Nothing moved. The cave was uncannily silent and still — though outside the whole world seemed to be on the move, driven by the howling wind.
Torna could bear the suspense no longer, and he lunged blind into the darkness with his sword. He met no resistance, heard no scutter of retreating feet. Yet he knew invisible eyes were watching. He lunged again — lost his footing, and lost his sword. Screaming, he slipped and slithered and ended up jammed in a cleft in the rock, his leg trapped and in agony. Feverishly he tried to free his dagger from his belt and at last, sweating and trembling, held it in his hand. He still could see no one, hear no one, yet he knew there was someone there.
‘Help me,’ he ground out between clenched teeth. ‘If you are human, help me. But if you are animal — come
