Raven frowned suspiciously, his eyes flicking between Oak and the
candle he offered.
“Go ahead,” Oak said, offering it again, “Let's get this
shambles over with.” His face was so smug and full of knowing that
I had to fight the urge to slap him.
Frown still in place, Raven took the candle, placing it in the centre
of the well. Robert returned from the kitchen, jug of water clasped
in unsteady hands.
“Are you sure you're okay?” I asked, touching his arm.
“I'm fine, really,” he said with a weak smile, “Just a bit
gippy.”
Raven took the jug, pouring the water into the well around the
candle. Producing a box of matches from his pocket, he set fire to
the candle while mumbling under his breath. I couldn't for the life
of me make out what he was saying, but it didn't sound good.
Almost immediately the room began to darken, the walls and ceiling
becoming black and featureless, all except the face of the Nomad, who
looked on with a serene gaze.
