CHAPTER 59To help keep his fear at bay, Josyff broke into a jog trot. He found he was clutching the knife, nervously twisting it round in his hand.
He swore inwardly. Childish, childish. Then he called out.
“Henk!”
There was no reply save a faint echo of his own voice. He reached the bend and could not stop himself from looking back over his shoulder towards the Great Hall. He had a disconcerting impression that such of the carvings as he could make out were staring after him. He took another deep, unsteady breath.
The passage was clean and airy and without any sense of menace, but his fear still clung to him. He saw Henk ahead and he called out again. Henk stopped, turned, gave an acknowledging wave and turned off down a side passage.
When Josyff reached where he had been standing, h
