Bending almost double, I clamber inside the hollow trunk of the tree. The ground is covered with dead leaves and it smells of dank wood and rot. I blink against the gloom and try not to think about the hole to the underworld.

There isn’t enough room to swing an axe, but if the draugr follows me inside, maybe I can hide by the other exit of the chamber and kill it as it emerges.

I go to the far opening, opposite to where I entered, and bury the axe under a pile of leaves in case the draugr tries to take it. If it thinks I’m unarmed, I’ll have the advantage of surprise. I hurry back to the middle of the space and wait. My heart beats like a wild thing. I turn and stare to my left, presuming the creature will follow the way I came, then check to the right just in case. The only sound is my breathing and the caw of the birds.

A voice calls in the distance. I’m sure I heard my name. I listen but there’s nothing. Maybe it was just the wind.

‘Martha!’

This time there’s no mistake. Mum!

I rush to the opening of the tree but I can’t see her. Maybe she’s gone to the forest, or back to the cabin? I want to call out, but what if she comes and the creature is waiting? I couldn’t bear it if –

Something grabs my hair and forces me down. My face scrapes the ground as I’m dragged backwards. The draugr grunts and snorts behind me. I struggle onto my back. The creature’s nose is missing, so that there’s just a hole. A large scrap of skin hangs from its face, its head mostly just skull. The ravens have pecked its shoulders clean to the bone.

I kick as hard as I can. Managing to get free, I hurry to the right side of the chamber. I search the leaves but I can’t find the axe! My fingers dig into the leaves and earth. Shaking with panic, I run to the other exit, then come back. At last I find it.

Too late. The draugr is before me, just outside the tree. It must have gone out the other way and around the outside. It reaches in to grab me, when something slams into its head and it stumbles sideways. Mum stands behind the creature, holding a branch.

‘Mum!’

She sees me and nods, then readies herself to strike again. Her pale face is set with grim determination. I can’t believe she’s here – and fighting! I grab the axe and scramble out from the tree. Once outside, I hurl the weapon on top of a massive gnarled root, then clamber after it. Bracing my legs, I raise the axe with both hands.