Disclaimers: see chapter 1

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By Jane Fletcher

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Either Rorg's scepticism of his grandmothers was well founded, or the old women had been tougher in their youth than they'd been given credit for. The journey over the old pass was a nightmare.

On the day they left Treviston Tevi began to have second thoughts. She picked her way along the old pack trail, feeling dwarfed by the overhanging crags scoured with ice and snow. A twinge of foreboding unsettled her stomach, but she brushed away the doubts and fixed her eyes on the trail. Ahead of her went the others in the small team. Apart from Harrick and Rorg, there were two muleteers, a local guide, six hill ponies to ride when possible and nineteen very unhappy mules.

It wasn't long before Tevi was wishing that she had turned her pony around and headed straight back to the comforts of the Treviston guildhall. For the first two days, the route wove its way slowly into the mountains. The track hugged the southern side of a long winding valley that was comparatively sheltered and free from deep snowdrifts. However, the temperature was bitterly cold, firewood was hard to find and the damp managed to find its way into everything. The track then rose sharply, running up the bottom of a steep sided ravine. The gorge acted like a wind tunnel, hurling walls of sleet into their faces. When they reached the top, they were met by a trackless expanse of open moor under a leaden sky.

It was at this time Tevi realised that Harrick had been obliged to employ anyone willing to undertake the journey - consequently the team was not of the highest calibre. The guide, Lerwill, appeared to have less idea of direction than anyone else in the party. After two hours of his dithering Tevi was left wondering how the man normally found his way home at night.

The wind whipped them with freezing blasts as they scrambled out of yet another gully. Lerwill stood a short way in front of the others, looking around in confusion. "It wasn't like this last time I was here." he muttered.

Tevi shouted to be heard over the wind. "Let me guess. There wasn't any of this white fluffy stuff about."

Lerwill pouted sullenly. His hands shook as he pointed to a long ridge cresting in a triple peak. "That's Langhope Rigg. The new pass goes to the south of it, which means..." He spun around and gestured in a vague north-easterly direction. "We need to go that way." He scowled at Tevi, as if daring her to dispute his words.

They remounted their ponies and set off across the snow-covered upland. The mules were miserable and made no attempt to hide the fact from anyone - the same could be said for the muleteers. Tevi pulled her hood forward to shield her face from the wind, and wished she could place more confidence in the guide. At the rate they were going sunset would see them less than a mile from the point where they had climbed onto the moor. Listening to Ricard's stories by the fire suddenly seemed like an extremely enjoyable way to spend time.

* * * * * *

Over the following days Tevi learnt a lot about manhandling mules. She also learnt that, while adversity often brings people closer, this is not necessarily the case. Harrick cursed the weather, the muleteers cursed the mules, Rorg cursed his grandmothers and Lerwill fell into a sulk and cursed everyone. It was mainly due to the efforts of Tevi and Rorg that they eventually found their way across the moor and back onto the trail, wasting no more than a day in the process. Thereafter the route got worse as it passed through the heart of the mountains. Rock-falls and lost paths caused repeated detours and delays.

The muleteers, Jansk and Orpin, were a couple barely out of their teens, whose relationship fluctuated between vicious argument and passionate reconciliation. Orpin had the same wiry build and stubbornness as one of his mules. Jansk was a solid young woman with a short temper. Neither appeared overly endowed with brains. Throughout the early part of the journey, the pair quarrelled incessantly. For some reason, both chose to unburden their hearts to Tevi. During those days, Tevi learnt more intimate details about their relationship than she had any wish to know. She soon ran out of sympathy for the tales of jealousy, selfishness and spite, but neither muleteer picked up on hints that she didn't want to listen.

As far as she could judge, Tevi spent her twentieth birthday carrying the cargo over a rock-fall, while Jansk and Orpin took the mules around a precipitous detour. The route was judged too dangerous for the animals to attempt when laden, although Tevi was unsure whether it was the risk to the mules or the merchandise that prompted the decision. The voices of the muleteers were still audible long after they had disappeared from sight.

"Why are you wearing that old hat again?"

"It keeps my ears warm."

"It makes you look stupid."

"You're only saying that 'cause Lonny gave it to me."

"I didn't know who gave it to you."

"Yes you did. You were there..."

To Tevi's relief the voices faded into the distance leaving her to do her job in peace - apart from the stream of unhelpful advice from Harrick, Rorg's sarcastic interjections and Lerwill's sullen muttering. That night she collapsed into her bedding roll, wet, cold and exhausted from hours of manhandling the heavy load. Her fingers were bruised and chaffed and a wrenched ankle was throbbing.

Jansk crept over. "Do you know what he said to me?" Her voice was a whine.

Tevi peered out from under her blanket. There were tears in Jansk's eyes, but from what Tevi knew of the woman they were more likely due to frustration than grief.

"Who?" A silly question, Tevi realised, even as she spoke.

"Orpin - the dog-sucker."

The phrase was one Tevi had heard Jansk use on several occasions. She hadn't tried to find out its precise derivation, though several possibilities had occurred to her. From Jansk's tone, it was not a term of endearment.

Go away. I can't be bothered with you. The words were on Tevi's lips, but instead she said. "What's wrong?"

"I told you... Orpin."

"What's he done?"

"He won't let us name our first child after my father. He said Pa's an evil old toad."

"Are you pregnant?" Tevi asked.

"Not yet - but after all my Pa's done for us... Can you believe it?"

Tevi buried her head back under the blanket. She couldn't believe any of it.

By the next night, the mule drivers had apparently worked out a compromise for the name of the, as yet, unconceived child. Ignoring the rest of the team, they sat by the fire, staring intently into each other's eyes and mumbling words of endearment. Kisses grew ever more passionate and hands disappeared under the layers of clothing, accompanied by giggling. Tevi found the display acutely embarrassing. On the islands, people used the cover of darkness and didn't make love brazenly in the firelight. She tried to talk to Lerwill by way of a distraction, but his eyes were glazed and his speech slurred. What words she could distinguish carried little sense. Still she persisted until a gesture from Harrick prompted to her to leave the guide and slide across to where the traders were sitting.

"What's wrong with Lerwill?" she asked.

"Opium." Harrick whispered.

Tevi twisted to stare back at Lerwill. "He's an addict?" She had heard of the drug during her travels with Verron and Marith, and even seen users sprawled blank-eyed outside taverns and brothels, but had never made the connection with the guide's erratic behaviour.

"Sort of. He promised not to take any on the journey but he can't seem to function without it. I let him have a little to see if it helps." Harrick said quietly.

"Bloody stupid idea to try this route without a decent guide." Rorg muttered.

"It was all due to your grandmothers' stories." Harrick snapped back.

"I told you, from the start, not to believe the senile old liars."

"And it was your fault we were late getting to Treviston."

"Oh not that one again!"

In front of Tevi's horrified eyes the two traders swung into their bitterest argument to date. Both men were soon trying to get her to side with them.

"Tevi, have you ever heard a bigger load of crap?"

"He's the one talking out of his arse, isn't he Tevi?"

Tevi had no intention of being drawn in. With an excuse she left the traders and went to where the ponies and mules were hobbled. Her own mount snorted in the darkness and shuffled up to nuzzle against her. She hugged the pony around its neck, burying her face in the shaggy mane. "You and me. We're the only sane ones here." Tevi whispered. Although she wondered if confiding in an animal might prejudice her own case.

The next day, the trail rounded the side of a lofty, sheer-sided mountain before dropping into a thickly wooded valley. They were now on the eastern side of Whitfell Spur and the air was noticeably warmer and dryer. That night they camped under pine trees. For the first time firewood was not in short supply.

The trail continued its steady descent for another two days. On the morning of the sixteenth day after leaving Treviston, they reached the head of a wide valley. Fields and villages were spread below in a patchwork. The party made their way eagerly down the trail, encouraged by the thought of a dry bed and food other than trail rations.

At midday, they passed the substantial remains of an old castle, perched on a spur of rock jutting from the hillside. Heavy ramparts linked two towers, one tall, one short. All were built of dark grey granite and dotted with black arrow slits. Tevi looked up as they passed below.

She turned to Rorg who was riding beside her. "Who lives in the castle?"

"Nobody, as far as I know." Rorg said.

"So why is it here?"

"I think the castle goes back to before the region joined the Protectorate. A small garrison used it when this was the main route over the Spur. Since the new pass was built this valley has become a bit of a backwater and the soldiers have gone. They now patrol the new pass."

"The castle seems in good shape." Tevi observed.

"Perhaps the locals are keeping up the maintenance just in case."

The road took them on through the bare winter farmlands until, with enormous relief, the party entered the largest village, situated a mile and a half below the castle. The difficult part was now over. It was three days easy travel to Rizen. Harrick was as keen as everyone else to stop for the night. He soon arranged accommodation with the local reeve, a thin middle-aged woman, who led the small crowd of surprised villagers that came to greet them.

* * * * * *

The villagers used their arrival as an excuse for an impromptu party that evening. Visitors from the outside world were always cause for excitement, especially during the winter isolation. Virtually everyone from miles around squeezed into the meeting hall in the centre of the village, next to the reeve's cottage. Their curiosity, however, was confined to the local area, and the main interest was with Harrick, Rorg and their news from Rizen. Once it was learnt that Tevi came from 'far distant lands' she was more or less ignored, apart from a few curious stares and the customary band of small children, entranced by her mercenary tattoos.

A barrel of the local beer was opened and someone began playing a fiddle, although the space was too cramped to allow dancing. From what Tevi could see the meeting hall doubled as a hay barn and sheering shed. It would also be their accommodation for the night. Tevi lifted her eyes to the rafters and smiled. The thought of dry hay to sleep on and a roof over her head was bliss.

As the evening progressed the children were sent to bed and the crowd began to disperse, although it promised to be some time before the travellers would be able to sleep. The reeve, Sergo, was one of the few villagers to have any interest in the wider world. She had just engaged Tevi in talk about Lyremouth when the door opened and a grim-faced man stepped in. He made straight for the reeve, who stopped speaking mid-sentence at the sight of the newcomer's face.

"You've found more victims?" Sergo sounded frightened.

"Two sheep. Up by the north falls." The man jerked his head back over one shoulder.

"Spring's on the way. It won't stay around much longer, surely?" Sergo tone made it more a plea than a question.

"So you say, but I reckon it depends on who called it here, and why." The man crossed his arms on his chest belligerently while a small circle of villagers formed around him and Sergo. Voices in the rest of the barn were muted.

"No one has called it." Sergo's tone did not match the confidence of her words. "It's just the bad winter has forced the thing down the Spur from the high Barrodens up north."

"Or her, up at the castle, has called on another pet."

Sergo looked at him in dismay, clearly lost for words.

In the resulting tense silence Tevi asked, "What's been called here?"

"A basilisk." The man snapped out the answer.

"What's a basilisk?" Tevi was still confused.

"A monster from the wildlands. It feeds on life essence. It's got this third eye in the centre of its forehead. It locks eyes with its prey and drains the life out. Turns the body to stone, and the eyes become like jewels."

"Has it killed anyone?" Tevi asked.

"Not yet. So far it's just taken a dozen or so sheep." Sergo said weakly.

"But it's going to get someone soon. Mark my words - we've got to do something." The man glared at the reeve as he spoke.

"Nobody here can deal with it. You need magic on your side to stand a chance. It will go soon - I know it will." Sergo sounded as if she did not fully believe her own words.

"Can't you call in a sorcerer to help you?" Tevi asked, remembering the one in Treviston. After the journey over the mountains, Tevi would happily have directed a dozen basilisks in her direction.

"There's one too many in these parts as it is." someone in the crowd muttered in scorn.

"Most likely her behind it." a second voice added.

Others agreed

The angry man turned to face Tevi. "We've got a Coven sorcerer, black amulet and everything. We never used to have one and were far better off like that. We got by with a simple witch, a healer who could turn her hand to a bit of rain calling. Nothing much happens around here; we don't need anyone fancy. But when old Colly died we got a sorcerer sent here. If I could I'd slit her throat." The man's face twisted in hatred. "Take my word for it - she's evil and she knows all about the basilisk." The last sentence was spat at the reeve, then the man spun on his heel and stalked towards the door.

Sergo called after the departing figure. "She can't be involved. The Coven know what they're doing. They wouldn't send her here if she was corrupt or dangerous."

"If you believed that you'd go and ask her to help." The man tossed the words over his shoulder as he left the hall.

Nobody else challenged the reeve's statement directly to her face, but there were plenty of muttered comments. As the crowd in the hall thinned still further Tevi found herself seated on a rickety bench, next to a plump elderly woman, who was sipping noisily from a mug of beer.

"What's so bad about the sorcerer?" Tevi asked, to open the conversation.

The woman glanced around the room, then put her head close to Tevi's and whispered theatrically. "She's up to no good." The woman nodded to reinforce her words. "When she arrived she wouldn't stay in the village. We offered her Colly's old house, but she moved up to the castle. Said if we wanted her help we could go up there. But I won't. Not after want happened to Gerry's daughter. It's a mercy everyone's been so healthy, hardly as much as a cold since last summer, 'cause there's no one who'd risk going up to the castle if they were sick. Gerry was the one who came in just now with the news about the sheep. The sorcerer's put charms and things up on the hilltops. I dread to think what they're for. Gerry's been hunting them down. He reckons he's destroyed about five of them, but how many more are there? That's what I want to know, and what are they for? That sorcerer's up to mischief. Some nights you see lights flickering around the walls. Gives me the creeps."

"Perhaps she just wanted peace and quiet to practice her magic. The charms might be totally harmless." Tevi suggested.

The woman snorted. "She's hiding something. She's got a room she won't let anyone in. We know because Dorin went up there to help out at first, but he wouldn't stay. He wasn't too clear in his wits to start off with, but he's been worse since he came back. And you should hear some of the stories he has to tell." In her enthusiasm to recount the tale the woman's voice had risen. "Then Shiral went up there to work for her. Now she was a bright girl. But something happened. After a month, the sorcerer brought her back to her parents. The girl was out cold for three days and when she woke up, she just screamed at everything for hours on end. Her parents say she still has horrible nightmares, and we've never got a clear story out of her. She was frightened senseless by something up there. Now the sorcerer has 'things' running loose at the castle. Sergo says they're bears, but I've never seen bears act like that. And there's other creatures. She has a magpie that talks to her. It spies on folk."

The woman stopped and glanced fearfully over her shoulder, as if expecting to see the malevolent bird behind her. Her voice dropped to a whisper again. "But Gerry's daughter was the worst. The girl had cut her leg and it was turning bad. When he saw there was nothing for it, Gerry took her up to the castle. The sorcerer took the child and sent him away - forced him out of the castle. The next day the sorcerer brought the child back down to the village." The speaker sat back and glanced fearfully in the direction of the castle then lent forward to finish decisively, "The girl was dead."

"Can't you report the sorcerer to the Coven or something?" Tevi asked.

"That would be for the reeve, and if you ask me she's too frightened." The villager scowled in Sergo's direction.

Tevi left the elderly woman and wandered thoughtfully around the room. She was not totally convinced of the sorcerer's wickedness - the villager had clearly enjoyed her own story much too much to take it all on trust. The death of a seriously ill child was not proof of murder, and as for the rest, the Treviston sorcerer clearly had a peculiar sense of humour, perhaps this one did as well. The basilisk was a more urgent, and probably unrelated, problem. Tevi was considering the villagers' plight when she was disturbed by Orpin's whining voice.

"Tevi, I need your help."

"What with?" Tevi said, impatiently

"Jansk is ignoring me."

"What do you expect me to do about it?" Tevi snapped.

"Well... I thought... perhaps if you were to pretend that you were, you know, getting keen on me..." Orpin shuffled his feet looking slightly embarrassed. "She'd get jealous and stop acting funny."

The suggestion did not merit a reply, and three more days with the muleteers did not bare thinking about. On the far side of the barn, Harrick was now talking to Sergo. Tevi headed straight in their direction.

Tevi spoke in a rush. "Harrick, I don't know if you've heard, but the villagers have a problem with a basilisk. Now we're over the pass you won't need me any more. I wondered if you'd consider paying me off early, so I can stay here and help out."

Sergo was overjoyed, and made her own appeal to the trader. "Please. You don't know what this could mean to us."

Harrick hesitated, slightly shame-faced. "I don't mind you staying, but I don't have enough coin on me. I was counting on selling the merchandise in Rizen first."

The traders were certainly running to a tight budget, but it was not Tevi's concern. She shrugged and said, "You can pay my salary into the Rizen guildhall. I'll collect my share when I get there and the guild can keep its quarter."

Tevi knew she could trust Harrick to do that. Even if he would short-change her, no trader with any sense would dare try cheating the mercenaries' guild. In the end Harrick offered to let her keep the pony she had been riding as collateral against her wages. Everyone was happy with the arrangements - except Orpin.

* * * * * *

The following morning Tevi stood with the pony to wave good-bye to Harrick's team as they disappeared down the road. The rest of the day was spent learning as much as she could about her quarry, talking to the villagers and getting a feel for the surrounding countryside. It involved a lot of travelling and being introduced to folk, all very keen to talk to her, yet with very little real information to give. Only one ancient woman, huddled by her great-grandson's fire, could remember the last time a basilisk had troubled the valley, but her wits were going and her speech rambled without direction. Tevi finally left after lengthy questioning, still unsure whether the woman's advice was for killing basilisks or peeling potatoes. The reference to eyes could have applied to either.

In the late afternoon, a shepherd took her to see the most recent victims of the monster. In the pastures above the main village stood two stone sheep, their eyes shining like polished glass. Tevi knelt and ran her hand over the back of one. It wasn't proper stone. It felt soft and crumbly, like a powdery grey chalk. Dust clung to Tevi's fingers and already much of the fine detail on the wool was gone, blown away by the wind that gusted over the hillside.

On all sides, snow covered the ground, pock-marked with the sharp round hoof-prints of sheep, and the larger, softer paw-marks of the basilisk, like those of a great cat, stalking its prey. The villagers' estimates of the size of the beast had varied wildly. Tevi tried to form her own judgement, measuring the width of the prints with her fingers. It was hard to come to any definite conclusion, apart from casting doubt on the more sensational claims.

The paw-marks ran off in an undulating line across the fields. Tevi and her guide followed them for some way, until the trail reached a rocky ford across a stream, fringed with ice. The shepherd's two dogs ran sweeps around them, excitedly sniffing the snow, though probably more interested in rabbits than basilisks. On the other side of the stream, the paw-marks continued their line towards a wooded area, high on the hillside, a mile or so away.

"That's were it's hiding out. Its tracks always lead there." The shepherd said and pointed to the trees.

"Has no one tried putting snares out for it?" Tevi asked.

"One or two, but no one's dared go back to see if they've caught anything."

"Since the beast struck yesterday, they obviously haven't."

"True." The shepherd agreed with Tevi's assessment.

"Have you seen it?" Tevi asked.

"My sister did once, at dusk, drinking at the pool on Matte's farm. That's when it comes out most - dawn and dusk."

Tevi stood on the banks of the stream and studied the distant wood, shading her eyes against the setting sun - a reminder that dusk was not far away on that day. The trees gave no clues as to their occupant. Tevi's survey followed the line of the hillside down to the valley floor. Three small villages and a dozen isolated farmhouses dotted the fields and riverside water meadows. Sheep, goats and cattle grazed the lower slopes of the valley. Above them, almost directly opposite where Tevi was standing, the castle hunched on its outcrop of rock, a sombre presence in the valley. The fortifications were already fading into the shadows of evening. The shepherd followed the direction of Tevi's eyes and spat into the snow but said nothing, only whistled in the dogs and led the way back down the hillside to the welcoming lights of the village.

That night Tevi was offered lodging in the reeve's home. Sergo lived with a woman relative and a young son - Tevi was unable to work out whose, but the three were so close it didn't seem to matter. The family lived in a small room at one end of the cottage, while the rest of the building was given over to a cow-barn, dairy and all-purpose workroom.

Tevi felt it would be ill-mannered to refuse the offer of a bed, even though the cottage was cramped and noisy - particularly when a group of villagers squeezed in and stayed up late, to recount all they knew of the basilisk and its ways. Their advice didn't amount to much, apart from a general agreement that looking into the third eye was the thing to avoid. However, the cottage was warmer than the sheering barn and homely, smelling of cows, cheese and wood-smoke. And the bed, when Tevi finally got to it, was soft.

* * * * * *

Dawn the next morning was cloudless, though the sun held little warmth. The mountains of the Spur cut a sharp line against the washed blue winter sky. In the reeve's cottage, Tevi was awakened before first light. While Sergo and her relatives began their daily tasks, she sat by the fire with a bowl of porridge and completed the last of her preparations, sharpening her weapons and checking them for weaknesses that might betray her at a crucial spot. A knock on the door announced the arrival of the village blacksmith. In addition to the promised small iron shield, he bought an old two-handed battle-axe. It was probably scavenged from the castle decades ago and since used for chopping wood, but it had been sharpened to a keen edge. Tevi accepted it with a wry smile, remembering Cayell's remarks concerning axe-women.

On the previous afternoon, in a display of bravado, two local youths had volunteered to accompany Tevi as far as the wood. They now joined her outside the sheering barn. The three of them left the village to a chorus of good-wishes. The young men were still putting a brave face on for their friends, though Tevi wondered if they were starting to regret their rashness - she was wondering the same thing about herself.

The wood was silent as they approached. All that could be heard was the whisper of wind in the branches, the bleating of sheep and the distant clatter of a cowbell. Not far to their left a clear trail of paw-marks, less than a day old, disappeared into the trees. The basilisk was using a faint trail made by wild deer. Tevi tried to judge how far it went, but although most of the summer undergrowth beneath the trees had died back there were still enough evergreen leaves and coils of dry bramble to prevent her seeing more than a few yards ahead.

"Do you want to wait out here for me?" Tevi asked.

"We'll follow you a little way." One of the youths said, and managed a sickly smile. "After all you've got the weapons if the thing shows up."

Progress was slow and uncomfortable, watching each footfall as best they could while crouched almost double due to low hanging branches. They had advanced about a furlong into the wood when they heard the unmistakable sound of a large animal nosing through the undergrowth a short way ahead. The noise was certainly too loud to be a bird, although it might be a lost sheep. The rustling ceased briefly, then began moving again. The sound played among the tree trunks, making it difficult to assess direction or speed. Tevi's hands tightened on the shaft of her spear. Her heart thudded against her ribs. Behind her the villagers froze as if already turned to stone, even their breathing stopped.

"Wait here. If it's safe I'll call to you." Tevi whispered.

"Right." The two men seemed more than willing to follow her instructions.

"And if anything goes wrong..."

"We run."

Tevi smiled grimly. "Right."

Twenty yards further on Tevi reached the edge of a small, snow-filled clearing. She hid behind a tree with her back braced against its broad trunk, then cautiously twisted and peered around the side. The rising sun had cleared the tops of the trees. Light glinted dazzling white off the icy ground, while in the shadows the snow was palest blue. The bushes and trees on the far side made a dark, knotted, unbroken barrier. At first nothing stirred, then a bush twitched, and then another and then stillness. Tevi's eyes were locked in dread fascination on the spot where the last sign of movement had been. Abruptly the branches dipped and were pushed back. The basilisk broke through the undergrowth to stop a little way clear of the trees, sniffing the air.

It was much smaller than Tevi had expected. The size of a large dog, with a long sinuous neck and a head that would have been rather like an otter's, if it weren't for the protruding third eye, bulging in the centre of its forehead. The animal was dark brown, covered in a thick, shaggy pelt, that told of its home in the high northern mountains. It stood poised as if ready to spring, long tail trailing in the snow. Its nose pointed into the air, casting about for scent.

Tevi ensured her sword was loose in its scabbard and the axe secure on the strap hung over her shoulder. She took the spear firmly in one hand and raised the shield in front of her face, guarding her eyes. All she could see of the creature was its shadow on the ground. She stepped around the tree and out into the open. The basilisk gave a soft whine and started to pad towards her.

Under the rim of her shield Tevi watched the basilisk's shadow as it approached. She noted the swinging motion of its head, the roll of its shoulders and its graceful cat-like gait. And will it also pounce like a cat? she wondered Or charge like a boar? The villagers had been able to give no advice.

The basilisk halted a few feet away, wary, and half-crouched on its haunches. It appeared to rise up and then drop back on all fours. Its head swung low and out to the right. Tevi prayed that she was interpreting the movement of the shadow correctly. For a split second, she almost gave in to the temptation to lift her shield and confirm her guesswork, to see clearly what the basilisk was doing. She clenched her teeth; a second's lapse in concentration - that was all it would take.

Without warning, the beast sprung towards her, a high, lunging attack. The claws of one paw caught on the edge of Tevi's shield and pulled it aside, but already she was moving, ducking with her eyes closed, and trusting upwards with the spear. She felt the jolt as the point made contact and lodged firmly in the animal's chest. The basilisk's piercing howl filled the clearing. It flung itself back, dragging the spear from Tevi's hand. Still with her eyes shut tightly, Tevi shrugged the axe off her shoulder and grasped the handle. She risked one brief glimpse of her quarry. Scarcely an arm's length away the basilisk's head was thrown back in a second long howl. Its front paws scraped at the shaft of the spear, while its body crumpled against the snow. The axe felt solid in Tevi's hands. She swung as hard as she could and, with a single stroke, decapitated the beast.

Suddenly it was very quiet. In front of her, the headless carcass collapsed, gushing red blood that melted into the snow. There was the faintest twitch of a back leg, and then the beast was still. Tevi was surprised to realise she was shaking violently. She sunk to her knees, breathing deeply and waited for the pounding of her heart to ease. The shaft of the spear was within reach. A quick tug pulled it free and Tevi used it as a staff to help herself stand. Unexpectedly, she felt a childish grin spread across her face. Fighting back giggles, she scooped up a handful of snow and rubbed it roughly over her eyes, cheeks and mouth, and took another deep breath.

"It's alright. You can come now. It's dead." She shouted to the young men.

Despite her assurance, they advanced cautiously through the woods, with hesitant steps and hushed voices, until they reached the clearing and saw the scene before them. Broad smiles replaced their anxious expressions.

"Hey, you did it!"

"Swiped its head clean off!" They gave vent to twin exclamations of delight.

"It was pretty straight forward. The thing didn't..." Tevi stopped herself; too much modesty might seem arrogant.

Feeling slightly detached, Tevi stood back and watched as the men approached the body, prodding it with their feet and making silly jokes between themselves. Her gaze shifted away and set on the basilisk's head. It had bounced, rolled and ended up in a small hollow in the snow, a dozen paces away. Tevi walked over and grabbed it by the fur between the ears. "Who gets to keep the trophy?"

One of the villagers laughed. "You do, if you want it."

"It could go on the wall of the sheering shed." The other suggested.

Tevi held the basilisk's head up level with her own. The jaw hung open, revealing a row of blunt peg-like teeth. The basilisk would never have been able to deliver a serious bite, and its body, although well-muscled, was ill adapted for a fight. Tevi had already noted its claws were weak and blunt. The creature had only one real weapon - the strange protrusion on its forehead. Tevi examined the dome-like bulge and the thick lids. Close up they looked more like a mouth than an eye. With the thumb and one finger of her free hand she tried to prise them open, to see what lay beneath. The lips were just starting to part when Tevi felt the sudden twitch of muscle under her fingers. The central eye snapped open.

* * * * * *

The young men were involved in a debate about the best way to remove the basilisk's pelt. They didn't realise anything was wrong until Tevi screamed. They spun in her direction, in time to see her crash down to her knees, the echo of her scream still ringing in the air. Both Tevi's hands were pressed tightly against her eyes.

The men froze, caught on the brink of flight, but no new danger was apparent. Slowly, one man crept to Tevi's side and knelt beside her.

"What's wrong Tevi?" he asked, nervously.

She did not answer.

He took hold of her wrists, trying to pull her hands away so he could see her face. It was a futile attempt. Whatever the problem was, her strength was unaffected and he could not compete. Tevi's shoulders shook with gasps, sounding as if they were ripped from the back of her throat. The man looked up to his friend, unsure of what to do. The other could only shrug.

"What's happened?" The kneeling man tried once more.

Again there was no answer, instead Tevi threw back her head and screamed again. Her hand clenched into fists.

"Tevi?"

At last, she turned her face towards his voice. The young man found himself staring into two blind eyes of polished glass.

* * * * * *

A small group of people huddled in one corner of the reeve's house, arguing among themselves. Tevi lay on a bunk against the opposite wall, well within earshot, but completely incapable of paying attention to what was said. It felt as if her eyes had been replaced by red-hot coals. The pain flared out and ran like liquid fire across her face and down her neck, surging with each throb of her pulse. Nothing existed except the pain. A crude ice pack of snow rolled in linen was tied over her eyes, for what little good it did. Despite her efforts at silence, Tevi knew she was whimpering like a whipped child.

Sergo's voice was the clearest, "It's her only hope."

"Better to give her a knife, like she asked, and let her put an end to it." another argued.

"No, not yet. The pain will probably ease in a day or two." said a third voice.

"But she'll still be blind." Sergo spoke again. "We owe her a better chance."

"She won't get that at the castle."

"We could send her to Rizen."

"Is she fit to travel?"

"It's easy to give advice you wouldn't take yourself."

"Enough!" Sergo raised her voice and put a stop to the muttered disagreements. "She can choose."

The reeve walked to Tevi's side and put a hand upon her shoulder. "Tevi, do you hear me?"

Tevi managed a nod to show she was listening.

"We can do nothing for you here." Sergo said softly.

"I know." Tevi's voice was a rasp.

"I think you should go to the sorcerer at the castle. She might be able to help you."

"Is that likely?" Tevi had to fight to form each word.

"There's a lot of silly rumours, and I admit I'm a bit disturbed by her. But I don't think you have any other options." Sergo glanced over her shoulder at the sullen group behind her. "Do you agree, Tevi?"

After a long pause, Tevi's mouth formed the word, "Yes." She would have agreed to anything.

* * * * * *

Tevi was vaguely aware that she was being bundled out of the cottage and onto her pony. There were voices but she couldn't be bothered to make out the words. The only detail that registered was that her weapons were still attached to the saddle pack. Presumably, nobody had taken the time to unload her belongings. Tevi certainly had no use for them. The only thing that sustained her was the thought, With any luck, the sorcerer will complete the basilisk's job and turn me to stone, and statues don't feel pain.

The journey to the castle seemed unending. When they at last reached the gates, hands helped her dismount, patted her on the shoulder, and guided her to the pony's reins. She wrapped them tightly around her wrist and leaned against the flank, fighting the twin urges to pass-out and throw-up. Her legs felt as weak as a baby's. Without the support of the pony, Tevi knew she would have fallen. A bell chimed loudly. One of the people who had brought her must have rung it, or maybe it was the sorcerer's magic. Whatever the cause, the bell was followed by the sound of her guides, running away down the hillside as fast as their legs could carry them. In a better state, she might have been apprehensive, to be left forsaken at the sorcerer's doors. However Tevi was now completely beyond caring.

There was a long silence, broken only by the whisper of wind through the long grass and the call of wild birds. Then came soft, furtive shuffling from the other side of the gate. The hinges groaned as it swung open. Knowing what was expected of it, the pony trotted forward a dozen yards or so, dragging Tevi with it. She felt the loss of warmth as she went from sunshine into shadow. The ground under the pony's hooves changed from earth to cobblestones. The reverberations indicated that she was now in a large, enclosed courtyard. The gate closed behind them - not a loud crash but a solid, decisive thud.

Rapid chattering broke out just above Tevi's head. Small things rushed passed her feet. Something with claws touched her knee. Then uneven, shambling steps came slowly in her direction, accompanied by wet, guttural breathing - it was surely not the sorcerer, nor anything human. Whatever it was frightened the pony. It skittered away, nearly jerking Tevi to her knees. She yanked on the reins, pulling the pony to a stop. There was no point running from anything in the castle; it could do its worst; she only hoped it would do it quickly.

Again the pony tried to flee. Lacking the will to fight, Tevi released the reins, and let it go. She was left alone, surrounded by the unseen creatures of the castle. The ground seemed to sway beneath Tevi's feet. She nearly stumbled, but somehow remained standing. Her teeth clenched shut. The approaching thing grew near. Something wet touched her hand and, despite all her resolve, Tevi flinched away.

A new sound caught Tevi's ear - the unmistakable rhythm of human footsteps, the beat of heel and toe on stone. The sorcerer was coming, walking confidently and descending stairs. The shuffling stilled and retreated. The small things around Tevi's feet fled. Tevi twisted her head, following the sound of the sorcerer's footsteps, listening as they reverberated over a hollow, wooden platform. The feet descended more steps and stopped. In the sudden silence, a harsh, inhuman screech rang out, echoing off stone walls. The cry seemed to reverberate from beyond the limits of the known world, cold and desolate.

For the space of two dozen heartbeats nothing in the courtyard stirred. Then the human footsteps resumed, walking steadily towards her, getting closer. With the last of her courage Tevi turned towards the sound of the sorcerer's advancing feet, waiting until they were no more than ten paces away before she spoke.

"Please. I need your help."

"I know. I've been expecting you."

Continued in Part Two - The Sorcerer