dismounting, Ulf choosing a score of his followers to stay with the mounts, the rest of them reforming as best they could and marching on.

Hounds bayed somewhere ahead of Drem, a fresh excitement in their barking. His da was beside him, the next hunter a vague shadow slipping in and out of view.

‘Do you think they’ve found it?’ Drem asked his da, a hand reaching for his sword.

Should have brought a spear.

His throat still hurt, inside and outside, his cloak rubbing against the rope-burn, his voice grating raw when he spoke.

‘No,’ Olin said. ‘They’d be making a different sound entirely if they had. More like dying.’ He looked at Drem’s face, saw the worry in his eyes. ‘They might be getting closer, though, the scent stronger.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ Drem muttered.

Snow was falling thick about them, swirling with gusts and eddies into banks at their feet.

If it’s this thick inside this wood, what is it like beyond it? We’ll be needing to dig through snowbanks to get in our front door.

A hand closed around his wrist.

‘Drem,’ his da said, leaning close, ‘we should leave.’

‘What!’

I can’t. Fritha.

Olin saw Drem’s expression, but continued anyway.

‘We should go, now. While we have a chance.’

‘Da, how can you say this?’

‘Drem, you’re usually the practical one. Think. I’ve told you what I plan to do.’ He put a hand to the sword that was hanging through a leather thong at his hip, the blade wrapped in leather and sheepskin.

Asroth. Drassil. With us being attacked, Fritha taken, I’d almost forgotten my da plans on slaying a demon-lord.

‘Hildith and Ulf have told us we are involved in this investigation into Calder’s death. Do you think we’ll just be allowed to leave? And now there’s blood feud against us. A whole town of miners and trappers out for our blood. I’ve told you: something is wrong here, and we need to be away, before it’s too late. This is the perfect opportunity, while the townsfolk, and the men who wish us dead, are stumbling snow-blind amongst these woods. We could just turn around and go back, and no one would know for a good while. We could get a day’s head start. We should go.’