‘Look, like this,’ Cywen said. She gave Laith a demonstration, breaking down the action. Grip with two fingers and thumb. Arm loose, back to the ear, sight, breathe, throw, snapping the wrist. Laith tried it and threw the knife in her hand. It tinged off of the trunk, spinning into the undergrowth. With a gasp of horror she ran to find it, trampling undergrowth as she searched in circles. The look of relief on her face when she found it was immense.

‘You did it wrong,’ Cywen said. ‘Look. The blade strokes your ear – not too close, don’t draw blood.’

Laith stood next to her, set her feet as Cywen had, gripped the knife and pulled it back to her ear.

‘No. Like this,’ Cywen said. She walked around the giantling and moved her arm to the correct position, having to stand on tiptoes to reach it. Cywen stepped away and saw that Farrell was standing close by.

‘I always wondered how you did that,’ he said.

‘You could have just asked.’ To Laith she said, ‘Try it now.’

Laith’s arm sprang forwards, and before the knife had connected with the trunk Cywen knew she’d thrown well.

Laith grinned and ran to the tree, Cywen and Farrell following.

‘Oh,’ Laith said.

The knife had almost disappeared, only a finger’s width of the hilt protruding from the trunk.

Laith tried to pull it out, but couldn’t get a grip on the hilt. Farrell tried. He did manage to get a hold of it, but it was stuck fast.

‘Short of chopping the tree down, you’ll not be seeing that blade again,’ he declared.

Laith hung her head unhappily.

‘Here,’ Cywen said, working one of her other blades free. ‘Take this one as your pattern. When we find a forge, make some of your own. Until then try not to bury it in something inanimate.’

Laith smiled, her mood turning like a summer storm.

‘Though I don’t know when we’ll ever get to use a forge again.’

‘There’ll be a forge at Dun Crin. Or Drassil,’ Farrell said. ‘Wherever we’re going.’

‘Balur One-Eye says that we will see the Darkwood on the morrow,’ Laith said quietly.

‘The Darkwood,’ Cywen breathed. She remembered it none too fondly. It was where Ronan had been slain. They had been courting. And he had been slain by Morcant.

‘Aye. Time for the Bright Star to choose our way,’ Laith said.

‘What’s going on here?’ a voice said. The three of them spun around to see Coralen approaching, wrapped in her wolven pelt and claws as usual. A few of her scouts followed behind her – Dath and two Jehar, both women, one young, one old.