‘There have been bonfires, beacons, lit throughout the Banished Lands. We know it is some kind of signal amongst the Kadoshim. Which is another reason for my presence. It is a hint that the Kadoshim are here, this far north, and if they are, the Order must know.’

‘They are,’ Drem said. ‘The Kadoshim. I saw them. Only half a day’s ride from here.’ He gestured vaguely north-east.

‘They?’ Cullen asked. ‘More than one?’

‘Aye.’ Drem nodded.

The three newcomers shared a look.

‘How many?’ Sig asked Drem.

Drem closed his eyes, remembering those moments when he’d stood on the palisade and stared out over Starstone Lake.

‘I saw three, at least,’ he said at last. ‘It was night, there could have been more.’

He saw the questions forming on all their lips and held a hand up. ‘But before that, I must tell you this. My da found a lump of the Starstone, and he fashioned a sword from it.’

‘What?’ Sig, Keld and Cullen said in unison. Rab squawked above them.

‘Why?’ Sig said. ‘The man I knew would not have done something so rash, not without good reason.’

‘He wanted to end it all. The war between Kadoshim and Ben-Elim, wanted them gone from the Banished Lands.’

‘And how was he going to accomplish that with one sword?’ Cullen said. ‘Even if it was a magic one.’

‘He planned to cut Asroth’s head from his shoulders.’

A silence, Sig and Keld sharing a long glance.

Cullen whistled.

‘Well, that would probably do it,’ Keld said.

‘And who has this sword, now?’ Sig asked.

‘The Kadoshim must. My da’s killer took it from him.’

Sig looked at him pointedly.

‘Tell us everything you know.’

So Drem did, beginning with the clues he’d discovered that pointed to another bear and person being his da’s killers, and ending with the nightmare scenes he’d stumbled upon at the mine. The boats returning, Kadoshim in the air. The desperate, exhausted run through the forest.

‘And then you all arrived, saved me,’ Drem said with a shrug.

‘To be fair, you did a large part of that job for us,’ Keld said. ‘We’ve counted the dead. You must have put fifteen of them down before we got here.’

‘Sixteen,’ Cullen said.

‘Olin would have been proud of you,’ Keld said.

‘The question,’ Sig rumbled, ‘is what are they doing at that mine, and why?’

‘They’re making monsters,’ Drem said. ‘Feral beast-men, strong, fast, and they want to rip your throat out with their claws and teeth!’

‘That’s not the worst trait to have,’ Keld said. ‘Though I’d prefer it if it stayed with my hounds.’

‘But it sounds as if they’re experimenting,’ Cullen said, brows bunching. ‘That whatever they’re trying to create, they haven’t perfected it, yet.’

Aye. The things I saw were as much crippled as they were killing machines.