‘Sorry, boy,’ he said as he turned around to stroke the dog, then saw what he was whining at.

Beneath the curve of the root was what looked like a pool of shadow, but as Haelan looked closer he saw that it was more than that. It was a hole.

Pots was digging in a mound of loose earth spread before it.

Haelan crawled up to the hole, saw that it was bigger than him, bigger than a full-grown man. He stuck his head inside, saw the root twisting and boring its way into the dark earth. Then the ground crumbled beneath him and he fell in, head first, sliding and rolling, soil getting in his face, his mouth. He came to a crunching halt, falling onto the root, the earth around it eroded away by rain and frost so that it made a kind of cavern, large enough for him to stand, if he stooped. Daylight seeped into the hole, enough for him to see that the root branched left and right. Pots was looking down at him, tail wagging.

‘It’s not a game,’ he muttered, then, figuring he may as well explore while he was down here, he crawled to the left, following the root. Abruptly the root took a sudden twist, arcing down, almost vertically, and Haelan stopped. A strange smell leaked up from the hole here, strong and acidic, like rotting vegetables mixed with . . . something else. Whatever it was, he wanted to get away from it, the smell feeling like fingers clawing their way into his mouth. He shuffled back along the root; the smell receded, and soon he was at the point where he’d fallen in. Pots started barking at him when he came into view. He decided to go the other way now, enjoying the thought that he’d found something new in this ancient fortress, something that only he knew about.

It could be my den, he thought, my secret place.

Den?

Then, from the darkness in front of him, he heard a low, terrifying growl. He froze. The growling rumbled on, then faded, and behind it he heard something else. A squeaking sound.

He shuffled back along the root as fast as he could, stood on tiptoes to climb out, jumped and caught hold of the edge, pulling and scrambling to get out. Leaping to his feet, he sprinted around a corner and saw Tahir marching purposefully towards him, pointing at him.

‘I’ve been searching everywhere for you,’ Tahir said as Haelan ran past him.

‘Can’t stop,’ he blurted, not even slowing, heard the sound of slapping feet as Tahir ran after him.

He found Corban in the weapons court, holding sword and shield and sparring with Wulf. Gar stood watching them, his arms folded across his chest and a frown upon his face.

Haelan skidded to a halt, desperate to tell Corban his news, but saw he was in the middle of something with Gar.