Mary, Edgar and Mr Blood sat in the small boat. A boatman was rowing them out to an island.
Mary could see the island in the distance. It looked like a scary, grey shadow in the white mist.
The Sheriff of the island had asked Mr Blood for help. He said there was a werewolf on the island. Mr Blood was a famous werewolf hunter.
Mary was excited. This is just the sort of place to find a werewolf, she thought.
Edgar was being sick over the side of the boat.
“Cheer up, Edgar,” Mary said. “We’re nearly there. Then the hunt for the werewolf begins!”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” groaned Edgar.
Mr Blood smiled at Edgar and Mary. He was cleaning his crossbow.
The boatman did not speak. He had said nothing all day.
“I have hunted many werewolves,” said Mr Blood. “They are quite easy to kill. They are fast and fierce. But silver kills them at once.”
He wiped down his silver-tipped arrows.
“You must be joking,” said Edgar. “Werewolves are half human and half wolf. They are evil. They eat people alive. Maybe your silver arrows will kill them. But it won’t be easy!”
“The thing about werewolves,” said the boatman, “is that they can’t swim.”
Mr Blood, Mary and Edgar all turned and looked at him.
“I know that,” said Mr Blood. “How do you know that?”
But the boatman didn’t answer.
“Thank goodness!” said Edgar. “We’re here.”
They had reached a small harbour.
The boatman would not row right up to the beach. “You get out here,” he said. “I will not go closer.”
Edgar looked at the sandy beach. He gave a gasp of horror.
The beach was covered with bones.
