The next day, after her cousins had shown Anira around the house, Little Gavin dragged her through the scullery into a small courtyard where there was a dovecote. ‘Ervingal’s carrier pigeons,’ said Dunkan, who was following close behind. He opened one of the cages and carefully grabbed a bird with both his hands. Anira looked at the bird, which started cooing softly.

‘They fly all the way from Varna to Lavinyord, and back again,’ Little Gavin said. ‘Over and over again. Isn’t that strange?’

Anira nodded and smiled at Dunkan. Meanwhile, she thought about the promise the Watcher Yarnus had wheedled out of her in Lavinyord.

‘How does it work?’ Anira asked.

‘You tie a little cylinder containing the rolled-up letter to its leg and set it free. That’s all,’ Dunkan explained. ‘These pigeons are trained to fly to the council city hall in Lavinyord.’ He put the bird back in its cage.

Anira’s expression turned serious. ‘I know Ervingal will never agree, but don’t you boys want to go back to your home in the capital?’

Dunkan sighed. ‘There’s nothing I’d want more, but Ervingal hasn’t told your parents everything that’s been going on.’ He stroked his brother’s head. ‘After our mother died, Ervingal took to drinking and he started to neglect his smithy. I suspect he got into a considerable amount of debt playing dice. In any case, his reputation is in tatters. I think we should consider ourselves lucky that the King has given us this opportunity.’ He fell silent.

‘That’s horrible,’ Anira mumbled.

‘We’re going to have to make the most of it here in Varna.’ Dunkan shook his head despondently. ‘Come,’ he said, ‘we’ll show you the village.’

They walked past the house and descended the hill to the outskirts of the village. Then they made their way through the houses until they reached the village square. There were groups of people everywhere, talking or smoking pipes. Little Gavin pointed to the middle of the square where some women were lugging buckets back and forth. ‘That’s the water well over there,’ he said.

‘Some people say it’s a wishing well and that your wish will come true when you drop a piece of Ether crystal in it.’ He put his hand in his pocket and produced a tiny Ether shard. He very carefully placed it into Anira’s hand.

They walked to the middle of the square and went to stand next to the well. Anira leaned over the edge and looked down. She saw the water glistening far below.

‘Go on,’ Little Gavin said.

Anira exchanged a glance with Dunkan. He had trouble not bursting out laughing. She sighed, closed her eyes, and made her wish, but when she wanted to drop the Ether shard, Little Gavin stopped her. ‘No,’ he said, ‘you have to say it out loud. Otherwise, the Gods can’t hear you.’

She took a deep breath. ‘I wish I knew...’ she said softly, ‘whether the Guyins really exist or not.’

‘Guyins?’ Little Gavin said. Then he gestured impatiently at the water in the well. ‘Drop it! You have to be quick, otherwise it won’t work.’

Anira opened her hand and dropped the little Ether shard. When it plunged into the water, she suddenly felt her heart beating wildly. Everything went black, and then she saw the cruel eyes of Merg, God of War, just like in her dreams. She heard his deep voice, but the words slowly died away as she regained her sight.

Dunkan carefully put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Are you all right?’

Anira rubbed her hands over her face and shook off the images. She heard laughter. She turned around in irritation and looked straight into the eyes of the ferry cabin boy with the scar on his neck. His two friends were standing next to him. For a second, she was nailed to the ground.

He walked towards her. ‘Have you kept your mouth shut?’ he asked.

When she didn’t say anything, he shoved her shoulder. His touch felt like a hammer blow. She had to fight back her tears.

Dunkan stepped in front of her. ‘Hey, what’s your problem?’ He moved his hand to the hilt of his dagger.

‘Stay out of it, or draw your knife so we can find out who’s the strongest.’ The cabin boy grinned and gestured at Dunkan’s dagger. ‘Or are you afraid?’

Dunkan looked at him. ‘Leave us alone, or I’ll have my father deal with you. You know who that is right?’

‘You won’t get away with it that easily…’

Anira couldn’t face it any longer and bolted. She randomly turned into an alley leading to the west side of the village.

‘Wait!’ Dunkan yelled.

‘Yeah, run after her,’ she heard the cabin boy yell. ‘We’ll get you soon enough.’

Anira was crying. She didn’t stop running until she had reached the outer reaches of the village. The strip of land covered in dead tree trunks stretched out in front of her, and to her right, only a few dozen feet outside the village, stood a large building. Dunkan and Little Gavin came running after her, panting. ‘Tonight, the ferry leaves for Lavinyord again,’ Dunkan said. ‘For an entire month. So, you won’t have to worry about him anymore.’

Anira nodded.

Dunkan gestured at the building. ‘Ervingal actually doesn’t want us coming out here. That’s where the criminals are kept prisoner. Ervingal wants us to steer clear of them.’

Anira wiped the tears off her face and stared at the building. Contrary to the wooden houses in the village, this building was made of limestone. A long row of small windows had been hacked out, in order to ventilate the cells. Behind one of them, Anira saw the grubby face of a prisoner.

‘What are Guyins?’ Little Gavin asked. When Anira didn’t answer, he tugged at her sleeve.

‘Guyins, you say?’ the prisoner said. He grinned widely, showing a row of yellow teeth. He stuck his head out the window. ‘They say we’re crazy.’ He started to cough.

Anira looked at the man. He had red eyes, and the corner of his mouth was crooked. Anira walked towards him. Her cousins objected but followed her anyway.

‘They say it’s because of the nightshade,’ the prisoner said. ‘That we smoke too much of it and it makes us see things that ain’t real.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘And maybe they’re right.’

‘What do you mean?’ Anira asked quietly.

The man nodded to the south. ‘My cell overlooks the edge of the forest.’ He chuckled. ‘Horrifying monsters lurk in the shadows of that forest.’

Anira looked at him, wide eyed. ‘What have you seen?’

‘Well, who can say?’ the prisoner said. ‘Huge shapes, kneeling and lamenting by the bleeding tree trunks. Sometimes I hear their hoarse wails in my dreams. Drums beating in the distance. I only ever saw their dark silhouettes, though. They are big and steal through the night without making a sound.’ He slathered his tongue across his grimy teeth. ‘If you ask me, they’re the ones who overpowered the loggers and dragged their bodies into the forest, but nobody believes me. And why would they?’

Little Gavin looked terrified and kept shifting his gaze from Anira to the prisoner. ‘I want to go home,’ he said.

From behind the corner of the building came the sound of marching men. Moments later the head foreman appeared with six prisoners in his wake. The men were carrying axes and saws, and their feet were bound together with short chains. The head foreman ordered them to stop. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked the children.

The prisoner behind the small window laughed loudly. ‘I’ve been telling them about the Guyins, boss. Finally, somebody who believes me!’

‘Shut your mouth, Haynik!’ the head foreman snarled.

‘You’d better be careful!’ Haynik yelled at the chained workers. ‘A grim fate awaits you if you keep felling those trees.’ He drew his head back from the window and disappeared from sight.

‘So, answer me,’ the head foreman said to the children. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘We were just showing our cousin around the village,’ Dunkan said. Little Gavin hid behind his brother.

‘Don’t play dumb with me,’ the head foreman said. ‘You’re Ervingal Danu’s stepsons. And I’m sure your father has told you this isn’t a good place to hang around. No wonder he’s incapable of steering the construction of Varna in the right direction, seeing that he can’t even keep his own children in line. Tell him that I’ll lodge another complaint against him with the village council, if things continue the way they are.’ He raised his fist. ‘Now, get lost!’

Dunkan took Little Gavin by the hand and ushered Anira away in the direction back to the village square. Just before they disappeared between the houses, Anira looked back. The head foreman was staring after them. The look in his eyes gave her an ominous feeling. She walked on quickly. When they reached the slope in front of Ervingal’s house, she asked her cousins to stop. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to get you into trouble.’

‘It’s all right,’ Dunkan said.

‘Do you really believe what the prisoner said?’ Little Gavin asked Anira. ‘About the monsters in the forest? The Guyins?’

Before Anira could say anything, Dunkan answered his brother: ‘No, don’t be silly,’ he said. ‘Monsters don’t exist, so there’s no need to be afraid, Little Gavin.’ He gave Anira a short, disparaging look and then walked into the house with his little brother.

After dinner Anira went straight to bed. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep, but her slim body remained restless. She dreamed about a grave. About a labyrinth of black bones. Dark shapes wandered around in her dreams, and she tossed and turned under her blankets. The night passed slowly, until she suddenly heard her uncle’s voice from the room opposite hers. Startled, Anira shot up and walked into the hallway. She put her ear to the door but could hardly hear what he was saying. Despite this, she was able to hear his labored breathing. Curious to discover what was going on, Anira carefully opened the door.

‘But is everything then… lost?’ Ervingal muttered. He was lying in his bed and his face was covered in sweat. He was clutching his blanket tightly.

Anira went into the room and closed the door behind her.

‘Please,’ Ervingal whispered, ‘no one will believe me. I beg you, help me…’ He jerked his head. ‘My family… I need to bring them to safety.’

There was a pipe on Ervingal’s bedside table. Anira picked it up by the stem and held the bowl under her nose. She frowned, put the pipe back down on the table and studied Ervingal’s face.

‘Tell me what to do.’ He threw off his blanket. A tear ran down his face. ‘I beg you…’

Anira grabbed her uncle’s shoulder and shook him awake. He slowly opened his eyes, but when he recognized his niece, he jolted upright. ‘What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night,’ he said. He brushed a strand of hair from his sweaty face.

She looked at him. ‘You were talking in your sleep,’ she said.

Ervingal nervously looked around for his blanket. Anira picked it up off the ground and handed it to her uncle. ‘Your dream - what frightened you so much?’

‘What are you talking about?’ Ervingal said. ‘Go to sleep.’

She squinted. ‘My parents might accept your lies as the truth, but you’re not fooling me.’ She clenched her fists.

‘Nonsense,’ he said angrily.

‘I know why you’re lying. You’re afraid everybody will think you’re mad if you tell them the truth. And then what? Then Varna will be lost, won’t it?’ She grabbed him by his nightshirt.

Ervingal grabbed her wrist and jerked her hand loose. ‘I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but your allegations are ridiculous.’ He laughed. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Go back to sleep, Anira.’

She broke away from his gaze and walked back to her room. Lying in bed, she couldn’t get her uncle’s face out of her head, with the forlorn expression wrought across it whilst he lay trapped in a delirious dream. A vision, just like hers.