‘I haven’t seen any guards,’ said Jack, as the sun dipped below the mountain ridge.

‘Nor have I,’ agreed Miyuki.

‘They’re overconfident,’ said Hayato. ‘Akuma clearly doesn’t believe anyone would find them here.’

‘No one ever has,’ said Sora, shivering in the icy mountain air. ‘Or at least, none have returned to tell the tale.’

‘Don’t worry, we will,’ said Jack, praying he spoke the truth.

Skirting the edge of the lake, they kept to the cover of the trees for as long as they could, then used the larger boulders to creep closer. But this only took them so far.

‘It’s open ground from here,’ said Miyuki. ‘I’ll go first.’

Checking the way was clear, she sprinted for the near wall of the bunkhouse. As she reached halfway, the main door opened and a bandit stepped out. In an instant, she dropped into a crouch and became still as a stone. Dressed in her white shinobi shozoku, she appeared no more than a mound of snow. And despite knowing exactly where she was, even Jack had difficulty spotting her in the half-light.

The bandit, shuddering against the cold, strode in her direction. He drew closer and closer. She was bound to be discovered. From behind their boulder, Hayato took an arrow from his quiver and raised his bow.

‘Just in case,’ he whispered, targeting the man in the throat.

But the bandit walked straight on by, completely oblivious to Miyuki at his feet. He headed over to a small outhouse. A few minutes later, he returned to the main building, closing the door behind him. Only then did Miyuki look up and dart for the shelter of the wall.

‘That was too close,’ said Hayato, lowering his weapon.

Miyuki peeked through a slat in a lower window of the bunkhouse. Satisfied no one else was coming out, she beckoned them over one at a time. After they were all safely concealed in the shadows, Jack pressed an eye to the slat for his first real look at their enemy.

Inside, a roaring fire burned in a massive hearth at the centre of the room. Bandits were sprawled everywhere, gorging themselves on bowls of rice and large jugs of saké. In one corner a group of men were betting on a rowdy game of dice. In another, a small crowd cheered on two bandits arm-wrestling. Their wrists were bound together and either side of the table were flaming candles. Biceps rippling, they fought furiously against one another. The wrestler on the left screamed as his hand was forced into the burning flame. His opponent just laughed at his suffering.

If this is how they treat one another, thought Jack, what hope do we have?