The moorland where Sorrel and Little Cloud had spent the night seemed far less scary in the daytime. The swirling mist that had been present the previous day had now vanished and left Sorrel in a far brighter mood.

She busied herself with the task of breaking up bits of gorse bush for the fire while Cloud sought out something for them to eat from the horse's saddlebag. Once done, she drew her sword and practised some swings, watching the keen blade glint in the sun. She was so engrossed that she almost missed when the horse started to dance about and Little Cloud froze into one of his trance like states.

She stopped what she was doing and absently brushed bits of twig from her clothes. Cloud stood stock still with his eyes squeezed shut and she could see the concentration on his face.

"What is it?" she asked. She couldn't see any signs of danger across the moor.

He put a finger to his lips and shushed her before turning to face back the way they had come. He breathed deeply. "I'm not sure," he said, still with his eyes shut. "I can feel someone near us... someone I've felt before."

Sorrel's first instinct was to think of the raven and she looked up into the sky. That wasn't it. There was still no sight of the bird. She gripped her sword tight as the horse whinnied. It reared up, eyes wide in fear, and seemed about to bolt but she lunged forwards and snatched the reins. She turned back to Cloud again urgently when he took a quick gasp of breath.

Little Cloud was lost in a world of his own. The vision took a hold of him and he could only vaguely hear Sorrel call his name. In that world of his everything was darker, slower but somehow more real than the real world. He could hear footsteps, heavy, and familiar. He had a flashback to the time when he and Sorrel were in Oaken Wood fleeing from the Lamya man, then another one of Sorrel's tree branch crashing with the man's sword, the splinters spiralled through the air in slow motion. He began to shake. Suddenly, he knew who was on the moor with them and had been watching them since last night.

Sorrel saw Cloud open his eyes and she peered into his concerned face. A single bead of sweat rolled down his brow and dripped heavily to the ground. "Sorrel," he said, "get up on the horse. Do it."

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She did as she was told, waiting for him to join her. The horse started to fidget again and turned this way and that as if some unseen evil force was creeping up on them.

"Cloud, what's going on?" she asked, struggling to control the horse, the reins burning the skin on her fingers.

Cloud looked over his shoulder across the moor. "He's not dead," he said. "I don't know how, but the Lamya man's not dead."

Sorrel gripped her sword, the one she had taken from the Lamya. "What d'you mean?" she asked urgently. "The Lamya who was after us?"

"Yes!" Cloud cried, his voice rising. "The same one I felt before. He's not dead so let's get out of here! Run, run!"

Little Cloud slapped the horse hard on the rump. The horse, not expecting such a blow, reared up, sending both of them falling to the ground before its nerve left completely and it charged off without them.

Pain shocked through her hip but Sorrel forced herself to her feet and pulled Cloud up off the ground. "You probably shouldn't have done that," she whispered, holding her sword in front of her. "Now we have no horse, injured or otherwise."

Cloud gulped and pointed a shaking hand out towards a gargantuan figure that was slowly approaching them. "It's him," he said.

Sorrel gulped too. The Lamya was alive.

#

Dried blood had caked itself to the side of Zev's face and he headed towards the two figures before him, dragging his feet. A pain coursed down the right side of his body. He half remembered who the people were and his head throbbed constantly. All he knew was that the girl before him had taken his sword and his horse. His horse had fled, just like those deer had done when he came across them before, but he wasn't about to lose his sword.

He grunted and forced himself into a laboured trot.

#

"He's heading right for us, Sorrel!" Cloud cried, pulling her by the arm. "Hadn't we better run now? Sorrel? Sorrel!"

As the Lamya man broke into a run, Sorrel lifted her sword aloft and ran towards him, yelling. Her eyes were alight and fire burned in her belly. How dare this man worry them!

She screamed her anger. "You leave us alone! Yaaaaaaaaa!" She reached the Lamya and swung her sword powerfully at him even though he was twice her size.

The Lamya grinned and grabbed the blade. He stared into her disbelieving eyes as the sword edge cut into his hands.

She tugged at the sword, desperately trying to free it from his phenomenal hold. A ball of fear deep in her stomach suddenly replaced her anger. "No! Let go!"

You are not invincible.

"Don't let go, Sorrel!" Cloud yelled. "You let go and it's all over!"

She tugged at the sword again and again. She twisted it and turned it and even tried to push it farther into the Lamya's hands. But all to no avail.

The man stood firm and laughed. He could probably snap the blade in half if he wished. He could probably snap her in half. Sorrel pulled again and sobbed, though this time she felt no help was coming.