“It’s too big and heavy. It would take two men to carry it. We can’t afford anything that will slow us down. Thorgrim will do well enough with a cloak over him.” He glanced at the covering.

“Where did it come from, Donn?” Felix asked. He had his arm around young Colm’s shoulders; the lad was ashen, his memories close to the surface. Getting him through the subterranean passage would not be easy.

“Fiac found it down by the shore,” said the third survivor. “He made us bring it up so we could keep warm. We slept under it every night. Would have died, if not for that, all of us one by one. Fiac died anyway. His dreams sent him mad. Fell down the drop.” His expression was impassive, his tone flat. Perhaps he had seen so much that he was beyond feeling anything.

“Time to go, lads.” Berchan nodded at Donn and the two of them headed out together. Felix followed, shepherding Colm. The last of the others went after them, leaving only Cathal and me.

“Danu, look kindly on this place,” I murmured. “Accept our thanks for the shelter it provided when men were in trouble. May the breath of the gods purify it; may the soft voice of the waterfall bring peace once more. May it be cleansed of all sorrows. May this be holy ground.”

The first part of the tunnel was not so bad. Light came down through chinks and holes high above, showing us where to put our feet on the uneven, often slippery rock floor. The way was narrow in places and we were slowed by the stretcher, which was hard to get around corners. I could hear Felix coughing. I prayed that he might not fall sick again. For I could see a possible future that would be the stuff of a grand and tragic tale, and the thought of it chilled me to the bone.

Donn seemed in the best health of the three we had rescued. He made a resolute effort to walk without support, and managed well, though his pace was slow. Berchan stayed beside him. Felix was still with Colm. Donn was grimly silent, all his energy concentrated on moving forward. Colm was talking: a stream of words flowed from him, as if, now that the rescue party was here at last, he must release all he had held bottled within him during those long, lonely days and nights. He spoke about the monster, about seeing men die, about coming back down to the shore to find Freyja gone, about how Fiac’s body had been wedged in a crevice further down the chasm and how they could not reach it, and how the gulls had come, and—

“Shut up, Colm,” grunted Donn, and, much to my relief, the boy fell silent.