‘That’s it,’ The Explorer said, pointing to a tree-covered hillock.

  They had trekked a long way west. Christoph had kept his bow stave close at all times, but they had not been bothered once. Apparently, there was a warg den in these parts, but they hadn’t caught sight or sound of the creatures.

  Their attention was on this barrow.

  ‘That’s how you left it?’ Manslayer asked.

  Chunks of stone had been pulled from the walled up entrance and dumped in a pile outside the barrow. Larger stones had been piled up against the remnants of the wall.

  ‘Aye,’ Twerk said. ‘Doesn’t look like it’s been messed with since we left.’

  ‘What about this sorcerous barrier,’ Ashlyn said, looking uncomfortable. ‘That didn’t allow the wargs in. What if it prevents us from entering?’

  ‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ Manslayer said.

  ‘But how does it work?’ the Durnish girl persisted, looking fearful.

  Christoph felt exactly the same. Talk of ancient magic gave him the jitters.

  Manslayer sighed. ‘Most likely a hex was placed here by a sorcerer, at the same time they closed the barrow up. It prevents certain creatures from entering. Animals, let’s say. Or anything evil.’

  ‘How can it have lasted all this time?’ Christoph asked. They had no way of knowing how long the mound had been here. But it clearly predated the arrival of the settlers to Gal’azu. In which case, if it was the work of some lost civilisation, it could have lain here for hundreds of years. Thousands. He gave an involuntary shudder.

  Manslayer was in general a patient man, but he now put his hands on his hips and looked from Christoph to Ashlyn. ‘I’m no expert on magic. First, we need to see if we can all get inside. Then, we’ll take it from there. We don’t need to understand all the whys and wherefores to complete the mission.’

  ‘But there may be other spells in place here, as well as the hex,’ Christoph said. The thought of crawling into the underworld unnerved him. He hoped the hex spell would stop him from entering. He could stand guard outside, with his bow.

  ‘Perfectly possible,’ Manslayer agreed. ‘Likely, even.’

  Christoph gulped. But The Explorer and Twerk, growing impatient, climbed over the wall and entered. Manslayer and The Baron followed them. The Baron’s all black outfit meant he virtually disappeared as soon as he entered. Christoph shared a resigned look with Ashlyn.

  ‘It’s alright, sweethearts. Auntie will look after you.’ Christoph’s aunt ushered them both towards the entrance.

  Christoph was disappointed when whatever spell had been cast on the place ignored him and let him enter. He had to crouch to fit inside. The barrow was only about four feet high. He could sense the packed earth above, pressing down.

  Inside it was dark and still, like death. Twerk was trying to light a torch. Christoph took his bow stave in hand and strung it, readying himself for trouble. He patted his quiver of arrows, making sure they were close to hand.

  ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’ Jaelin whispered to him. ‘It’s a tight squeeze in here.’ He wafted a knife in Christoph’s direction. ‘One of these might be better.’

  Christoph couldn’t help receiving The Explorer’s words as a criticism. The last time he had used his bow, he’d shot Ashlyn by accident. No. He wasn’t going to be dictated to by someone only a few years older than himself. ‘I’ve spent every day since I left the farm practising with this thing, until I have blisters on my blisters. I’ve only just reached competent level. I’m not going to swap it out for a weapon I have no skill with.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said The Explorer.

  ‘Hush!’ Twerk hissed irritably. He’d got his torch going. It issued some light, and a lot of smoke. At least Christoph could now see a few feet into the tunnel ahead of them. It continued at the same height. The gnome was able to walk ahead. Everyone else had to crawl or crouch walk behind him.

  The tunnel had a slight curve. On each side, stones had been positioned at regular intervals. For decoration, or ritual, perhaps. Whatever had been in the minds of the people who made the place, it had taken no small effort.

  Twerk stopped. The flickering torchlight illuminated half of his face and cast the rest in shadow. It made him look like a demon who had arrived from his underground lair. ‘It opens up ahead,’ he whispered, his voice strained.

  Ahead of Christoph, Manslayer turned around. ‘Auntie, I suggest you stay here, where it’s safer. If anyone gets injured, we can bring them to you.’

  Auntie Femke silently nodded her agreement.

  So, Manslayer was expecting danger. Christoph’s mouth went dry. He hadn’t really felt fear when they had fought against Redblade’s brigands. But down here, fear seemed to swirl amongst them. It was invisible, but not imperceptible. Slick and greasy, it clenched his guts, and closed his throat.