Slipped away last night. Easy. I was sharing guard duty with Kanar and when he went to relieve himself, I just picked up my belongings and crept out of the camp. But I’m not alone. No. The shadows are with me. They covered my tracks and led me deep into the woods until I couldn’t hear the others shouting my name any longer. The voices still want me to kill them. Even as I write, they whisper of the threat the others pose –especially to Maya. It’s hard to imagine that O’Heir and Justin have fully turned against me, too. But it sounds like they have. O’Heir told me straight up this morning that he’s ignoring my instructions to allow the Basilod’s shadow return to the Parawerthan. He said I needed to talk to the others, especially Sara and Armbranch. Easy for him to say. He’s not here. He hasn’t seen they way they’ve behaved. They’ve followed me. I can hear them calling out my name again. They’re so close even the mist shadows cannot smother the sound. Guess I should move on soon, go deeper into the woods and find Gerridian.

I also need some rest. I don’t think I’m strong enough yet to take on the others. No. I’ll try and find Gerridian first and get some help from him.

More voices in my head. Lots more voices. And I know it’s not my imagination. No. They’re real because now I can see things, too. Shadows. Formless shadows that have a deeper life than any mere shape. They’re everywhere amid the vegetation outside our camp. They’re watching me, waiting for me. They drift like mist through the bushes and trees. Always circling. Always whispering to me. Occasionally I see a red eye, a crack of a mouth, or the vague contours of a face. Mostly, though, I see only shadows. And that’s enough for now, enough to convince me of the reality of this place.

I’m sure the others can’t see them, although I think Kanar senses something. I’m also sure that Armbranch has somehow used the laptop while I’ve been asleep. O’Heir sounds worried. In his last message he urged me to talk to Sara and tell her I’m not feeling too good. Even Justin mailed me and advised something similar. What nonsense. What worries me even more is how Armbranch might have managed to turn my friends against me.

The voices are echoing loud and long inside my head now. Kill Kanar, they say. And Sara and Cutter, too.  Then Armbranch needs to be burned over a roaring fire so his ash is scattered on the wind. Much as I’d like to, killing them might be difficult. They’re watching me at all times now and I doubt my shotgun would be any match for Kanar’s tricks. No. I won’t kill them. Not yet anyway. I’ll stick to my plan and run. Then, from the safety of the woods, I might get a chance to pick them off.

Gerridian will come to me then. The voices tell me this also. He’ll come and help me free Maya at last.

Something woke me early this morning. A voice in my ear, a voice telling me I was being betrayed. I’ve contacted O’Heir and told him it’s best if they let the shadow return to the Parawerthan. It needs to go home, needs to rest. O’Heir’s got to strip down the barricades and take all the petrol from the house. Daidogan’s got to go, too. It’s too risky to have her there in case she attempts to stop the shadow when it arrives.

The shadow is harmless, a lost thing simply pining for home. It won’t harm Maya. I’m quite sure of that. All it wants to do is pass through the gateway peacefully.

I feel somewhat comfortable in this place now, almost as comfortable as being back home snuggled up by a fire while a December storm rages outside. The others don’t look comfortable. And I think I understand why. All the badness inside them, all the sneakiness, anger, cunning, and spite, is reacting to this place because it’s not welcome here. That will work well in my favour when I slip away. This isn’t Gerridian’s empire. No. It’s simply a place he’s created to come to when he needs to relax and rejuvenate.

Maybe I should use Lailia’s pen now. Yes. It might be an idea to let the Golden Eyes know how safe they would be if they relocated here.

Sara called a day of rest today. It was most welcome. I had a rough night. Barely slept. Shortly after I finished the first guard shift I was trying to sleep when I heard someone creeping up close to me. Armbranch. I could tell by the smell of his breath. I kept my eyes closed and just listened. I think he was looking for the laptop. Yes. So he can write lies about me. He crept away after a few minutes. But I didn’t sleep again after that. He tried talking to me this morning, mentioned something about breakfast. Breakfast. Ha! He never once asked me before about breakfast. Probing me. That’s what he was doing. Probing my state of mind.

Don’t worry, Armbranch. My state of mind is perfectly okay.

It’s odd, but the more I write the truth about this place, the more confused the others get back home. I got a mail from O’Heir in the afternoon asking if I was okay. Never better, I told him. Justin mailed shortly after that and told me it might be an idea to let Armbranch log on for a while. He said it might keep Armbranch happy. That might be true, but I’m not willing to take the chance. Justin didn’t push it when I told him this.

Resting now. I spent an hour with Maya this evening and I think I’ll spend another hour with her later. Need to get some sleep first. And I’ll sleep with the laptop and Purdy very close to me tonight.

The forest is looking more like a jungle now, an empty, silent jungle. I’d give anything to hear a distant birdsong, a breaking branch, or even the hum of an insect. But it’s so dead in here. At times it’s like a part of me has died already and I’m walking along some ‘nowhere’ trail between life and death. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn Sara’s putting something in my food to slow me down. I haven’t spoken to any of them since yesterday morning. Armbranch approached me last night, but turned away again when he saw the shotgun in my lap.

At times it’s hard not to feel just a little bit of sympathy for him. He’s still a slave. I realise that now, and the way he works so hard scanning the forest for the others only bears that out. It’s rare that he spends any more than a few minutes with us during daylight now. He’s always ahead, always scouting. And it reminds me of the Shavlod and how he seemed to dedicated to me there. It’s really, really hard to believe he was working for others then. But it’s the only logical thing I can think of. And what about the ‘wind above the trees’? Okay, so it protected us. Now I’ve time to reflect, I see it was only acting as a shepherd protecting something valuable. Me. I’m also sure that’s how Armbranch was communicating with his superiors. I don’t believe there’s a Nescan Guild. No. I think the Cadavat were his real masters all along.

Poor Armbranch. I believe there was a friendship between us once –if only a friendship moulded out of curiosity. When I find Gerridian and all this gets resolved I’ll make sure Armbranch has a quick and easy death.

I’m going to break away soon. First, though, I think I need to negate a few threats. Kanar’s got to go. He’s the most powerful of them so I can’t risk him using any of his tricks on me. I’ll do Sara, too, if I get a chance. And even if Armbranch might well be able to track me, I can’t bring myself to harm him yet. After all, no matter what his ultimate goal in leading me to the Cadavat, he did help me out many times already. I owe him that much. And I feel so very close to Maya now. With luck this whole thing will be resolved soon.

Just as soon as I find Gerridian.

He’s around here somewhere. I can sense him watching, waiting. Yes. Waiting for me.

Armbranch came slinking up to me again this morning asking if he could use the laptop. I refused. I had reception trouble all day yesterday and I know well his true reasons now for wanting access. It’s not Facebook or Teen chat anymore. No. He wants to contact O’Heir and spread lies about me. I regret now ever showing him how to use the laptop. All he ever wanted was to use it against me. And his words were like a terrible scratching deep inside my head, like something had birthed in there and was attempting to scrabble its way out.

He didn’t argue when I told him to get lost. But a saw a streak of badness in his eyes as he backed away. He was gauging me, wondering if he might be able to jump me. He backed off quicker when I picked up the Purdy. I felt like blasting him again. And this time I’d stamp all the bits and pieces into the ground so they couldn’t regenerate again. A false friend. That’s what he was. It was he who led me away from Maya with talk of finding this Basilod. Only for him I’d probably have found a way to release her from her coma long ago.

It’s amazing. The more time I spend in this place, the more reality I see. This place has given me a true sight. I’m sure that’s what happened Keyes, too. He saw what the Parawerthan really was and that’s why he sealed up the tunnel and never returned home in case he brought some of this poison with him. I’m returning, though. Nothing’s going to stop me. And if I bring some of this badness with me, well, big deal. Things are bad enough in Ireland right now. Maybe a taste of magic might do them all a favour.

We spent today moving through the forest. It’s deep and dense here and we’re forced to cut our way through it in places. But it’s not like cutting through ordinary forest. No. The sound the branches make as they break is dull and muted and false. Yet, no matter how dense the vegetation is, I’m never alone. Not for any more than a few seconds. I always feel like I’m being watched. It’s mostly Cutter keeping his eye on me. Even when I pause for a toilet break he’s never far away.

I think I should break away from the others before they try something. Gerridian’s in here somewhere. Maybe I can do a deal with him to free Maya. If Sara and the Cadavat are his enemies then maybe the old saying ‘my enemy’s enemy is my friend’ might hold some weight with him.

For now, though, I’ll play it cool. If they suspect their ‘bait’ is about to break free they might not look so kindly on me any more.

Kanar discovered some tracks this morning shortly after we left camp. Small tracks. Cutter learned nothing from the wind, but the tracks themselves spoke volumes. An animal came close to the camp last night. Worse still, the tracks completely disappeared after leading about fifty yards into the woods. Armbranch searched the area for over an hour, but found nothing. It’s disturbing that we didn’t hear or see anything last night.

But at least it’s proof that something does exist in this place. In my mind I saw some crazy little deer with wings who glided in to take a look and then just sailed off again. The others didn’t discuss this visit much. Not with me anyway. They’re behaving in their usual, silent manner. And I’m beginning not to care.

Armbranch looks worse today. Truly a weed. I can see that clearly now. Yes, a weed whose filthy roots have been slowly embedding themselves in my mind since we first started travelling together. He doesn’t wish me well. I was a fool to think he ever did. After all, I did shoot him. Now that I can see things so clearly in this place I understand everything. He wants revenge Yes. And he’ll probably take the laptop as a trophy once he’s done with me.

I’ve been such a fool. I can’t believe that I’ve been so blinkered in all the months I’ve been in the Parawerthan. In an insane sort of way I’m beginning to feel gratitude, not hatred, towards Gerridian. After all, above all others, he’s the one who’s opened my eyes most. And I’ll thank him for that. Yes. Just before I kill him.

Got a mail from O’Heir last night asking if I was okay. At first I thought it was a joke. I’ve never felt better. But when I told him this he didn’t seem convinced. He’s been reading the blog and thinks my posts are wavering a bit.

Not wavering, my friend. Truthful. For the first in almost a year, I feel like I’m actually writing the truth about the Parawerthan.

Now it’s time to spend some time with Maya. She might be far, far away, but I feel closer to her now than anyone else here.

It’s getting hard to focus in this place now. I don’t mean the landscape. It’s much the same.  No. I mean my companions. It’s like they’re fading away on front of my very eyes. Or at least it feels like that. They’re so silent, so very, very cautious around me. Even when I look at Armbranch I don’t see him clearly –or at least the Armbranch I knew. His very frame is becoming twisted, warping and darkening into something that looks more like a weed, a black weed whose red eyes fade dimmer day by day.

Is this place slowly claiming him? Or maybe it’s slowly claiming them all. I’m also starting to wonder if I understand why Sara wanted me to accompany them in here. Am I bait? Is she hoping my presence will draw out Gerridian? Judging by the way they’re all treating me with kid gloves, it’s a rational assumption. They won’t let me take any risks whatsoever. Maybe that’s why we take guard duty in pairs? Is Kanar watching me during those periods, too?

Time to make camp now. Time to start gathering firewood to feed those hateful little flames.

There was a welcome development this morning when Armbranch asked if he could use the laptop for while. I agreed. And for a short while things were back to normal. We chatted away about this place, how bad Sara’s food was, and how he might set up a Facebook account soon. It didn’t last, though. Once we set off deeper into the forest he rarely spoke to me all day. No. He spent much of his time with Cutter.

It didn’t bother me much. I’m getting used to these long periods of silence as we continue southeast. It gives me time to think, to analyse what’s going on around me. One thing I’ve realised is that we don’t seem to have much of a plan. Keep going southeast, Sara says. So we keep going southeast. Before we passed through the shield she always struck me as being fully in control. Her confidence hasn’t change since. No. But I’m beginning to worry about her decisions. I can’t help thinking this is all wrong. This new forest could as well be a trap, a slow burning trap, designed to grow thicker and thicker until we were forced to hack our way through it until we weakened and were easy to pick off.

My own instincts tell me we should sit and wait for Gerridian to come to us. The others disagree. Kanar said it would be a waste of time. Cutter just snorted. And even Armbranch gave me a very ‘parental’ look I didn’t like. Maybe I’d be better off without them for a while. Maybe that’s the way all this is supposed to pan out. After all, we’re just the sheep now being herded along by Sara.

Or maybe it’s someone else who’d doing the herding.

One thing’s for sure. Gerridian isn’t in any great hurry to confront us. I guess that can only be a good thing.

We finally passed into a different type of forest this afternoon. Though it’s thicker and darker, Armbranch assured me he senses nothing untoward here. If feels different, too. More alive. When we cut firewood, the interior of the branches was more wood than water. And that set me wondering about what else might be different in here. Who knows? Maybe Armbranch is lying. Maybe he’s just telling me one thing while telling the others something completely different. Everything is too calm here. Apart from the traps the other day we haven’t encountered a single threat. Not that this leaves me with a false sense of security. It doesn’t. I’m on edge all the time. Judging by how everyone else is so quiet I guess they’re edgy, too.

Must sign off now. Kanar’s staring across the clearing straight at me and I’m really not in the mood for showing him anything new on the laptop tonight. I don’t think he appreciates it anyway.

Why are they growing so cold to me? I can’t understand it. Was it something to do with what I said to Cutter yesterday morning? I doubt it. That sense of distance was already widening before then. It’s something else, something I can’t put my finger on.

One thing’s for sure. I’m not telling any more jokes. That terrible internal laugher is gone now and I don’t want to risk it coming back.

Hardly slept last night. Cutter was releasing his usual disgusting noises and it’s really starting to bug me. I confronted him this morning about it, told him it was amazing that someone who could analyse the wind so easily was unaware of his own stink. When he tried to laugh it off I warned him that if he drank that stuff again tonight I’d have no problem waking him every time he farted. That wiped the smirk from his face quick enough.

They’re busy back home at Singleton. Ana’s happy enough to hold off going down into the tunnels for now. They’ve barricaded the basement trapdoor with piles of building blocks and strategically placed containers of petrol around the house. They’re using plastic food containers and, for safety reasons, they’ll keep the lids on until they get any hint the shadow might reappear. Maya’s truly alone now. When I heard about the trapdoor it was hard not to imagine she’d been buried down there.

That reporter’s been hassling O’Heir again and Justin thinks it might be a great idea if we told him everything and gave him a one-way tour beneath the cottage. I can’t help thinking it might be a good idea, too. Impossible, though. The guy’s only doing his job and if any of his colleagues know what he’s working on it could bring undue attention down on us. O’Heir might be a good cop. But he’s only a local. A missing person –especially a missing person who’s connected with the local cop– might bring a squad of detectives noising around.

For now, O’Heir plans to fob him off by giving him details about another old case. With luck it will keep him away until this whole thing is resolved and I’m back. Then that reporter is welcome to write or blackmail us all he wants.

But at least the landscape here is changing. The forests are becoming thicker and this evening we saw what looked like hills far off across the bog.

Now I’ve got to gather more firewood. I’m beginning to think if that’s all Sara brought me along for. To gather firewood and keep them entertained. My companions are becoming more distant by the day. And Armbranch seems more and more with ‘them’ instead of me. Earlier, when I learned about Maya’s burial, I longed to tell him about it. But he rarely came near me. And when he did it was only to make small talk.

In fact, nobody here seems to include me in anything right now. Even Kanar seems to be avoiding me and spends much of his free time just sitting in some kind of trance.

If nothing else, at least the occasional humming sounds he makes is a welcome break from the silence.

That laughter stayed in my head all last night. It got so bad that when I was on guard duty I started to imagine it was real and coming from Kanar’s mouth. I soon proved that to be nonsense because when I talked with him I could still here it and, great magician or not, I’ve never met anyone yet who can talk and laugh with many voices at the same time.

No. It’s something else, something that’s really starting to bug me. I guess I should tell Sara about it. And I know I certainly should tell Armbranch. But he’s so distant lately. He’s spending too much time with Cutter. I don’t like that. No. Regardless of his motives, I don’t like the way he’s abandoning me. This place is changing him. I can feel it. Even when he spends time with me now he only makes small talk. I can see a dullness in his eyes, too, that alarms me. It’s almost like a part of this place has leaked in there and is slowly blinding him to reality.

Trudged along the bog again today. What a shame we couldn’t have fitted the Maymen’s’ transport through the portal. I guess they could have deflated the balloon and fitted it through easily. The gondola would have been the problem. It probably could have been dismantled and reassembled, but the Maymen seemed happy enough to stay outside. Don’t blame them. I doubt if they’d ever intended coming this far anyway.

And the going isn’t too rough. The ground is solid and holds our weight well in most places even if it is springy. It’s the vastness of the bog that stretches off into the western horizon that bothers everyone. Even through the binoculars I can’t see any sign of anything beyond it.

At least Justin and Ana are enjoying themselves. He took her up to the Newgrange this morning. It’s a Neolithic burial site (or ancient temple) and I can’t help wondering if they were seeking some spiritual guidance there. Knowing Justin, it was probably something like that.

Shortly after sunrise Armbranch took off for a look around. He returned within twenty minutes with news that traps had been laid around the camp during the night. By the looks of them they were pretty lethal things. He showed us a hole in the ground filled with a kind of misty green substance that clung to anything it touched and slowly burned it away. And that was nothing compared to the strands of silky material that dangled from tree to tree. Just the slightest contact with that substance was enough to cause it to shatter into sections and slice anything within striking distance to shreds.

It cut through Kanar’s knife easier than paper.

The traps had been laid in a crescent pattern around our camp, as if to ‘nudge’ us on in an easterly direction away from the bog. We held our route, though. It’s obvious Gerridian knows where we are now, and it felt more like he was still probing instead of seriously trying to harm us. Psychologically, these traps didn’t have much of an effect. I guess we were all expecting something like that. When I said it might be useful to bring some of that green mist to use to light our fire later, everyone laughed.

And it was good to hear that sound. For a few brief moments it brought a sense of life to this place that made it seem almost normal. Yet, as we trudged onwards today, that laugher lingered in my head and became a mocking, hateful sound.

I can’t help thinking they were laughing at me and not my joke.

We took no chances last night. Shortly after nightfall, we heard bubbling sounds from the bog. They only lasted a half hour or so, but we kept watch two at a time after that. I was drawn on guard with Kanar. We heard nothing through the night. Absolutely nothing except for Cutter’s snoring and the occasional release of ‘wind’. Cutter had been drinking some foul smelling concoction shortly before he rolled up beside the fire and I guess it was this that made his guts that bit more active. It was funny, though. And it added a welcome touch of normality to this place. The only thing I was afraid of was that he’d get too close to the fire and those mini detonations might ignite.

I guess that was never a real possibility because our fire didn’t burn well. The growth we found along the edge of the bog was hard to light. Sounds crazy, but it felt like it was fighting us. Every time Sara used her tinderbox, the flames just fizzled away into dancing sparks. The same thing happened when I tried my cigarette lighter. In fact, my flame didn’t even blacken the kindling. Putting the flame to the sticks felt more like putting it to concrete.

In the end Kanar doused the sticks with some black powder he had and the fire eventually took. Even then, it stayed weak. The flames burned low and loose, almost like they were cowering within the branches. But at least they burned. And, if anything, it was harder to put them out this morning than it was to light them. When Cutter poured a pot of water over them the water immediately became a cloud of hissing steam. We were lucky nobody got scalded.

We used dry earth to cover our campfire. Don’t know if it was fully out, though. No matter how much earth we piled up on it, it was never enough to stop it smoking. Maybe it’s still smouldering now. Who cares? And it didn’t stop us lighting another fire here tonight. After trudging along the edge of the bog all day, we’re all exhausted. Saw nothing. Well, apart from a few clouds of mist hovering over the morass, we saw nothing. I knew already that our route would be tough. Armbranch told me last night.

No news from at home. Guess it’s their turn to wait and wait and wait now.

We’ve started moving along the edge of a morass. And that was certainly something Sara wasn’t expecting. Perhaps it was somehow ‘laid down’ here since her spotter came this way the other day. Guess it doesn’t make much difference how it got here now. At first glance it looked the same as a bog back home. On closer inspection, thought, we saw that the rushes, grasses, and bushes had a peculiar glazed look about them. Dead. That’s what they looked like. Though the vegetation was certainly alive, the whole place felt dead and artificial. Nothing like the bogs back home. Even in winter they’re full of life and growth. No. This place felt really dead, like the land had passed away a long time ago and was buried within this . . . well, whatever Gerridian’s conjured up around it.

Yet, despite the deadness, it’s impossible to look out across the morass without imagining some kind of life existed there. Bad life, probably. But life nonetheless. It smells, too. The air is tinged with the stink of rotten fruit. Some kind of gas, I suppose. And it’s odd that I’m the only one that smells it. When I mentioned it to the others earlier, they denied smelling anything.

Sara’s reconnoitring ahead with Armbranch and Kanar. It’s the first time she’s taken Armbranch on a scouting trip, and I could sense he didn’t want to go with her. He prefers to work along. Don’t blame him. But he went with her anyway. Though I doubt they’ll find much, it should be interesting to hear what he has to say later.

Must help Cutter now. There’s a tufty, flammable plant growing along the rim of the bog. Hot food again tonight. Hooray.

Moving again. The smog hasn’t lifted yet. Nor has it got any worse. It’s just there, over us all the time; and it unsettles me no end. This trek is dragging on and on and I have to admit I thought things would be rougher in here. I wish they were. At least if Gerridian’s empire was crawling with nastiness, everything would probably get resolved quicker. I’d expected to be on my way home by now.

Sara doesn’t know how long before the real action kicks in. When we reach the horseshoe mountains, she says. At least Kanar’s more positive. He told me this morning that when Gerridian makes his move, he’ll make it quickly. He also thinks Gerridian may not know our position. He could have laid that smog spell over a vast area to try and draw us into making mistakes.

At least Armbranch isn’t too bored. He was up before dawn examining the vegetation around our camp. He even took some samples, although he had to wait until all the liquid drained from the twigs and leaves before storing them away. I’ve no idea why he wants samples. Perhaps he can learn something from them. Or perhaps it’s just his nature. Either way, it made me feel better to watch him do it. He’s not as afraid in here as I am. Nervous, yes. But not afraid.

It’ll be dark soon. Cutter found some dead wood earlier so at least tonight we’ll have the luxury of a fire and some hot food. Can’t wait.

We’ve stayed put today. Sara said we needed to rest but I suspect she called a halt for different reasons. The sun looked different this morning when it rose. Or, should I say, everything around us looked different when the sun rose. Darker. Like smog was filtering the sunlight before releasing it in clumps of dirty shadows. Cutter told me earlier he thought another spell was in the air. I agree. It sure looked like a spell. Yes. A spell layered over Kanar’s spell. I think that’s the real reason we haven’t pushed forward today. Sara doesn’t want to make too many movements. She told us to use tree cover wherever we went and not to make any noise. She even tried to stop us talking until Kanar mentioned it was probably good we talked among ourselves because we’d go insane otherwise.

He was probably right. Armbranch and I spent a lot of time talking today. Not about this place. About home –or rather my home. For the first time in weeks he raised the subject of returning there with me. I knew he was simply trying to distract me from our current situation. But I didn’t mind. I was happy enough to talk about home and show him some more pictures. I was also happy enough to have some proper daylight time to check on things back in Singleton. Everything’s cool there. Sounds like they’re taking a break, too. Justin even plans to bring Ana out for a few hours later.

One thing I did notice about this smog. It didn’t stop the solar roll charging up the laptop. If anything, it charged quicker. If it was a spell up there, it was probably a weak one. Sara was glad to hear that news. Just briefly, the lines on her face seemed to smooth out a little. I’m actually starting to pity her a little. She’s carrying a great burden through here with her, and it shows. And though I’d be interested to know what that burden is, I’m not going to ask unless it becomes essential. I’ve enough on my mind already.

Another long, hard slog today. And we’ve no fire tonight to comfort us or provide hot food. So far we’ve been finding lots of dead trees to use as firewood. We’re in fresher growth now. Or at least it looks fresher. When I chopped a branch earlier, the insides spilled out as loose as water. It stank, too, stank of compost and rotten leaves and shit. That branch symbolised this whole place. It’s exterior is nothing but a façade covering something shallow and false. If I can quote a song again, I’d use The National’s ‘Fake Empire’ to describe this world. Gerridian’s fake empire.

It’s impossible to know what comfort anyone could draw from such a place.

We heard the tracking spell many times last night. It’s getting closer all the time and I’m sure it’s going to start passing right over us soon. The others don’t seem too bothered about it. Nor were they worried about the red lights that appeared in the sky just before dawn. Those lights flickered and flared for a while, like thunderless lightning. In my mind, though, they were another warning, and I can’t help thinking that all these signs are simply the drool of some terrible monster dripping down around us just before it takes that big, fatal bite.

Time to check in on Maya now. Surrounded here by such falseness, I need to see something genuine and warm. Even if she’s in a coma, she never fails to lift my heart.

Kanar’s spell is weakening. Last night, shortly after the moon dipped below the horizon, we heard a sucking, slobbering sound somewhere off to the north. It wasn’t coming from within the woods. It was high. Real high. And it lingered for a while before fading away. We’ve heard it four times since then. Always north, and always closer. Cutter ventured out of our camp shortly after sunrise and when he returned his face was ashen and streaked in places with what appeared to be burn marks. Minor. Like a mild sunburn. That’s when we discovered the spell was fading. Cutter had gone to its edge to analyse the wind, and that’s where he got burned. He said that Gerridian had loosened a powerful tracker spell. It was sweeping the land in a left-right-left pattern and when it passed over him, the energy from its ‘eye’ burned his skin.

It didn’t see him, though. Nor did he think it detected Kanar’s shield. But the very fact he’d been burned meant our cover was weakening. Kanar didn’t appear too bothered by that. I was. So was Armbranch. When we quizzed Kanar about it, he told us not to worry. All spells shrank, and we should reach the horseshoe mountains long before we were exposed.

I’d like to believe him. Honestly. But there’s something so strong and energetic about that sucking sound that makes me feel more like a fly hiding behind a curtain while someone beats the curtain with a swat. Our spell doesn’t need to weaken. All that thing needs is to hit the right spot. Then Gerridian will loosen everything he has on us.

If nothing else, the forest is getting denser. This allows us to move quicker. I figure we made maybe five or six miles today and Sara wants to push on into the night. Good idea. I’d happily push on until tomorrow and beyond if my muscles let me. Bit my thighs are aching, and my calves and ankles feel especially weak. The terrain is too rough. I only hope we don’t have any accidents in the dark.

Daidogan doesn’t want to sleep, either. O’Heir told me earlier he had to order her to bed this morning because she looked so tired. She’d been up for two days straight, prowling around the house and gardens trying to spot the shadow. She sees it as an early warning system. She figures the shadow will somehow know the correct time to attempt a return through the gateway. That’s when it’ll come closer. In turn, that should indicate to us that something might be about to happen here.

It’s such a great idea I’m surprised nobody else (especially me) thought of it before now. There’s only one problem. The laptop is my main defence here –at least against the Basilod. If I keep it on at all times waiting for Daidogan’s signal, the battery will never last.

Same old shit. Nothing ever runs smoothly.

Stayed low yesterday. Doubt if we made any more than half a mile the whole day. Something’s following us. Though Kanar’s protecting us with some type of spell, he says it only works if we creep along at a snail’s pace. And it’s not like it makes the going in here any easier. If anything, gliding through the trees, around bushes, and over the countless hillocks and humps, while trying not to make any sudden movements is excruciatingly hard. My muscles are aching from the strain. It’s at times like this I’m grateful this place is so dead. Had there been insects or animals here, I’m sure I’d have cracked up by now.

But Kanar figures it’s working. The spell he cast (and I’m sure it’s something similar to what Garigan showed us, only more advanced) seems to creep along with us. At times it’s like were moving along inside some invisible cloud, a cloud that sometimes shifts with the breeze and forces us to occasionally veer off our southwesterly course

It’s the strangest sensation, moving with the spell. And most of the time I can’t decide whether I’m terrified or calm playing this cat and mouse game with whatever Gerridian sent to track us.

Only one of Sara’s spotters returned yesterday. I never thought I’d pity an insect, but the poor thing was so battered looking it was hard not to feel something. It’s back in its box now. Recovering. But at least it didn’t suffer for nothing. It brought enough information back to mould a few new contours to Sara’s map. She showed us the map last night. We’re moving towards a horseshoe shaped hump of mountains that surrounds what appears to be a lake. We’ll find Gerridian there, she says. I’ve no doubt she’s correct –but only if he doesn’t find us first.

Things are heating up back home, too. The shadow came within spitting distance of Singleton last night and lingered for a while in the trees behind the mill house before slipping away again. Checking the house out. That’s what Daidogan figures it was doing. She thought it was a good sign, a sign that we’re getting closer to our objective. The shadow was waiting, she said. And, oddly, that brought me immeasurable comfort.

For once it’s nice to know I’m not the only one waiting for something to happen.