A fire roared in the iron grate, the pot of stew bubbling in the flames. She took wooden bowls from a shelf and filled them to the brim. “Warghhh! Get that down yow!”

The boys dived into the delicious food until every last lump of tender meat was spooned away. Finally, they both sat back, soaking up the warmth of the room. Mucum stretched out his legs and gave a satisfied belch.

“What do you say?” demanded Shiv, with her hands on her hips.

Mucum’s face went red. “Pardon me,” he muttered.

Ark laughed for the first time in ages. “Well done, Shiv. Our parents did bring us up right!” Shiv smiled primly and snuggled up in Ark’s arms.

A voice leapt from the shadows in the corner of the room. “Time is running out! The Harvest Festival draws near. This is why I have summoned you here.”

They all jumped in their seats.

“Wish yer wouldn’t do that. We’ll get indigestion!” Mucum complained.

“Forgive me,” said Corwenna, striding into the light. “I am an impatient woman, and old habits die hard. Follow me. I have something for you.”

At the back of the living room was a door that Ark had never noticed.

Corwenna pulled it open to reveal a simple cave of hollowed-out wood. A small recess held a single candle. Ark sniffed once. There was a strange perfume soaked into the grain. The scent of roses. Suddenly, he felt overwhelmed with sadness.

“Is this …”

“The place it all began? You know that it is,” said Corwenna.

Pictures seeped into Ark’s mind. A fair-haired woman, curled up like a cat on the floor, wrapped in a blanket of cobwebs as she slept. Storms and seasons raging by outside. A pair of eyes suddenly shooting open, green as leaves, staring back at him across a thousand years with a look that could melt winter and bring spring to a barren land.

Tears tumbled down Ark’s cheeks. “Can you feel it?” he said. But his companions merely shrugged their shoulders. Whatever message lay slumbering in this dark hole was for him alone.

“What’s that shiny thing? Is it treasure?” Shiv’s small finger pointed to the edge of the flickering shadows where a raven feather rested on the ground. Cradled within its curl lay a glass phial, threaded on a leather necklace.

“Treasure?” Corwenna sighed. “I’m afraid not, though this might be more valuable than life itself.”

Corwenna crawled into the tiny hollow and carefully lifted the phial from its resting place. She shook the small bottle, the shadowy liquid within sparking under the dim light. “My brave Hedd traveled far to the north, to the Skylake at the edge of the Land of the Dead. There, Arktorious, he met with one you have dearly missed for so long. This dark gift is the result of his journey.”