Quinn laughed as Sebastian instantly sat down to take off his long boots and stockings, rolling his leather leggings to above the knee. Elanor took off her slippers and kilted up her silken skirt, and Sebastian helped her through the icy water to the boat.
‘I thought the food would persuade you,’ Quinn said. She saw a small locker to one side and opened it. ‘Look, here’s another lantern,’ Quinn said. ‘We won’t be in the dark after all.’
She took Tom’s lantern, which had almost spluttered out, and managed to light the fresh lantern with a long taper she found in the cupboard. Light flared up, showing for an instant just how immense the cavern was. Then it settled down, filling the boat with a warm glow. Tom refilled his lantern and hung it at the back of the boat, as the other two clambered in and made themselves comfortable.
Then Tom whistled Fergus.
The wolfhound ran back and forth on the shore, whining, then evidently decided he must risk the lake. He galloped towards the boat, sending up great sprays of water, then leapt in. The boat rocked wildly as he landed.
‘Fergus!’ Quinn moaned. ‘Must you?’
The dog grinned happily, then shook himself violently. Water flicked all over the four children. They all groaned and hid their faces, till Fergus at last settled down at their feet.
‘Is there any smell worse than wet dog?’ Sebastian said, leaning as far away from Fergus as he could get.
‘Yes. Wet boy,’ Quinn replied at once, holding her nose and leaning away from Sebastian. He grimaced at her and she laughed.
‘How about some food?’ Tom said. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.’
They investigated the knapsacks, and found bread, cold sausage, pork pies, apples and currant buns. All four fell upon the food with gusto. It had been a long and exhausting night. Fergus ate a whole pie and five sausages by himself, then begged titbits from each in turn.
Once they had eaten their fill, they put the remains of the feast back in the knapsacks.
‘We’d better get moving,’ Quinn said, forcing herself to get up from her warm and comfortable position. She undid the rope, and used an oar to push the boat away from the shore.
Sebastian sat up. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Seeing where the boat takes us, of course.’
The boat spun out, and was quickly caught by a current.
Sebastian gripped the sides of the boat as it gathered speed. ‘I’m not sure that was a good idea,’ he said. ‘We don’t know what lies ahead!’
Quinn smiled. ‘Isn’t that half the fun of it? Anyway, Arwen must use this boat herself, so we know it can’t go anywhere too dangerous.’
‘But she probably uses magic to keep it under control,’ Sebastian retorted.
The boat was now racing down a narrow river. The walls of the cavern loomed close on either side, the sharp stone icicles hanging right above the children’s heads.
‘Look out!’ Quinn yelled. ‘Duck!’
Tom ducked, just avoiding smashing his head on a rock.
‘We’re going too fast,’ Elanor cried. ‘Can’t we slow down?’
A great pillar of rock was right in their way.
‘Lie low!’ Sebastian ordered. He seized an oar, and pushed the boat away from the pillar. The boat swerved and spun, and banged against the far wall. Fergus whimpered, pressing against Tom’s leg. Tom pushed him away. He had seized the other oar and, pushing with all his strength, managed to shove the boat away from the wall. It steadied, speeding along once more.
‘There’s a curve ahead,’ Quinn said.
Together the two boys worked their oars. They surged round the corner, and saw before them a heavy iron grate, with water gleaming faintly beyond.
‘We’re going to crash!’ Elanor shouted, crouching down in the bottom of the boat, arms over her head. Fergus whined, pressing himself against her, and she flung an arm around him, protectively.
Desperately, the two boys heaved on the oars, trying to slow the boat’s progress. But nothing would work. The boat was speeding straight for the grate. A collision was seconds away.
Look up, little maid, the mysterious old voice said. There are times when it is wise to wait, and times when thou must seize the moment by the tail.
The tail? Quinn looked up and saw a rope dangling above her. It ran through a pulley to the grate. She stood up, reaching for it.
‘What are you doing?’ the boys called. ‘We’re about to crash! Get down!’
Swaying precariously, Quinn ignored them. She grasped the rope and yanked it hard. With a rusty roar, the iron grate swung up and out of the way, and the boat shot out into the expanse of water. Quinn was knocked off-balance and fell back into the boat, her landing softened by the cushions and blankets. The grate swung down and closed with a shudder behind them.
The boat spun and slowed and eventually came to a stop against a stone wall. Tom caught hold of an iron ring, to stop the boat from sliding away again.
‘How did you know to do that, Quinn?’ Sebastian wanted to know.
‘I just … I just saw the end of the rope approaching and thought maybe it would lift the grate,’ Quinn lied. She was too exhausted, and too puzzled by the mysterious voice in her head, to even try and explain.
It was almost dawn. The water was now a pale grey under the swirling mist, the sky above even paler. Quinn saw a low dark archway to either side, and, beyond, the black silhouette of trees and hills and the pointed roofs of houses. She realised they had come out under the bridge. To the left was the harbour with the town of Wolfhaven crouched on its shores. To the right the river wound its way through meadows and forest, heading north-east. The tide was going out, which meant the boat was being dragged towards the harbour.
Quickly Tom tied the boat up to the ring in the stone wall, then blew out the lanterns. ‘We don’t know if the town has been taken over by the invaders,’ he explained. ‘Until we find out, we don’t want anyone to see us. All the river traffic would go under the central arch, so we’re completely hidden here.’
‘What shall we do?’ Elanor asked. Her face was white in the dim dawn light, her hazel eyes enormous.
‘Let’s see what’s happening in the town,’ Quinn said, taking a telescope from the cupboard. She looked through its eye-piece at the town. It was hard to see much, the mist was so thick, but every now and again it swirled away, giving her a glimpse of the streets.
Everything was strangely peaceful. She saw a woman on her knees scrubbing her front steps. A milkmaid led her cow from door to door, a yoke with two pails set upon her shoulders. A baker was setting out fresh rolls in his window.
‘It’s like nothing has happened,’ she said, baffled. Sebastian tried to seize the telescope from her, but she shoved him away. ‘Wait!’
She trained the telescope on the castle, sweeping it along the battlements. Suddenly she stiffened. A tall black form in a helmet with boar tusks stood on the castle ramparts. He was issuing orders with a forceful fist. The skeletal shapes of bog-men scuttled away, thousands of them.
‘The tusked knight,’ she whispered. ‘I think he’s looking for us.’
‘We need to get away,’ Tom said. ‘Hide out in the forest.’
‘Hide?’ Sebastian said scornfully. ‘We should be rousing the town, and gathering an army.’
‘No, it’s smart,’ Tom replied. ‘If we try to rescue anyone now, we’ll only get caught ourselves. No-one in the town can stand against that tusked knight and his bog-men. We’ll only get them and ourselves killed. No, we need to get help first.’
‘Tom’s right,’ Elanor said. ‘What can we do, four of us alone?’
Fergus gave a little whuff and she rubbed his ears. ‘I’m sorry, Sir Fergus. Four children and one brave dog.’
‘We should go now, while there’s still mist to hide us,’ said Tom. ‘It might burn off as the sun comes up and then we’d be seen.’
‘The tide’s against us,’ Quinn said. ‘We’ll have to row.’
Everyone groaned. They were all so tired, no-one really wanted to spend the next few hours rowing against the tide.
‘We mustn’t be caught,’ Elanor said. ‘If we are taken prisoner too, then who shall rescue my father and his people?’
‘We’ll just have to bend our backs to it,’ Sebastian answered, flexing his arm muscles.
‘You’d best be quiet,’ Tom said. ‘If that’s possible.’
Sebastian reddened and seized one oar. ‘I’ll go first!’
‘No, I will!’ Tom seized the other.
‘You’re both as noisy as cats in a fight,’ Quinn said. ‘I’ll row!’
She took the oars and began to manoeuvre the boat out onto the misty river. Slowly, they glided away from the bridge.
A shout rang out above them. Two knights had been standing guard on the bridge. They must have seen the shape of the boat through the mist. ‘Ahoy! Over here!’ one shouted.
‘Look, they wear my father’s wolf insignia!’ Elanor cried in excitement. ‘They can help us!’ She stood up and waved at them.
The two knights suddenly lifted their bows and aimed at the boat. ‘Watch out!’ shrieked Quinn. One arrow whizzed so close to Elanor’s face, it raised a thin red welt along her cheek. She stumbled back, her hand to her face.
‘But … they’re my father’s men …’
‘Must be the invaders in disguise,’ Tom said, as the sound of galloping hooves disturbed the mist. ‘Everybody down!’
The knights began chasing them along the harbour’s edge, little more than dark, racing shapes in the fog.
‘Quick, let’s put up the sail,’ Quinn cried. Then, when everyone else looked around, worried and confused, she said, ‘Here, Tom, take the oars and row, while I do it. We need to get away!’
Quinn lifted the mast up from where it lay in the bottom of the boat, and set it in its socket. Sebastian held it steady for her while she secured it with pins, and then together they unfurled the brown sail. Tom, meanwhile, had been gallantly rowing while Elanor kept an eye on the riders, who were drawing closer to them with each stride. The first rider released the reins as he lifted high a bow and arrow. The arrow had been set alight. ‘Fire!’ cried Elanor, as it soared toward them, leaving a stinking trail of smoke and ashes.
A wind sprang out of nowhere, and the sail bellied out. The boat sprang forward, and the arrow fell into their wake, sizzling as it hit the water. The rider aimed another fiery arrow, but it was too late. With the wind behind them, the boat surged ahead, and the galloping riders were left far behind.
The children shouted with relief and Sebastian pumped his fist into the air.
‘Goodbye,’ Tom called. ‘Hope to never see you again.’
‘Thank you, Owl-Eyes,’ Quinn said, and patted the side of the boat as if it was a dog or a horse.
‘Thank you,’ Elanor said, her eyes shining. ‘Thank you, all of you.’
The boat sailed on into the mist. The rocking motion lulled the exhausted children. An hour passed, and then another, and still the boat sailed on up the river. One by one, the children laid down their heads on their arms. ‘I’m so tired,’ Elanor murmured.
‘Me too,’ Tom said, huddling the grey cloak close about him. ‘But we should push on. We’re still too close to the castle.’
But then Quinn yawned, and they all yawned with her. Even Fergus, showing a lolling pink tongue and sharp pointed teeth.
‘Need … to … rest,’ Quinn said. She was so tired her whole body ached. She yawned again, so widely her jaw made a cracking sound, and drew her shawl closer about her.
‘Maybe we can stop … just for a little while,’ Tom replied. He steered the boat towards the shore and tied it to a low-hanging branch.
‘One of us should stand guard,’ Sebastian said, lifting his head from his arm.
‘Fergus will,’ Tom said. Fergus’s ears pricked up. ‘Fergus, guard,’ Tom added.
‘Good dog,’ Elanor murmured.
The wolfhound’s tail thumped in response.
‘All right then. Just for a minute or two.’ Sebastian lay down again, his arm flung across his eyes.
The only sound was the lap, lap, lap of the river against the boat’s wooden sides. Fergus yawned again and stretched out across Tom’s feet. His ears slowly sunk. He shut his eyes and began to snore.
Nobody heard him. They were all fast asleep.