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“Why would I want to see you?” I stick out my tongue, which feels like it’s been in my armpit.

I could do with a drink, so I get gingerly to my feet, and ignoring Warden, I make my way over to a small spring half hidden in the heather and surrounded by flat blue stones. It bubbles up globs of cold water which I hastily suck down.

“So, you didn’t want to speak.” Warden is standing over me.

“No,” I growl, wiping my mouth with the scarf. “I have to find my mate. That’s all that matters.”

Warden backs up a couple of paces. “What happened to Alice?” he says.

The growl I release is one which would be at home in the Night Lands. “You don’t get to say her name.”

“What happened to your mate?” Warden snarls back, planting his back hooves in a way I know from experience means he isn’t going to be moved.

“The queen took her. But I’d already…” I shake my head, wishing I hadn’t as my vision blurs. “I hadn’t told her about the curse. She was cross with me.”

“Curse?”

“Only one Wyrm can survive at any one time in the Yeavering. When my young is born, I die.” I raise my head to the sky. “But the curse isn’t what concerns me. It is whether my sweet Alice will survive a birthing. My mother didn’t. The queen says she will ensure she does if I pledge my loyalty to her.”

I fist the heather next to the spring, careful not to pull it up but at the same time, clutching it hard enough my claws dig into my flesh through the twisted branches. I can’t, I won’t let Warden show how much this means to me. It is a weakness.

And the Lambton Wyrm is not weak.

“Then you need to get her back and force the queen to break the curse,” he says, simply.

I laugh, or at least I make a noise like laughter, rasping from my throat.

“You make it sound easy. She’s a Faerie queen. She’stheFaerie queen. My earth magic is no match for her elementals.”

“You don’t need to match her magic,” Warden snorts. “You need to offer her something she can’t refuse.”

“She has my mate. I have nothing else to give.”

“Fenrother, you are the Lambton Wyrm. Queen Mab cannot have you, and she cannot control you. It’s the reason she sends you, me, the Barghest, the Bluecap, and all the others to the Night Lands. She wants control. You have to show her shecannot have it at any price. Instead you need to give her your rebellion.”

I wipe my bloodied hands on my trousers without a care. “Then I will go to the Faerie hills and take her back,” I growl.

Warden dances from one side to another. “And how do you propose to attack and beat all the Faerie within?” he says.

“I’ll deal with that problem when I come to it. I am the Lambton Wyrm.” I roar at the sky. “I take back that which belongs to me.”

Warden lets out a short, harsh breath. “Let me come with you. It’s about time I spilt Faerie blood.” His front hoof beats out a regular pattern on the ground, each hit hollow like an ancient drum. “And I know others who will join you too.”

“I don’t needothers.”

Warden stops moving, thankfully, or I might have had to do him some damage.

“You do. If you’re to stand a chance of getting through the elemental defences.” He’s suddenly making far more sense.

“So, I take you.” I give him a long stare. “And you’re my distraction.”

“We need others,” he growls.

“We? Who is this we?” I respond, getting to my feet and making a mental note never to accept food or drink from Meg of Maldon again.

“Me.” Warden looks affronted. “And the Barghest, provided we break him out of Lord Guyzance’s dungeons first.”

“I don’t want to do that.” I sniff. “Last time I released a Barghest, he bit me.”