I woke out of an uneasy sleep knowing at once that something was wrong. I lifted my head cautiously out of the straw. Everything was quiet and dark. It was the middle of the night and the waxing moon only faintly lit things so I could see, to one side, the soundly sleeping shapes of Max and Tomi, the little boy huddled up close to the young man. To the other, Olga was not lying asleep but had her back to me, she was over by our things and . . .

I realised it wasn’t Olga at all! The shape and size were all wrong. Without even stopping to think I crept quietly to where the intruder was rummaging through our things. He was so intent on what he was doing that he didn’t notice me until I was nearly upon him; then with a strangled gasp, he leapt forwards with surprising speed, making a dive for the ladder that led up to the hayloft. He scrambled down with me in hot pursuit and before he even managed to get halfway across the floor below, I had knocked him to the ground.

The wizened old man with the sly blue eyes looked up at me fearfully. I’d disliked him yesterday on sight; this certainly didn’t improve that impression.

‘I can explain,’ he quavered.

‘You’d better. What have you done to Olga – to my friend?’

‘Nothing, I swear it,’ he stammered. ‘I saw the girl go a little while ago.’

‘Go? Go where?’

‘Into the forest,’ he said, promptly.

I remembered the green glow of longing in Olga’s eyes, as she had finished sucking on the last of the roast rabbit, and knew at once why she’d gone into the forest in the middle of the night. The rabbit had been delicious but not quite enough for four people, especially not for a werewolf who could hunt.

‘That doesn’t explain what you were doing rattling around in our things.’

‘I was just looking,’ he said, sulkily.

‘What were you looking for?’

He shot me a sly glance. ‘Nothing.’

‘Give me what you took.’

‘I took nothing,’ he protested.

But I slipped a hand into the inner pocket of his greasy coat and took out first the compass, and then something small, hard and shiny.

‘My locket!’ I said, without stopping to think. The compass had been in the knapsack he’d been rifling through, but not the locket. That had been in my jacket pocket. He must have taken it before he’d even started going through the bag. I saw the amusement in his eyes. Yesterday, he hadn’t seen through my boy-disguise; but now he knew I was a girl. My skin crawled at the thought of those hands on me. I wanted to hit him; but stopped myself in time. Instead, I said, menacingly, ‘Why did you take these?’

‘To sell, of course. Why do you think?’

His voice had a mocking edge now and it riled me.

‘You miserable thief,’ I said, furiously, losing my temper now, and shaking him like a rat. ‘So help me God I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget.’

I saw the fear was back in his eyes. ‘Please,’ he said, ‘please, Miss.’ The mocking tone was quite gone from his voice. ‘I am sorry, I am very sorry. I am poor, I just –’

‘We gave you all our money already, you disgusting object,’ I hissed. ‘We are homeless strangers – guests in your village. I was always told that the people of the forest were so hospitable. And yet look at you – look at this place! What is wrong with you people?’

He laughed bitterly. ‘What is wrong with you people?’ he mimicked. ‘Why, my lady, would you ask the dead that question, too?’

I released my hold on him. ‘What?’

‘We are dead,’ he said and sat up, painfully. He turned his pale gaze on me. It was no longer sly, but bleak. ‘Or we may as well be. Our villages are emptying, our women don’t bear children, our crops fail, our animals don’t thrive and our streams are drying up. Some say we are cursed.’

I remembered how the rabbit-man had tried to tell us not to come here.

‘Cursed? Why?’ I whispered.

He shrugged. ‘Some say the heart of the forest is dying,’ he said. ‘Nobody knows why.’ He shot one of those ugly glances at me. ‘But you’re from the city – from Ashberg – why do you care?’

‘My mother was from the forest,’ I said. ‘From Stromsa.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Was? She is dead?’

I nodded, sadly.

‘What was her name?’

‘Jana,’ I said. ‘Jana Lubosdera.’ I watched him carefully to see if he knew my mother’s secret, but all I saw was a flash of recognition of the name, nothing more.

‘You are old Lubos’ granddaughter?’ he said.

‘Yes. I never met him or my grandmother. You – you know them?’

‘Knew them,’ he corrected. ‘They’re both long dead. Well, well, I heard old Lubos’ daughter married a rich man from Ashberg.’

‘She did.’

‘They didn’t like the match, but she wouldn’t be told. Well, well! What are you doing, rich man’s daughter, dressed in rags and sleeping in a barn?’ he said, the mocking tone back in his voice, but this time it only made me sad.

I said, gently, ‘It’s a long story and I don’t want to tell it to you.’

‘Oh, like that, is it? I think I can guess. Your mother’s dead, your pa’s remarried and the new wife doesn’t like you. Am I right?’

I said nothing but he must have got his answer from my face, for he said, ‘I see. And now you have come back here to try and see if there’s a welcome for you in Stromsa. Well, I’m sorry, my girl, but you’ll be disappointed.’

I looked at his wizened face, curdled with misfortune, bitterness and malice, and marvelled at how the face of the moon-sister, all ravaged by illness and most likely more tragedy than he had ever known, could nevertheless be filled with a sweetness of spirit, a beauty of soul that he could not come close to. He’d said he might as well be dead, but the dead I knew – my mother and the moon-sister – were far more alive than he was. And suddenly, despite everything, I was filled with a queasy pity for him. On an impulse, I held out the compass to him. ‘Take it.’

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

‘Take it,’ I repeated. ‘It’s the only thing of value we have, take it and go. Leave us in peace.’

‘But . . . why?’

‘Because you need it more than we do, for you have lost your way,’ I said, quietly, and shoving it into his unresisting hand, I turned on my heel and headed back to the ladder.

Before I could reach it, he came after me and said, wonderingly, ‘Who – who are you?’

‘I told you.’

‘What do you want?’

‘Nothing. Just for you to go away.’

He looked disturbed. ‘But I cannot just . . . you must want payment for the compass.’

‘You were ready to steal it,’ I said. ‘Why the scruple now?’

‘This is different.’

I was going to tell him to begone when a thought came into my head. I turned. ‘Very well, there is something you can give me in return.’

He looked sideways at me. ‘I can’t give you too much for it. It’s not the newest of compasses, and see, there’s a nick here where it –’

‘Spare me,’ I snapped. ‘I’m not interested in bargaining. I want you to tell me how to get to Dremda.’

He nearly dropped the compass. ‘What?’

‘Simple question, I would have thought.’

‘Why do you want to go to –’

‘It’s my business,’ I said crisply.

‘Dremda is about a day’s walk from here.’

‘Is it on the way to the border?’

‘No, the Dremda track does branch out from that road but –’

‘Is there a signpost?’

He laughed. ‘A signpost! Where do you think you are – Ashberg? Of course there’s none.’

‘How will I know it, then?’

‘I heard that there used to be two silver birches at the entrance to the track. They’re probably dead by now though.’

‘How far is the turning?’

‘Not for quite a long way. If you leave first thing, you won’t reach the Dremda track before evening, I’d say. But I warn you, it will take you a long way out of your way, for it is a dead end. You’d have to go back on your tracks to get back to the border road. It would delay you at least a day, maybe more, if –’

‘If what?’

‘Nobody’s been there in a long, long while,’ he said. ‘The track is very overgrown so it’s easy to get lost. And there’ll be wild beasts, I’ll be bound.’ His eyes glinted. ‘I don’t know what myths you learned at your mother’s knee, but there’s nothing left there. Nothing. It’s dead, like everything else. If I were you, I wouldn’t bother.’

‘But you’re not me,’ I said, tartly. ‘So thank you, but I don’t need your advice. Oh, and by the way, you know my friend Olga – the one you saw going into the forest?’

He shrugged. ‘Yes. So what?’

‘She was hunting,’ I said.

He laughed. ‘She won’t have any luck. There’s no game any more.’

‘Maybe not for a human,’ I said calmly.

‘What?’

‘She’s a werewolf.’

His face lost all colour. He didn’t protest their existence as a city person might have done. He was from the forest lands, the heart of wolf country, where the werewolf memory was very close, and he knew at once I was telling the truth.

‘So if you don’t want me to tell her how I found you sneaking around,’ I went on, ‘if you don’t want me to tell her how you came by that compass, you will not breathe a word of what I have asked you to anyone. This is what you will do: you will tell my friends you found out about my mother coming from the forest land and that you then felt bad about taking our money and that you decided to give it all back to us, plus some food for the journey tomorrow. And that I was so touched by this I gave you the compass in return.’

He looked at me. His chin wobbled. ‘You are the Devil,’ he said, between bloodless lips.

I smiled thinly. ‘Do you agree? Or do you not?’

‘Very well,’ he said, between gritted teeth. ‘I agree.’

‘Go and get it now,’ I said. ‘The money and the food. I will say you came to me tonight and offered it.’

He shot me a hard look, but nodded. He scurried off and was back very quickly with the coins and a greasy parcel of stale bread and dried meat. I could have told him it wasn’t good enough, but I was feeling oppressed by the whole thing now, so I just took it all without comment, and said, ‘Now go away and leave us alone. If you keep your promise, no harm will come to you.’

He gave me a glance in which fear and hatred mingled. He took a step back, then another. ‘I want you all – I want you all to be gone first thing tomorrow morning. And never come back,’ he added, over his shoulder, as he scurried away.

‘You will not see us for dust, dear sir,’ I called after him, and clambered back up to the hayloft where Max and Tomi were still sleeping soundly. I felt a strange mixture of elation and sadness. Yes, I’d seen off the old thief, and ensured at least some supplies for the next day; but his revelations had disturbed me deeply.

No sooner was I settled again in the hay when I heard Olga’s soft footfalls below. I quickly closed my eyes and breathed softly, pretending to sleep. She was rummaging about for a while longer before silence descended again and I heard her soft, sleeping breath. I lay awake for a long time, thinking over things and by the time I finally fell asleep, not long before dawn, I had made my decision.