Twice the tree-thick timbers rocked backwards and forwards before the locks smashed into a thousand pieces. 'You are

mine!' he hissed, entering the courtyard.

'NO!' shouted Archer, leaping down the tower steps four at a time. Tears of rage filled his eyes and anger boiled in his heart. 'I shall avenge Kyot's death even without the Bow of Orm, and I will bring his body out of the depths of night to see the sunlight once more. Do you hear me, foulest Nightmare, dirtier of daylight? I shall drive you out of my house before the new sun rises!'

'Run!' mocked Krulshards, moving forward. 'Hide, puller

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aof toy bows, but I will find you and keep you beyond the candlelight for ever.'

'Run!' replied Archer, coldly, stepping into the courtyard and necking another arrow on to the string. 'You have dared to enter my house without my leave, bringing black news of despair.'

'I bring more than black news!' spat the Master of Nightmares, 'I bring defeat and darkness to all Elundium!'

Archer drew the bow taut and released the arrow at the centre of the malice, putting all his strength behind the shot, but Krulshards laughed, opened the malice and again caught the arrow in mid-flight, throwing it harmlessly across the cobbles.

'You cannot hurt me, foolish Archer. You gave away the only bow in all Elundium with that power and it now lies broken in the City of Night beneath your son's body!'

The anger in Archer's heart turned icy cold as he remembered Nevian's words, 'Keep safe the Bow of Orm, and let no other hand butyours upon the string until the Nightmare is dead. Use none but the f ne-forged gla.s.s arrow-heads of Clatterford if you wish to pierce the centre of the darkness.'

'I have been a blind fool, over-anxious to let Kyot do my work. I should never have let him lead the Archers of Stumble Hill into battle before the Gates of Night. It was my place with the Bow of Orm to stand against this Nightmare.'

Rubbing away a tear upon his sleeve Archer reached back into the quiver and took the third arrow, cursing its blunt steel edge and wishing his hand was closing upon the cold crystal blades of Clatterford. Wetting the dull steel point with his tongue he necked the arrow on to his bow and faced the dark shape that stood between the ruined doors.

'Krulshards!' he cried, moving quickly across the courtyard until his back was firmly braced against the solid oak shooting b.u.t.t. 'I remember your name, Nightmare, and the curse you laid on Elundium. I am the Wayhouse Keeper of Stumble Hill, set upon the Greenway's edge to defeat your foul kind.

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Even without the Bow of Orm I have the power to send an

arrow strike into your black heart. Look to the tattoo upon my arm!'

Krulshards hesitated, wrapping the malice tightly about his shoulders. Perhaps this Archer had more strength. Perhaps he did have the power to stand against the darkness. 'Kerzolde!'

he rasped, pushing his Captain before him. 'Take the Archer's bow and break it across your knee.'

Kerzolde rushed at the Archer, a broad-bladed spear in his good claw, only to be knocked off his feet, screaming, as Archer's arrow pierced his armour and sank deep into his chest. Kerzolde crawled back to his Master, clutching at the embedded shaft with his broken claw.

'Guard the door!' Krulshards hissed, wrenching the blade of the arrow free and pushing Kerzolde roughly out of his path.

Archer acted quickly in the few moments it took Krulshards to pull the arrow. He dug deeply into his jerkin pocket to find the spare bow string and with it he bound himself against the oak shooting b.u.t.t. 'None will pa.s.s this spot,' he whispered through trembling lips, pulling the string so tight that it cut painfully into his sides. Now his mind would be free to face the Master of Nightmares. No matter how much he wanted to run there was no escape. Grimly he nocked another arrow on to the string and sang Kyot's name aloud as he brought his eyes level with the Master of Nightmares.

'Now, Nightmare, you shall know who is the Keeper of Stumble Hill. By the light that burns on my arm you shall not enter this Wayhouse. It is closed to all your foul kind.'

Krulshards threw the malice back across his shoulder and charged at Archer, a black-bladed spear in his hands. Archer bent the bow until it cried out, and loosed the arrow at the

Nightmare's heart. He laughed to see a ragged tear in Krulshard's shoulder and knew that Kyot had used well the great Bow of Orm before his death. Archer's laughter turned into a scream as Krulshards' spear blade struck his chest,

shattering his rib cage, tearing through his chest to pin him on to the shooting b.u.t.t.

'Kyot,Ilove you!' he cried, grinding his teeth against the pain, but lifting his eyes he saw Krulshards on his knees, both hands clutching on the arrow-shaft in his chest.

Krulshards rose to his feet, the malice boiling with hatred, and snapped the arrow-shaft in two, closing his fingers around the steel arrow-head. He advanced across the cobbles, molten steel from the arrow-head dripping between his fingers. Slowly, painfully, and without hope, the old Archer reached back into his quiver, knowing the steel was no match for the Nightmare, wishing with all his heart that his fingers could touch an arrow from Clatterford, with sunlight trapped in the cool gla.s.s blade. That would have found a way through the malice and it would have avenged Kyot's death.

'Death! Darkness!' spat Krulshards, throwing his weight against the spear shaft, forcing the blade deeper into the oak post. Archer screamed as the steel bit into him, his hand gripping the smooth polished shaft of the arrow. With the last of his strength he took the arrow and necked it on to the bow. s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g his eyes tightly shut he cursed all Nightmare shapes, drew the string tight and let the arrow go, aiming it deep into the black shadows of the malice. Bright blazed the tattooed owl upon his arm, lighting a path through the shadowy folds that threatened to engulf him. 'With this arrow I have fulfilled my pledges to the Granite King, and kept this Wayhouse safe through the darkest reaches of the night.'

'You shall not see the new sun rise!' Krulshards screamed at him as the arrow knocked him backwards, forcing him across the cobbles, slicing through his rotten flesh and cutting him to the bone. 'You will die slowly for this,' he hissed, rage dribbling through his quivering lips as he advanced on Archer, his hands outstretched to tear at his face. Archer looked up through his tears at the paling dawn sky, knowing that he lacked the strength to take another arrow from the quiver.

7.

i

'I have won the morning,' he whispered, hearing far away the first blackbird break the dawn silence, filling the Greenway with sweet music. Krulshards' shadow blocked out the dawn light as he spread the malice in terrible hatred above Archer's head.

'Trueflightorm,' Krulshards whispered in a voice heavy with the gloat of victory, 'you will pay dearly for your skill with the bow.'

He reached back into the shadows of the malice, unhooked a long curved knife and tested the cutting edge against Archer's throat, drawing a fine trickle of blood across the black metal blade. 'I could kill you now, Archer, with one stroke of this blade, but that is far too humble a death for one who dares to stand against me, the Master of Nightbeasts.

No, oh no!' he hissed, putting his face so close to Archer's that the old man could almost taste the foul odour of death.

'I shall leave you alive, Trueflight, the greatest Archer in all Elundium. You will be blind to your quarry and unable to reach into the quiver or take up the bow.'

Laughing, Krulshards gripped both of Archer's hands, raised the curved blade to flash in the dawn sunlight and brought it slicing down across the bowman's wrists. Archer screamed, straining against the binding bowstring, but there was no escape. The tattoo of the owl in blue and gold burst into blinding light above his bleeding stump.

'Curse you, Nevian,' Krulshards hissed, burying his head

from the light in the malice and reaching for Archer's eyes with his bone black fingers. Archer sobbed through the pain, gasping in shallow breaths as he twisted his head from left to right trying to avoid the Nightmare fingernails that tore at his face.

'I can see you without eyes,' he cried, as the Nightmare's nails hooked and gouged into his face, 'and I will avenge the death of my son, Kyot, without my hands upon the bow. Mark well my words, Nightmare, for I shall follow you beyond

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death. The Great Bow of Orm will haunt you and bring light into the City of Night.'

Slowly Archer lifted his bleeding tattoo arm and thrust it through the folds of the malice into Krulshards' face, and the tattoo burned the Nightmare's raw muscles with the colours of a new morning, driving the Master of Nightbeasts out beyond the Wayhouse doors on to the Greenway.

'I shall follow you,' Archer wept through b.l.o.o.d.y tears, tensing himself for the next attack, but the Wayhouse was empty. Krulshards had fled, taking his Captainbeast, Kerzolde, with him. Early sunlight filled the courtyard, falling gently in a golden halo around Archer's bowed head, and he wept, mumbling over and over as his life blood soaked into the cobbles. He did not feel the sun move through the stations of the day, nor see the shadows draw long in the evening, nor hear nor sense the lone figure enter through the broken doorway.

'Archer, oh Archer,' a soft voice called out, 'what has the Nightmare done to you?'