Nine: The Black Art“Audan, look.” Jareth knelt down to the stony ground. Waving his torch above the surface, he ran his hand along the ground and lifted it upwards. “Blood.” He rubbed the crimson liquid between his fingers. “It's still warm; the bastards can't be far off now.” I gazed up at the narrow, pitch-black cave and wondered which rock or crevice the beasts were hiding behind.
“Then let's keep moving. Perhaps the wolf is dead and only the witch remains. Keep up your guard. There's no telling what manner of sorcery is contained within this place,” remarked Hilgrid.
“Gunnar, get your bow ready. If you see anything move, shoot it,” I ordered. Gunnar happily pulled an arrow from his quiver and made ready his shot. He pulled lightly on the bow's string and aimed the arrow just over my
