Chapter 1

There was something unnerving about somewhere that you had never been before, but deep down you had a feeling that you knew it, that you had been there before, but the questions when and why cannot be answered. This was what Morgana was feeling right now.

The trees were pressing in on all sides, impossibly close together. It was getting dark, the few rays of sunlight that had managed to fight their way though the merciless trees were dying out. Morgana knew she had to get out of the woods, but she didn't know the way, she couldn't quite remember how she had got there. She looked around to try and gather her bearings.

Her stomach lurched.

She was not alone.

There was a camp; there were other people around. There were three tents, standing up close to each other, people had been living in the area, and for quite a long time it seemed. There were cooking pots scattered around the floor and what looked like a fire that had been recently stamped out by an urgent foot. But there was something more, something eerie. It wasn't the clothes hanging in the trees, like some dead animal, it wasn't the spell books, it wasn't the randomly discarded sword.

It was the blood.

There was blood everywhere.

The smell of metal filled the air, it was so pungent it made Morgana's eyes water, the crimson colour stained the grass all around. What had happened here?

There was a voice, a voice she recognised, a voice that she had heard so many times, it sounded as if it was in pain, or deep sorrow. Morgana screwed up her eyes; she didn't want to see what had happened. Her heart was pounding in her ears; the sight of the blood made her feel as if she was about to be sick.

There was a sudden jolt in the pit her stomach, as if her horse had made an unexpected jump and landed back on the ground with surprising force. Morgana had worked out what had happened, even without seeing it. She backed away, her eyes still tight shut, shaking her head slowly in disbelief. But she wasn't looking at what was behind her, Morgana's eyes snapped open and she found herself tripping over a tree root and falling backwards.

Falling into her own bed.

Morgana gasped and woke up, a ring of gold flashed in her eyes as she sat up abruptly. A set of draws near her bed suddenly fell out, but she ignored them. What worried her most was about what happened in her dream.

Cold sweat trickled down the side of her face, like a snake sliding delicately towards its prey, as she remembered how the many dreams she had had, seeped into reality like water through a crack. Or blood.

There was an awful lot of blood.