‘THERE ARE NO LAWS HERE EXCEPT MINE,’ said the giant. ‘AND ALL THE PREY IN THESE WOODS BELONGS TO ME.’

‘Of course. Of course. I would never hunt any creature that belonged to you. My quarry comes from lands far away. I have been tracking them for days.’

‘NOTHING HAS PASSED THROUGH MY LANDS,’ said the giant. ‘TAKE YOUR HUNT ELSEWHERE.’

‘Are you sure? I found their tracks next to a sprung net trap. And then yours led away. Heavier, as if you were carrying a load.’

The mud around them shook as something gigantic moved above. The giant was walking towards the speaker, his feet coming to rest very close to their pit.

‘WHAT IS THAT YOU BRING WITH YOU? I CAN SENSE WRONGNESS ABOUT IT. A SMELL I REMEMBER FROM AGES PAST . . .’

‘Oh, those are just my hounds,’ said the hunter. ‘An unusual breed. Nothing to concern yourself with.’

‘SHOW ME ONE. NOW.’

Liska could hear the sounds of more footsteps and muttered words from the hunter. It was definitely Thresher. She had somehow got past Beric and had followed them right up to the trap. And for some reason she didn’t want the giant to see her evil slave creatures.

Whiskers tickled her cheek and she felt small paws on her neck. Turning, she found herself looking into Fishbone’s gleaming, yellow eyes.

‘Giant is distracted,’ he whispered so quietly it was hardly a breath. ‘We could try and escape now?’

Liska nodded. She reached up to touch the wooden hatch above. Stretching her hind legs, she pushed against it.

Solid. It wouldn’t budge.

Perhaps if I changed to human form and got the others to help? There was a small chance they could lift it a bit. Maybe enough for Fishbone to escape.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a frantic tugging at one of her wings. She looked down to see the pale smudge of Lug’s face. Even in the pitch darkness, she could tell his eyes were wide open in fright.

‘Stop that,’ she hissed. ‘You’ll pull my feathers out!’

He kept pulling.

‘I felt something! Coming through the wall!’

‘He’s right,’ said Elowen. ‘There is. It’s seeping through behind us!’

Everyone scuffled and shuffled over to Liska’s side of the pit. She stopped trying to push the hatch open and sniffed at the muddy wall opposite. Immediately her nose was filled with the stink of oily rot, pungent and burning. There was only one thing in the world that smelt like that.

‘It’s a seeper!’ She bared her teeth and growled. ‘One of Thresher’s hounds is trying to ooze its way in!’

It was too dark to see anything, but they could hear a soft sucking, squelching sound as the thing slowly bubbled through the soil towards them. Liska imagined its grey oily body forming into a tendril, then two, then three, as the thing nosed its way into their pit inch by inch.