The sun and hovered on the horizon before finally sank from view. A bright flicker of green was followed by a wave of strange purple light which rolled across the sky.
"Weird," Kerry said.
"That sometimes happens," Jack said. "The green flash at sunset. I read it somewhere."
"Not that." Kerry was looking towards where the sun had set. He pointed. Jack and Corriwen stood beside him.
Behind them, the sky was silken black and dotted with stars and a full moon glowed silver. But in the distance ahead, a bruised haze swelled on the horizon, and swirling like oil on a stagnant pool.
"Is that a storm coming on? Everywhere we go, there's always a freakin' storm. You'd think we could catch a break!"
"I don't like this," Corriwen whispered, almost to herself. Jack nodded. He looked around them as a breeze began to rise, bringing with it the faint whiff of burning.
"We're a bit exposed here," he said.
Kerry drew his eyes away from the strange haze. "I saw some trees over the hill," he said. "Maybe we should shelter there for the night."
The line in the Book of Ways echoed in Jack's mind: For mischief stalks the bleak of night.
"Sooner the better." Corriwen packed the remaining food into their bags. Jack stashed the Book and gathered his sword and the amberhorn bow while Kerry wrapped the smoked fish in big leaves then trotted down to a pool in the stream and hacked out an armful of tall bulrushes.
"Torches," he explained to no-one in particular. "They burn."
"Good thinking," Jack said. Kerry was always practical. They made their way fast up the slope to the coppice which covered the crest, while the purple haze expanded like a dark squall towards them. They were only a few yards from the shelter of the overhanging boughs when Kerry stopped abruptly.
"What is it?" Corriwen said, peering ahead into the shadows. From the corner of his eye, Jack caught a silver flicker and knew that she had drawn her knives.
"Not there," Kerry said. He pointed over her head and the three of them looked up at the sky.
The dark tinge was beginning to brush past the full moon, casting oily shadows over its face. As it thickened, the silver faded to violet. For a long moment the moon was completely obscured, and then it waxed bright again.
But now it glared down at them, red as blood, its surface seeming to writhe.
"Jeez Jack," Kerry breathed. "It's just like…"
"The night we saw Billy Robbins," Jack finished for him. The night - it seemed to long ago now - that Billy Robbins had hunted them through the trees behind the Major's home, the moon had turned blood red. And with it had come an awful living darkness that had oozed its way into the Major's study and caused their fearful flight through the tunnel into Cromwath Blackwood and on through the gates to another world.
Under that red moon, the Nightshades had ripped through into their home world and come hunting for them. Jack knew now that they had been searching for the mystical heartstone he bore.
"Nightshades," Kerry whispered. "Do you think they're from here?"
Cold prickles made the hair on Jack's neck stand on end. Below his collar-bone, the heartstone shuddered, giving him a warning.
Corriwen made a quick gesture with her fingers. Jack didn't know what it meant, but he could guess. She was warding off something bad.
"Come on," he said, gripping her by the elbow. "Let's get into cover."
He turned one last time. Behind him, the Farward Gate reflected the blood-light, two red pillars.
Ahead of him them, Kerry stumbled. Jack heard the crack of dry wood snapping.
"What's up?"
"Some kind of fence," Kerry said. "I fell over it."
Corriwen helped Kerry to his feet. Two halves of a thin branch hung from a pair of slender uprights. It was part of a frail barrier, though what it could have corralled Jack couldn't imagine. Small corn-dolls, woven from golden straw, hung from the horizontal struts, dancing in the odd light.
"Stupid place to put a fence," Kerry said, stepping gingerly towards the trees. Under the first leafy boughs, they were out of the direct glare of the red moon and Jack felt less nervous. They moved on until they found a small dell. Kerry collected some twigs and pulled out the little lighter that had already served them well in two worlds. He bent over the pile, flicked the lighter and jerked back as a six-inch flame almost singed his eyebrows.
"Nearly blinded myself there," he said, rubbing his eye. "The adjuster must be jammed."
He managed to start the fire and used the flames to ignite the bulrush heads before jamming the stalks into the ground to give them more light.
They sat close together in silence, each with their own thoughts, each peering now and again into the gloom beyond the glow of the torches.
"What do you think the Book was trying to say?" Kerry's question broke the silence,
Jack closed his eyes, recalling each word, the way he'd remembered lines of poetry in school.
"This place must be Uaine."
"Ooh-waine?"
"That's how you say it. I remember it from the legends. It's old, anyway. I think it was a magical place."
"It seemed that when we first came," Corriwen said. She shivered. The breeze, even in the trees was colder now despite the heat from the fire. "Now it doesn't feel right."
"Mischief stalks the bleak of night," Jack recited. He could feel the heartstone pulse slowly on his chest. " And shelter fast from bale moon wrath."
"Doesn't sound like a lot of fun and games," Kerry said.
"No," Jack said flatly. "But it got the moon dead right, so we have to be on guard tonight."
"You bet," Kerry said. "I don't think I could sleep anyway."
But in half an hour, Kerry was curled up close to the embers, head on his backpack, snoring softly. Jack and Corriwen faced each other beside the fire. Jack noticed the flickering flame made her hair gleam. She reached into her bag, pulled out some of the big nuts, and threw one to Jack.
"You bear the key to all worlds. That's what the Sky Lady said."
Jack nodded. "I think I knew that already. She called me Journeyman. That's what my father was. But she couldn't tell me where he had gone. I've got to find that out for myself."
Now your own quest begins , the lady had told him.
"She said to find the door into summer. And then the door into night. Whatever that means."
He ignored the goosebumps rising on his skin and smiled at her. "But we'll find out soon enough." He stretched out a hand and took hers.
"At least I'm not alone."
"No, Jack. We wouldn't let that happen." She smiled back at him. "One for all."
He was about to respond with Kerry's usual reply when a sudden cry startled both of them.
Kerry rolled and was on his knees in an instant, eyes wide and bewildered.
"Bad dream?" Jack asked.
Kerry nodded, short of breath. He rubbed his eyes with shaky hands.
"Just like when I was little. I used to dream there were things under the bed, crawling out to get me. It scared me to death."
"But you're not in your bed," Jack said.
"Something hit me," Kerry said. "Was it you?"
"Don't be daft," Jack said, but as he did, he heard a soft thumping sound. Kerry jerked backwards.
"Did you see that?" He pointed at his backpack. The thud came again and the backpack bucked of its of accord.
"A bristlehog," Corriwen said. "It must have crawled in." She giggled. "Just don't eat it. They're foul, and I should know."
Kerry drew his short-sword and eased it under the flap, flicked the blade and the bag opened flat. Something moved inside and he bent closer to warily peer in.
One of the fat trout that had been cooking in the smoke flopped out and quivered on the ground, its milky white eye stared blindly up. Its tail flipped up, once, twice. Kerry really jerked back this time.
"This isn't happening!" He rapped his head with a knuckle, realised he wasn't dreaming and looked, pale-faced at the others. "It's dead. How can it be…?"
Corriwen squawked and her hand opened. The nut dropped, rolled between the stones around the fire and for a second everybody's attention was away from the impossibly flopping fish. The nutshell cracked open and a pair of black legs poked through as a big black spider scraped its way out. Its legs pawed the air and two glittering fangs raised up, little drips of poison forming at their tips. It moved in a blur of legs and ran up Corriwen's ankle, red eyes glittering.
Without a pause Kerry swung his blade and flicked the spider off into the fire where it stumbled around sizzling until it crumpled into a smoking ball.
"Something's wrong here," Kerry said shakily. The dead trout flipped again, its mouth opening and snapping shut. Two rows of jagged piranha-like teeth gnashed together with every snap; teeth that had not been there when Kerry hauled them from the stream.
The fish convulsed again, landing near Kerry's foot and the teeth would have taken a chunk out of him if he hadn't kicked it away fast. Corriwen snatched up a hot stone and clobbered it flat before it could move again.
Way beyond the firelight, in the deep gloom of the trees, a low moan, like an animal in pain, came through the darkness, breaking into stuttering gasps as it echoed from tree to tree.
….mischief stalks the bleak of night… Jack thought the Book had got that dead right.
He got to his feet and then Corriwen was at his side. Kerry joined them so they stood back to back, shoulder to shoulder, weapons ready.
"This is as bad as being in the open," Kerry whispered. Beyond the firelight, the low moan shivered through the forest and under that, even deeper still, a hungry grunting sound of some beast on the hunt.
One of the bulrush torches guttered and sent a trail of smoke twirling up. It writhed and then condensed slowly until they could make out what seemed to be a gargoyle face. A long tendril oozed out, became a thin hand that snatched at Corriwen's neck. Jack pulled her back before it could touch her. The ghastly face stretched into an evil grin before the breeze wafted it away.
"Was that real?" Corriwen asked, shuddering.
"I don't know," Jack whispered.
"That freakin' fish was real," Kerry said. "Nearly had my foot off. It was like a shark."
In the shadows, Jack thought he could detect movement and the heartstone began to quiver. Kerry felt him tense.
"I really don't think we should stay here," he whispered.
"It might be worse out there," Corriwen said.
"No," Jack said clearly. "I can see things in the shadows. I don't know what they are, but I've got a bad feeling." His sword was drawn, the Scatha's blade, razor sharp and deadly, but somehow he thought even this sword might be useless against the things that moved in the night. "The heartstone's beating like a drum."
A dozen yards away, one of the shadows uncoiled in a fast, loping movement. Two pale eyes opened in the gloom, wide spaced and sickly yellow and instantly Jack had a flashback of the memory the Sky Lady had unlocked in his mind - shadow beasts with those same haunting eyes had pursued them through the dark towards the stone pillars. He'd only been a baby then, but the memory was clear and powerful.
Something moved out there. Another pair of eyes opened, headlights in the dark. Jack glimpsed a flash of what might have been teeth. The creature leapt over dead branches towards them, lithe as a cat, growling in whatever it had for a throat.
Jack tried to tell himself he must be imagining this all of this, but the heartstone was vibrating fast on his chest and he knew they had to run, and run fast.
Sword out, he pulled Corriwen close.
"I think they'll try to surround us," he said. He and Kerry still wore the boots Rune the Cluricaun had made for them in Eirinn, boots that lent them the speed they needed. But Corriwen didn't have that benefit. She'd been a captive when they met Rune.
"Get ready to run." He said, sensing her nod in agreement.
"Take Corrie's arm," he told Kerry. "We need speed."
Something moved in a slither of black It was so close that Jack caught a gagging whiff of rotten meat. Kerry snatched up one of the bulrush torches and jammed it into the embers of their fire. It flared in a whoosh of flame and blazed a fiery arc as he swung it around. The shadows drew back. Feral eyes snapped shut.
"Now!" Jack cried, grabbing Corriwen's wrist. They raced out of the clearing, heading back in the direction they had come.
They had barely run twenty paces when Jack realised something was wrong. They weren't going fast enough.
"The boots don't work here," he gasped.
"My feet do!" Kerry bawled back at him. "Just run!"
They sprinted, dodging looming trunks, aware all the time of the pursuit behind them, until they burst out of the trees and raced down the hill. They used the downslope to give them momentum, feet thudding, hearts pounding, gaining distance on the moving shadows. Some distance ahead, under the red light of the strange moon, Jack could just make out a cluster of buildings. Without a pause, he veered towards it. Kerry and Corriwen must have seen it too, because they followed right on his heels.
The chance of shelter gave them that added impetus they needed and in mere seconds the houses loomed ahead of them. There must be people here, Jack thought. They'll help us.
Twenty yards away from the nearest house, Kerry crashed through an unseen barrier and fell headlong. Jack grabbed him by the hood, pulled him to his feet and they dived between two cottages and along a narrow, cobbled street.
Behind them, Jack could hear the scrabbling of nails or claws on the cobbles. He imagined a long, sinuous arm stretch out to grab and rip, but he pushed that thought away.
They scooted up the street, searching for somewhere to hide, but every door, every shutter was closed tight. There were no lights on anywhere, no sign of life at all.
Jack swung round a bend, dodged up a narrower alley. He saw a barn-like structure and made straight for its door. With luck, it crashed open. As soon as Kerry was through, he turned and slammed the door shut. Corriwen groped for the cross-bar latch and wedged it home. Just as it clocked into the wooden slot, something hit the door hard enough to send splinters flying. They stood together, hardly daring to breathe while the thing scratched and growled in the darkness outside. After what seemed an age, they heard it move away.
Jack let out a deep breath.
"I think it's gone."
Somewhere in the distance a baby cried. A child's wail came ringing through the darkness. A man's angry voice silenced it and then all went quiet.
"I sure don't want to meet those things again," Kerry said. "I'm staying awake for sure."
And he was still awake in the morning when the villagers came and seized them.