He did not want to hear it. He felt like he was standing in for the world that had forced this young woman to live apart from her family. In Lothern, he had seen many examples of the way elven society made the people in it cold and distant. He had not expected to encounter the same here.

‘You have a brother,’ she said. ‘The famous magician.’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you close to him?’

‘Yes.’

‘And your mother?’

‘She died when we were born. It was a difficult birth, so they say – twins.’

‘I am sorry.’

‘Why? You never knew her.’

‘Nor did you. Perhaps you would have been different if you had.’

He did not want this conversation to go any further. ‘I am going to take a look around,’ he said. ‘Make sure there are no dark elves sneaking up on us.’

He moved off into the quiet of the night and did not return until she was asleep or pretending to be. He stared into the fire for a long time, thinking of daemons and gods, castles and the lovely stranger lying so close by the fire.

The fire had burned down and the sun had already risen when he came awake suddenly. The woods around them were filled with the noise of an approaching army. Alarielle was already awake, staring at him with fear-filled eyes. Sometimes he thought he saw something else staring out at him, something ancient and alien and strange.

‘We need to run,’ he told her. ‘Now!’

Chapter Four

‘What’s that?’ Alarielle asked. Tyrion could understand why she was disturbed. He recognised that eerie high-pitched screeching sound. He had heard it before in the cold northern lands of Naggaroth. It was a sound that meant terror to the warriors of Ulthuan.

‘Cold Ones,’ Tyrion said.

‘The great lizards that the dark elves use as cavalry? What are they doing here?’ Alarielle asked.

‘Looking for us,’ Tyrion said. ‘That would be my guess.’

‘I mean in Avelorn.’

Again he understood her shock but he chose to wilfully misunderstand it. ‘Doubtless they got here the same way as their riders. One day, if we are lucky, we will know how that happened.’

‘Cold Ones,’ she said softly, as if not quite believing either her own words or the distant bellowing of the great beasts.

‘We need to move. They can smell warm blood. They are trained to be particularly receptive to the smell of high elf blood.’

Almost as if the creatures could hear him, the bellowing came closer.

‘It sounds like there are a number of them,’ Alarielle said.

‘One would be too many,’ Tyrion said. He was already starting to jog down the track, trusting to Alarielle to follow him. She kept up easily. His side hurt from where the witch elf’s blade had bit home. It was going to be difficult for him to keep up any speed over long distances.

Tyrion could hear the sound of branches breaking as the Cold Ones’ massive forms forced their way through the forest. Horns sounded, nearby and farther in the distance, as the dark elves exchanged signals. They were on the track of something and it seemed safe to assume that the trail which had been found was their own.

‘They’ve caught our scent,’ Alarielle said.

‘Some of them can smell warm blood at a distance of a mile,’ Tyrion said. ‘I don’t doubt that this is why these riders were sent ahead.’

‘We can still lose them if we can find a way to water.