4
Oxworth Pitt’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked up at the trees and sucked in the fresh air. A deep ache pulsed through his body, but it was the stinging pain on his arms and legs that made him want to stay right where he was. He reluctantly lifted his head and tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness rolled through his head and forced him down again.
The Downs, he thought. I’m in the Downs. How did I get here?
The boy with the death stone had sent him to the Shadowlands. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in there. Faces flashed before his eyes. Max Hamby. Two random women.
Isolde.
Oxworth stiffened at the memory of the witch. She had found him in the mist and attacked him in bear form, then came a ripping sound. Had she torn him in two.
That is impossible, he thought. He checked h
