Chapter 7
After a good hour of walking they reached the edge of the forest and came up against a gigantic wall of grey stone. In the distance, separated by fields and scrubland, a stocky bastion ruled over the landscape. It looked like the mediaeval castle in the painting in the secret room of the National Gallery, except this one stood robust and undamaged, and it flew a red flag overhead.
Ben ran his hand over the wall. The stone was coarse to the touch, but pleasantly warm and undoubtedly real, not just a mirage.
“Where there’s a wall, there must be a gate,” reasoned Maya. “Surely, there are people on the other side.”
“Who’ll maybe want to capture and kill us,” Ben growled, but followed Maya along the wall in search of an entrance. The scrubland soon gave over to a bountiful field o
