The travelers gathered silently around the base of the Great Carnyx-Daniel, Freya, Swi?gar, and Ecgbryt. There were also those who had come to see them off-Modwyn, Godmund, Frithfroth, the servants Cnafa and Cnapa, and another man- one who stood a small distance apart, making it clear that he didn’t want to talk to anyone; the blacksmith who had worked on Daniel’s sword. Ecgbryt fiddled with his pack’s straps as Swi?gar clamped his teeth on his empty clay pipe. Freya tugged at her dress and Daniel fidgeted with the hilt of his sword.
“Remember,” Godmund said, reiterating the plan for the umpteenth time, “there are many paths through the Wild Caves that will take you to the Sl?pismere-and all of them bend downwards. Once across the Sl?pismere, look for any sign that might lead you, but remember that which you are pitched against is devious and diabolical.”
They were waiting for Ealdstan, and he was not soon in coming. From time to time Daniel glanced up at the large metal horn-the Carnyx-suspended in its small, blunt fortress. The great horn possessed an oddly attractive power. It was captivating, hypnotic. They would tear their eyes away, only to be unwittingly drawn back to it again.
Daniel wondered how many knights would wake up and where they’d be if ever the horn was blown. How would they know what to do?
Freya, however, was wondering what sort of enchantment empowered it and how it worked. Perhaps there was a rational, scientific explanation. Perhaps it was a vibrational thing.
A bell tolled from across the city, signaling the change of the watch, and Godmund made his good-bye. He embraced Swi?gar and Ecgbryt and wished the “fair lifiendes every good fortune and preservation on the journey,” which he hoped would be swift. He shook hands with them awkwardly and left.
Frithfroth puffed out his cheeks impatiently and scuffed his feet against the close-set green and red marble flagstones.
Removing his pipe and placing it in a small leather pouch, Swi?gar cleared his throat. “Time marches on,” he said firmly, “and so must we.”
“Hold,” said Modwyn. “He approaches.”
They turned to see Ealdstan striding across the square, a scowl on his face. He met them and turned his weary eyes to Daniel.
“Destroy it, boy,” he commanded. “Destroy whatever houses Gad’s mortality-whatever the soul box contains-and all his spells and sorceries will unravel.”
Freya didn’t appreciate being ignored in this exchange but was glad she didn’t have to talk to the mean-spirited wizard. Daniel returned Ealdstan’s gaze with a fixed face and gave a solemn nod.
“I won’t let you down.”
Then, with a mournful look, Ealdstan sighed. “I truly wish it was not necessary for you to become involved.” He raised his hands and uttered in a steady voice:
“May the Hand that Makes guide your hearts, May the Light that Illumines shine on your path, And the One that Goes Between aid your steps.”
He dropped his hands unceremoniously.
Then he offered one final piece of advice. “Follow the water,” he said, and turned away. Modwyn frowned after him and turned to Freya. As she opened her mouth to speak, the alarm bell tolled violently. She stiffened, startled.
“Another attack!” Frithfroth exclaimed, his eyes wide with fear. He bowed quickly to Daniel and Freya. “Good-bye, children, may you return swiftly and whole, your task complete.” He rushed away with the two servants behind him.
“You must hurry,” Modwyn said, pushing Freya and Daniel towards the Carnyx building. “The entrance to the Wild Caves is within.” They dashed into it, closely followed by the knights, passing under a low archway, next to which stood several anxious guards. Once through the arch, large metal doors were swung shut and locked behind them.
The inside of the building was like a small maze. The walls and paths twisted and branched, making, supposedly, the centre easier to defend. The knights very quickly led them through the narrow passages. Looking up, Freya saw that it was the central chamber that housed the Carnyx suspended above their heads. Set into the wall was another pair of stone doors a foot wide, tilted back at an angle, like the doors to a bunker or storm cellar. Ecgbryt and Swi?gar flung these open, revealing a tunnel that sloped downwards.
Grabbing two silver lanterns and passing one to Ecgbryt, Swi?gar hurried them inside. With tremendous effort, he pulled both the stone doors closed. They met with an earth-shaking thud and sealed so that they were neat and flush with the other stones in the wall-as if there had never been a doorway there at all.