He is safer with the fomori. She did not often lie to herself and the comforting delusion did not hold long in her mind. The time for keeping him safe slipped by long ago.

Morning had fully blossomed when the fort appeared across the plains. Chill mist clung to the man-made hill that the great wooden walls perched upon. The structure dominated the landscape, hunkered protectively above the partitioned fields where cattle and sheep pulled at the dew-damp grass. The villagers produced pitiful expressions of relief and quickened their pace, making for the hill and the uninviting fort with more speed than when they fled their homes. Fafnir took the guide rope of his mule from the boy who had led the animal during the flight. Rosheen turned her back in disgust.

Must have his goods. Plenty of trade to be had in a fort.

The people were halfway across the fields and riders were already coming out the gate to meet them. Riders that were looked for throughout the length of their harrowing journey. She had a moment’s worry for the gnome, but there was little room in her heart left, so long as Padric’s fate remained a mystery.

Rosheen made to follow the villagers when she was grabbed from behind and pulled backwards. Thick, powerful fingers clutched her from shoulders to thighs, pinning her arms and her wings. The dwarf’s strange, lilting voice whispered closely to her.

“Oh, I do not think you will be going up there.”

T EN

TEN

Padric could not remember what it was to be warm. The suffocating horror of the burning village was a misremembered nightmare. The real world was uncontrollable shivering, spasms of numb pain and building panic that could only be calmed if he surrendered to death.

And Padric did not want to die.

He stayed in the river as long as he could, hours or minutes, he did not know. The sun had risen, barely discernible behind a film of cloud, ashamed to look upon the doings of the night. He struggle to the nearest bank and hauled himself out of the current. The icy waters were a warm bath compared to the shock of the morning air. The slightest breeze sliced into his bones and his shivering turned into violent convulsions, his teeth drumming against each other in clacking mockery at his helpless condition. He lay curled tightly into himself on the bank, eyes and fists clenched painfully tight, willing the cold to leave him alone. It was no use. If he lay there, he would die.