Lann could not blame them. He had felt it too: an omen of evil that affected both human and horse at the most basic of levels.

‘We have to hurry,’ Astrid said, climbing down from her saddle and moving towards the bluff. ‘Lann?’

He hardly heard her words due to the clamour of noise that filled his head. The black blade’s usual mutterings had risen to a screeching jumble of warnings and urgings and demands. He staggered as he climbed down from his horse. When he looked at his right hand he saw that the sword was already firmly in his grasp, even though he had no recollection of having drawn the blade from its scabbard.

Nir-akuu. Nir-Akuu. Nir-Akuu! NIR-AKUU! NIR-AKUU!!

‘Lann?’ Astrid took a step in his direction, but halted when he held a hand out. There was a dangerous look in his eye, something she had not seen before.

‘I am your keeper and will do your work,’ Lann said through gritted teeth. He was looking out at a point in the distance beyond her, and Astrid knew he was speaking to the blade. ‘But I cannot do those things if you fill my mind with this noise. Relent, and we will do what must be done … together.’

The sword did as it was bid, and Lann was able to relax ever so slightly as the tumult in his head subsided. The incessant voice of the sword was still there, but Lann could hear his own thoughts now. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he focused on Astrid and gave her a small reassuring smile.

The pair hurried up to the edge of the hill overlooking the headland, but were stopped in their tracks by what they saw below.

‘Kelewulf,’ Astrid said in a small voice, and Lann followed the direction of her gaze.

A thin boy was standing inside a small ring marked out in the ground. A short distance in front of him, bound by her hands and feet, was Fleya. One side of her pale face was covered in blood from a head injury, and she appeared to be talking to the young necromancer, even though it was clear she was struggling to do so.

Whatever she said was ignored by Kelewulf. Lann and Astrid watched as he tilted his head back and started to intone words in a strange language, the sounds drifting up to them on the wind. Even from where he stood, Lann could make out the fear and desperation on his aunt’s face, and he fancied he heard her cry out, begging the young man to stop.