Her musings were abruptly cut short when the black bangle on her arm suddenly sent a painful shock through the limb, the sensation greater than anything she’d experienced when it had warned her about the asghoul. At the same time, Lann reined his horse to a halt, turning in the saddle to look across at her, the look of fear on his face perfectly matching her own.

‘Something’s happened,’ he said, his head cocked to one side as if he were listening to something she couldn’t hear. ‘It’s Fleya.’ He gave her one last look before kicking his heels into the horse’s flanks and urging it on at a full gallop.

Fleya slowly emerged from the blackness. Her head throbbed and she did her best to ignore the terrible pain behind her eyes. Her hands were tied behind her, the leather cords pulled wickedly tight so they bit into the flesh of her wrists. Flexing her fingers to try and get some blood flowing into them caused her to gasp in pain. Her feet were tied in a similar fashion.

She was still outside, but she was no longer up on the ridge. The wetness of the ground, coupled with the briny smell of seawater, suggested she must be down on the headland. The cold had soaked into her clothing and she let out an involuntary shiver.

‘Good, you’re awake,’ she heard somebody behind her say.

More pain flared as she turned her head in the direction of the voice.

Kelewulf Rivengeld was hardly recognisable as the young man she’d met in Stromgard a few years earlier. During that first encounter she’d been struck by how different he was from his father or uncle, both of whom were thick-set Volken men. But at least he’d appeared healthy enough. Now he looked … withered – like a once healthy plant that had endured a long drought and was hollowed out from within.

He was standing in a circle that had been gouged into the earth and filled with small stones and pebbles. She herself had used similar circles on many occasions.

‘The Water Elemental was rather impressive. I should like to know how you managed it. Sadly for you, it was also a complete waste of time and effort.’ He smiled down at her. ‘It has left you exhausted. What a shame.’

‘Who’s talking to me right now?’ she asked softly. ‘Is it the young man I met once, full of potential and promise? Or the dark thing that is forcing him to do its bidding?’ She waited for a response, continuing when none came, ‘For that is what has happened here – you know that, Kelewulf, don’t you? Regardless of what agreement you thought you had with Yirgan, he is slowly but surely possessing you. You are his dupe. A victim. Have you seen yourself lately? The way you look? Do you think the lich cares about you?’