Dion was on the left as they shuffled out of the wide gouge in the rock wall they’d called a cave and made their way over the precarious ground, bare feet stepping over sharp rock.

The pack of wildren on the beach saw them immediately and the monstrous creatures started a lumbering run toward them.

‘They’re coming!’ Dion said hoarsely. ‘Let’s get off these rocks, but the moment we’re on sand, we run too!’

He struggled to keep his attention on his task but his eyes kept going to the wildren. The giant opened its mouth and roared, desperate for flesh. It led the charge now, long strides pounding the ground. It ran faster than Dion had expected for a creature of such size.

‘We’re on the sand. Run!’ Dion shouted.

They almost dropped the boat as they shifted into their own ragged sprint. The boat slipped off Dion’s shoulder and stars sparkled across his vision as he lifted it back on. The beach began to slope toward the water.

‘Last stretch!’ Dion gasped. ‘Nearly there!’

He looked over his shoulder and saw a mouth the size of a dinner plate open wide, displaying sharp black teeth as the giant roared again. There were seven in the group; he didn’t know how he managed to count them but he did. Though no words were spoken, there was clear coordination to their actions. They were close enough for him to see individual scars on their bodies.

Dion’s feet plunged into the water and the sensation was so unexpected that the boat slipped forward and none of them was able to hold it up any longer. It struck the shallow water hard, but the keel held, despite digging hard into the sand underneath.

‘Get her off the bottom!’ Cob shouted.

Working together they got the boat moving once more. Dion thanked the gods that the tide was coming in as a wave sent water underneath the hull, lifting up the vessel and enabling them to push it forward.

‘Get in!’ Dion cried.

Cob was short and already in water up to his armpits. With groaning effort, he managed to haul his body over the side. Sal followed a moment later.

Dion ran forward, pushing the boat ahead of him. He gave one final mighty shove and nearly lost his grip near the tiller, but Sal held out a hand and Dion threw himself forward, tumbling into the back of the boat.

He heard a series of unforgettable sounds: the crash of several sets of legs plunging into the water; the roar of the giant; the chorus of grunts from the ogres; bumping knocks of wood against wood as Cob fit the oars.

‘The tiller!’ Cob called with panicked urgency.