‘She’s there, in the fog,’ he said softly. ‘Somewhere there, in the fog… But the devil knows where. The devil knows whence she’ll strike… Like back there… In Dun Dare… On Samhain Eve…’

He began to draw his sword from its scabbard with a trembling hand. Tawny Owl leaped at him, seized him by the arm and tugged him forcefully.

‘Shut your trap, you old fool,’ he hissed.

But it was too late. The terror had spread to the others. They also drew their swords, involuntarily positioning themselves to have one of their companions behind them.

‘She’s not a spectre!’ Rience snapped loudly. ‘She isn’t even a witch! And there are ten of us! In Dun Dare there were only four and they were all drunk!’

‘Spread out,’ said Bonhart suddenly, ‘to the left and right, in a line. And move forward together! Don’t lose sight of each other.’

‘You too?’ Rience grimaced. ‘Has it infected you too, Bonhart? I thought you were less superstitious than that.’ The bounty hunter looked at him with eyes that were colder than ice.

‘Spread out into a line,’ he repeated, ignoring the sorcerer. ‘Keep your distance. I’m going back for my horse.’

‘What?’

Bonhart didn’t grace Rience with an answer again. Rience swore, but Tawny Owl quickly placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘Leave it,’ he snapped, ‘let him go. And let’s not waste time! In a line! Bert and Stigward, left! Ola, right…’

‘What for, Skellen?’

‘The ice will break more easily under men walking in a group,’ Boreas Mun muttered, ‘than spread out in a line. Furthermore, if we walk in a line abreast, there’s less of a risk the wench will outflank us.’

‘Outflank us?’ Rience snorted. ‘How could she? The tracks in front of us are as plain as a pikestaff. The maid is going straight ahead. Were she to try to turn, the trail would betray it—’

‘Enough chatter.’ Tawny Owl cut them off, looking back into the fog into which Bonhart had vanished as he left them. ‘Forward!’ They went on.

‘It’s getting warmer,’ Boreas Mun panted. ‘The ice on top is melting, it’ll form overflow ice…’

‘The fog’s getting thicker…’

‘But the footprints can still be seen,’ said Dacre Silifant. ‘Moreover, it seems the girl has slowed down. Her strength is waning.’

‘As is ours,’ Rience tore off his hat and fanned himself with it.

‘Quiet,’ Silifant suddenly stopped. ‘Did you hear that? What was it?’

‘I didn’t hear anything.’

‘But I did… Like a scraping… A scraping on the ice… But not from there,’ Boreas Mun pointed at the fog, into which the trail was fading. ‘It seems to be over on the left, to the side…’

‘I heard it too,’ Tawny Owl confirmed, looking anxiously around. ‘But now it’s gone quiet. Dammit, I don’t like it. I don’t like it!’