Just then, a naked, blood-covered man emerged from the house and caught sight of the boy and his pony. What followed was the stuff of horror. The man let out a strangled cry and dropped down on to all fours, his entire body taut and rigid as if a terrible pain coursed through him. And right there, before Lann’s eyes, the man transformed into a hellish wolf. The thing was far bigger than any wolf he’d ever seen before, and when it lifted its head, it stared back at him through black, hate-filled eyes. The creature had no place in this world. It was a thing of fable, from the days when the gods still walked across this world. The foul chimera opened its gore-covered jaws and let out a howl of rage. With that, it launched itself off the front porch towards Lann, taking great, leaping bounds on powerful legs and halving the distance separating them within a few heartbeats. For a moment, both the boy and his mount froze, terror turning their bodies to stone. Then Lann pulled the pony’s head around and set his heels into the beast’s flanks, loudly urging it forward.

The pony was hardy and well suited to the rocky terrain at the bottom of the Maiden’s Fingers. Spurred on by its own fear and that of its rider, it quickly opened up a gap again between them and the hellish wyre-creature. Even so, Lann knew they couldn’t hope to keep their pursuer at bay for long. The pony was too tired to keep up her pace for much longer and the creature would then be upon them.

The witch’s words came to him then: ‘Trust your instincts on where to find safety.’

An idea occurred to him, a crazy idea of where they could hide. Desperately he steered his mount in the direction of the Dark Wood at the western edge of his father’s land.

Leaning forward over the animal’s neck, Lann urged it to greater efforts. It was then that he caught a flash of something black at the edge of his vision. Allowing himself a brief sideways glance, he saw a crow perfectly matching his speed. The bird let out a caw and flew out ahead, arrowing in the direction of the forest as if leading the way for him.

The woods were as old as time itself. It was said a great battle had been fought there and each tree represented a fallen warrior. It was also said that a curse hung over the place. Even during the brightest days light struggled to make it through the thick overhead canopy to the forest floor, and now, as he approached it in the gloom of the evening, the place appeared to Lann as a sea of blackness. The idea of entering that inky nothingness filled him with dread.