Oli stood to one side as the medicine man and the strange, cat-like creature stared at each other. The underground starlight shone from above them and the grey-white floor beneath them reflected it. They looked like two visitors from strange worlds suspended in a dream. The hoarder, in real life, was far less frightening than anything from the stories. On its hind legs it stood about three feet tall and its sleek, black body rose and fell gently as it breathed. It looked like an animal, but carried itself like a person.

  “It’s pointing at you!” said Oli, nervous and excited, yet also unafraid. Was this one of the animals that Ingo boasted of spying on and pilfering from? This little creature that looked like an overgrown kitten with round eyes?

  Kastor was similarly unafraid. He held out his hand and waited. Slowly, long fingers unfurled from the paw and stretched until the tips rested on Kastor’s open palm. Kastor shivered with a joy so palpable that Oli, too, felt his skin prickle. But the creature did want to hold his hand. It reached forward to Kastor's waist, where the metal tube poked out of his pocket. The hoarder snatched the object and scuttled back two paces.

  “Who are you?” Kastor asked, unconcerned about the loss. “Is that yours?" He waved his hand at the stars around them. "Did you draw all this?"

  The creature made a noise like steam issuing from a kettle, followed by a succession of grunts and clicks.

  “What? Can’t you speak?”

  Kastor's face fell in dismay at the inarticulate sounds, then he was animated once more.

  “You can write though!” he exclaimed and poked one of their symbols into the powdery ground.

  The round eyes of the creature opened yet wider and it jumped up and hissed and clicked again. Movement caught the edge of Oli's vision and he looked around. More of the creatures, some even smaller, slunk into the room. The dark outlines of their bodies moved closer in a gaggle. They clicked and purred as they walked and soon several of them surrounded the ground where Kastor had drawn his words. One of them pointed at Kastor and jumped up and down.

  “There’s a lot of them now, Kass," said Oli, nervously. "Do you think we should leave? Ingo never stayed and talked to them."

  Kastor ignored him. He hunched over his writing and seemed to regard the growing crowd as an audience. They edged forward and back in turns, peering at the symbols he had scrawled and chittering together. None were more than half his size, but their numbers and the noise they made caused Oli to inch away.

  “Kass, I want to go back. I don't know the way. Come on, Kass.”

  A long, low howl reverberated from the distance through the tunnels. The huddle of creatures froze for a moment as though in fear, then they clicked and jumped excitedly. That was the sound that Oli recognised. That was the sound of hoarders.

  “Kass! Come on! Which way?”

  “They’re not dangerous, Oli! Can’t you see? Look, they’re reading it! I'm trying to say that my home is in the mountains, too.”

  Kass was almost laughing. Then the howl came again, closer, and even his ecstatic joy faltered. It was a howl that could carry across mountaintops, through dense forest and into the ears of frightened children huddled in roundhouses miles away. From nearby, it felt as though it surrounded Oli and lifted him up. He jumped backwards and looked round for their entrance, but a group of the little creatures now huddled before it pointing and jumping. They weren't pointing at Oli and Kastor, though. They were pointing inside it.

  When Oli looked back a huge, dark shape emerged from between the smaller bodies now gathered against the far side. At first, Oli thought it must be an even greater number of new arrivals. Then he realised it was only one. A little light reflected from the shining fur but there were rougher patches, too. It looked as though it had walked through fire and parts of its skin had burned away. Even on all fours, its head was almost at the same level as his. It surveyed the chamber and saw them. It moved like water rushing over rocks in the blackness of a cloudy night. Oli thought it would be upon him before he could even lift his feet, but the beast stopped short to push the smaller animals behind its legs, hissing and growling at them. Mewling, they scurried back. Oli realised why these others were so small, and why they had posed no threat. They were its children.

  Reckless and eager even now, Kastor inched forward and reached out. Oli could see that he meant to point at one of his drawings, but the hoarder opened its mouth and bared a line of pointed teeth. It raised one foot (or was it a hand?) and in a flash long, white claws appeared, like daggers that had been unsheathed.

  Kastor paused. "It's ok. It's ok," he whispered. "We're only visiting." He backed a step away. "I was only talking."

  The huge creature relaxed it's jaw, but the claws of its hand remained drawn. It lowered its gaze for a moment to the floor. Oli watched intently. Can their faces be read like the faces of people? The hoarder's was covered mostly in fur, with some skin showing around the cheeks. The eyes were large and round. Oli thought he saw a moment of curiosity, perhaps even surprise at what it read. The moment was abruptly shattered.

  "Down here, there's light coming from the end!"

  A voice echoed down to them from the darkness of the very same tunnel that he and Kastor had used. Clanging and thumping sounds accompanied the voice.

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  The hoarder growled and its eyes flashed. In a movement almost too fast to see, its claws flicked back and forth. Kastor gasped and staggered. With a sound like raindrops pattering on dust, dark patches appeared on the ground.

  Oli grabbed his elbow and tried to pull him away. Kastor wrenched his arm free, while his other hand pressed against his side.

  "Noooo!" he yelled. "No! They can't come here! They can't have this place!"

  In spite of the attack from the beast, which now pounced this way and that, gathering the smaller creatures in its jaws, Kastor stood with his back to the animal and faced the direction from which the noise had come. Oli turned and ran. If Kastor wanted to die down here, he could not stop him.

  He did not even know where he was going. He just looked for another patch of darkness against the stars and charged through it. As he did so, he heard the howl of the hoarder again and Kastor shouting his own guttural roar. Who is going to fight who in there?

  The corridor he had chosen had no illumination and he slipped and fell, each time righting himself and running again. Sometimes he heard the large hoarder's howl echo behind him and sometimes he thought he heard other noises ahead. The light faded and he walked in pitch darkness. It surrounded him. It pushed against him on all sides. Oli hated feeling trapped. Against all his better instincts, he heard himself cry out:

  "Kastor! Where are you! Joturn! Can you hear me?" His words echoed back to him and he winced as heard them.

  I should go forwards. I should keep going until the tunnel changes. But forwards led only deeper into the narrowing darkness. Should he turn back and try to creep along the path he had come by, and hope the conflict in the chamber was over? As Oli turned one way and then the other, he saw something. Here, where he could not even see his own hands before his eyes, he saw two red points of light.

  Are you coming for me now in the darkness, where I can't defend myself? He asked in his mind. The red points drifted closer. They burned with a narrow intensity and he thought he could feel a little warmth. In the scant illumination they provided, he just about made out the wings and talons. What does it want?

  Follow me.

  The words appeared in his mind as though he had thought them, but Oli knew they were not his.

  Where will you take me?

  The eyes approached and passed him. He recoiled as something brushed his face, but as it did so he shared a moment of intimacy with the demon's thoughts. There was a desperate hope. It was as lost and confused as the man it followed, but it held on to one nameless hope like a man on a sinking boat awaiting a rope.

  “You never were dangerous, were you?" said Oli out loud. The eyes appeared as the creature turned to face him, then disappeared again. Oli followed. The demon stopped and turned every few yards. They walked for what felt like an age. It showed him where to turn when the tunnel split in two and it led him, step by step, to a pinpoint of light in the distance.

  Oli saw the light and scrambled, bashing his head and slipping and falling but barely even feeling the impact. An urgent thirst for fresh air and daylight drove him. The pinpoint grew and so did the tunnel until finally it opened into a bright cave mouth. Oli gasped and blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Before they did, he heard a voice he did not recognise call out:

  "There's another one come out on this side! The south entrance, Captain! We've got another primitive! This one's a child."

  "Hold him!" came the distant reply. "Don't let him get away!"

  Oli opened his eyes again and squinted in discomfort. Two red soldiers stood in front of him, one on either side of the cave mouth. He felt a flutter as the demon followed him out. He felt a bubbling inside his chest, too, as his temper began to rise. He could not be back here again, in this very same predicament. I have not survived all this to be taken by these men. His voice found words that came out his mouth as though spoken by another.

  "Get out of my way," he commanded.

  The soldiers did not laugh. One looked at the other nervously. They were strong men, but something about the way he had spoken caused them to falter. A moment passed and they drew their swords.

  "Listen, boy, we're holding you here until our captain comes. Don't cause any trouble."

  "I said get out of my way!" This time Oli's voice came out like a roar. He had not heard anyone shout so loud, let alone himself. The two men took a step back and one of them winced. A voice called from the distance:

  "Surus, Yeral, go to help them on the south side. You lot, keep these two secured."

  Oli's anger broke. Something deep inside him that he didn't know was there flowed through into his lungs. It felt as though the earth beneath him breathed out and added its strength to his words, which burst forth from him like an explosion of ice-cold air.

  "GET OUT OF MY FOREST."

  The faces of both soldiers went blank. Their legs gave way and they collapsed as though a puppeteer had cut the strings that held them up. Oli did not know if they were unconscious or dead. He did not care. The world around him danced with colour as though in a new light. He felt his breath go in and out and was not sure if he breathed the forest air or the forest air was breathing him.

  He stepped forward, beyond the edge of the cave mouth and into the sunlight. The forest lay ahead of him. He knew what was there in the distance. He looked up and back, toward the higher cave where the three of them had camped. He tried to make out the entrance farther up, where he and Kastor had explored today. In the distance, little red men hurried and scrambled to reach him. He turned back to where the demon sat, watching him from the darkness. He could see it clearly, now, in this new light. The red eyes glowered from the head of a huge bird of prey. It could have been elegant and fierce, were it not the colour of black soot – a dirty black, as though the colour clung to it as a sickness. He locked eyes with the bird and it dipped its head slightly.

  The bird looked at him, then looked past him. Oli turned. He was facing south. Before him was a wall of trees and he longed now to plunge himself into them, to return to the world he knew. If I travel in a straight line, like a Westerner, I might reach the lake. He wanted the simplicity of this decision. He might die on the way there, ambushed by sleepers, or he might die of thirst or starvation before he made it halfway. At least he'd die facing in the right direction. He had to know.

  Oli took a few steps toward the forest and saw a path in front of him. The slight parting of the leaves and the silvery dusting on the bark of the trunks marked it out. He had not noticed it before, but there it was: a path that went south. He stepped onto it and saw that it did not turn. How was that possible? Every path twisted and turned. Not this one.

  The bird followed him. He stopped and looked down at it. I can't believe I ever feared you, or your master.

  "Go back to Kastor. He needs you more than I do."

  It stared and did not move.

  "Go back. I know the way." Oli smiled softly and added: "I've always known the way."