There have been no other quarrels but those of small-town life. I'll send you a separate report for you to read during your sleepless nights. If they can't summon Sloth, nothing can...

After shifting his favourite soft cushion pillow further up, Nick plumped down on the rocking chair by the open window. He reached for the thick book on the nearby table. The sun shone on his face, its heat radiating to the rest of his body. This was it. He wasn't going to move until Mother placed her Sunday roast on the table.

Sundays were for sleeping in, eating ridiculous amounts of food and devouring books for dessert; nothing else. It was the only day of the week that he didn't need to worry about becoming the hunting patrol's catch of the day.

He opened the book, ready to dive into the world of giant Ician dogs travelling hundreds of miles through fierce winds and icy snow. It was far more interesting than bouncing up and down a saddle or boasting about his non-existent archery skills. Plus nobody would complain if he accidentally dozed off instead of guarding the horses.

A post-breakfast nap sounded heavenly. Just him and his thoughts... all alone. His eyes were closing already.

"Wake up, son of Sloth! We're going on a hunting trip to cheer Fox up." Alex's head dangled above him, quickly followed by Seb, who stuck his head through the window as well.

Nick feverishly turned the page, pretending to be busy. These muttonheads weren't going to ruin his lazy day again.

"Yes, we've decided that you need to come too." Seb was nodding like the jack-in-the-box that Abby was playing with on the rug by the fireplace. "No excuses. We know you could use the extra practice, and it would mean the world to Fox."

Nick raised an eyebrow. The puddingbrain didn't need any favours. Not after what he had done. Father and George had spent half the night looking for the colt. And although they had managed to lure it back to the village with some carrots, they were still fast asleep to recover from the mission.

"I can't. I promised Abby we would read fairytales later."

Abby's big blue eyes peered at him, then at Seb and Alex. She abandoned her toys and headed towards them, her hands firmly planted on her hips. "Yes, you two and King Muttonhead are always out with Nick. Today is my turn."

He grinned, his finger tracking the paragraph where he had left off. "As you can see, I have other plans. Maybe next time."

"We had a feeling you were going to say that." Seb bumped Alex in the side. "I have a message for you. Your Lord wishes to remind you that you'll have plenty of time to read once autumn hits these lands."

"Tell your father I want to read today too."

"You want to read every day, goofball." Alex chuckled, her nose wrinkling up.

"Meh. Why can't you accept that I prefer carrying a book instead of a sword? I bet neither of you have touched another book since that winter Lady Karen taught us all to read."

"I did. When Father told me to give all his boring books to you." Seb rested his head on his hand, leaning on the windowsill. A smirk was never far away. "I don't understand how you can keep reading. Laneby doesn't have that many books. Don't you know all of them by heart now?"

"Father recently got me new ones from Sundale. They have bookshops there—actual places where you can buy books."

Mother joined him by the window, keeping a protesting Abby in her arms. "And he bought them so you'd have something new to read during the long autumn and winter nights. Lord Brandon is right, Nicky. It's such a beautiful summer day. You and your sister can read all you want when it's raining outside. My joints are telling me we'll soon get plenty of that."

For the past week, Mother had said the exact same thing. One day she was bound to be right, but the argument had already lost all of its power.

Not that it mattered. Not even half an hour later,  he was standing in front of the stable; dagger in his pouch and sword on his back.

He snorted as Fox struggled to heave a saddle onto Old Billy. Only a Muttonhead like Fox would saddle a hunting horse and leave no room to put the game Alex was going to catch.

Nick said nothing. Though he didn't like seeing the white stallion getting saddled, it would be yet another argument he was going to lose.

"Do you already know which stories you're gonna tell us?" Fox asked as he was rearranging the stirrup leather.

"New ones." Nick beamed as he was once more appointed the official story-teller of their group. "I learnt so much about Ice. The country is so far up north—even beyond Silvermark—that the sun doesn't rise during the winter moons. Oh, and their King is called Grey Alder because he's known for his pessimism and excessive miserliness."

Fox cocked his head, scratching it with his bandaged hand. "His excessive what?"

"He doesn't like spending his gold."

"That Alderman would be great friends with Father." Fox patted Billy on the neck, sighing deeply. "He and mother were arguing all morning because..."

Nick let out a small sigh. He didn't care about Fox's problems, not when Seb appeared in the corner of his eye, carrying a basket with Lady Karen's signature napkins—an embroidered black oak tree in a field of light green—folded over it. 

"Mother prepared us lunch." Seb huffed and puffed before dropping it in front of Billy. Instantly, the horse dove for the apples in the basket, bumping into Fox, who tottered before falling to the ground.

Nick jerked Billy's rein, no harder than needed. "Bad! Those are ours."

"Let him, Nick," Alex said, appearing from the stable. "Lady Karen doesn't understand that the purpose of a hunting trip is that we catch our own food."

Seb helped a sulking Fox get back on his feet. "You know my mother. She thinks we will starve."

"I don't mind." Nick licked his lips. Last time Seb's mother had made them lunch, he had spent the entire day eating cakes and fat bacon sandwiches. Perhaps the expedition to whatever remote part of the forest wouldn't be so terrible after all.

He ate his first muffin when the first twig cracked under his feet; they had barely left the village. After being the last to trudge up the hill, he treated himself to a second snack. By the time they arrived at the open place in the south-eastern part of the Forest of Lane, two more muffins had found their way to his stomach. According to Alex, who was simply repeating what Lord Brandon had said when they had passed through the area a few days earlier, the long grass was the perfect hiding spot for partridges and pheasants.

"So that's what we're gonna catch," she concluded with a nod.

The only thing Nick wanted to catch was sleep. Maybe Alex was right. Maybe he was the God of Sloth reborn.

"But first lunch." Seb decided. "I can't hunt on an empty stomach."

Alex slammed her hand to her head. "Now you're just encouraging your mother to keep on making food. We should catch our own; tell her we don't need it."

"Then don't eat." Nick put his hands on his belly. "My stomach is big enough to eat for two."

"Not only the son of Sloth, but also of Gluttony." She stuck out her tongue. "But suit yourself, I'm a better hunter when I can feel the rush of hunger."

While he, Seb, and Fox had some ham sandwiches, Nick recounted the legend of the Ician Summer Dragon and Winter Bear who had once had joined forces to drive away enormous deer-eating woolly spiders, but now fought each other to claim power over the northern sky.

Fox was gawking at him with open mouth, uttering a gasp every now and then, and abandoning most of his bread.

"... and thus as the leaves begin to fall, the blind bear enters the cave where the colossal serpent awaits him and attacks, prepared to swallow him whole."

"Are dragons real?" Fox asked. "Do you think we'll be able to find one, here in the forest?"

"Of course not." He paused to finish munching on the crust of his bread. "The foreword of the book explains that it's one of the stories the Icians tell their children to explain why winter lasts so long there. The only thing that comes close to a dragon is a magician, and you won't find any of those here either."

Not unless Fox's fire-controlling skills were of magical origin. Nick grabbed another muffin and stuffed it into his mouth. He had a hunch his friend was a magician but never said it out loud. 

In the northern kingdoms of Silvermark and Ice, magicians were free to practise magic out in the open but here in the Greenlands magic was not tolerated at all. People considered it a sinful power that corrupts otherwise fine men. Not that he had ever left the greater Laneby region, but he had never encountered anyone who trusted a magician.

"And if I do see one, I will kill them." Fox got up from the grass, pretending to chop off someone's head with the stick he had been carrying all the way from Laneby.

"Unless he kills you first." Seb turned around to grab Fox's legs. For the second time that day, King Muttonhead fell flat on his face.

The two crawled over the forest floor, wrestling like two wolf cubs over the last bit of meat. Not that Fox had any chance of beating Seb, who was at least a head taller than Nick, and easily twice as strong. Still, it took surprisingly long before Fox's cheers dissolved into grunts of frustration.

Nick took another muffin from Billy's bag. On second thought, there was no way the muttonhead could be a magician. It was impossible. Besides, Lord Brandon would never allow one to live in his village.

"Seb, it's time to stop." Alex tapped him on the back so he'd get off Fox. "We should start before you chase all the animals away."

"Alex is right, guys," Nick added. "And I've come up with a plan. It's perfect."

"Let me guess." She cocked her head, grinning. "It involves you having to do the least amount of work."

"Only because I've already done the most important work." He massaged his temples, only to whimper as he received a poke in his side. "Listen to my plan before you judge, Miss Alexandra. You and Fox should stay here, bows ready to fire, while Seb and I sneak away to find some of those pheasants."

"It sounds like a great idea, Nick," Seb said before Alex could interrupt. "Those dumb animals will run straight into the rain of arrows."

But the plan was only the plan, sadly.

In practice, the animals were far more unpredictable than Nick and Seb had foreseen. They ran in every direction, zigzagging while avoiding any arrow shot in their direction. Even Alex spent more time digging in the bushes than catching game.

"Not again!" Fox hurled the bow to the floor, the fallen leaves rescuing it from a fate worse than a snapped string. Another one of his arrows had disappeared into the tall grass. "I give up. I'm the worst archer in the world."

"Let me." Alex pushed the meagre little pheasant she had caught moments ago into Nick's hands. He didn't mind. She was far better at dealing with a crying Fox than he was.

He headed back towards the tree where they had tied up Billy. With the ham sandwiches and most of the muffins gone, there was enough room in his saddlebags to stuff the animal in.

Only the stallion that had once been his father's was not where he should have been. Underneath the oak tree were only traces of hooves that led deeper into the forest.

Just his luck.

"Seb," he shouted at the black-haired boy, who was running after a covey of young partridges. "Who made Billy's knot?"

The birds flew up, their wings flapping so hard that Seb shuffled backwards. "Erm... Fox... I think."

With folded arms, Nick marched back to Alex and Fox, who were sitting against the pine tree. "Well done, Muttonhead, I found another talent of yours. You've managed to let another horse get away. That's the second one in two days."

"It's not my fault. Seb said I had to tie him up there." Sobbing, he gesticulated at the oak tree in the distance. "Even after I told him that the branches were rotten."

"They were not rotten. It was moss." Nick didn't know if that was true, but Fox often saw things that weren't really there, so it was a good bet.

The tip of a pine cone landed on his nose. "Ouch."

"Stop bickering." Alex held a second cone in her hand. "It doesn't matter who did what or said what."

"Didn't Lord Brandon tell you not to use violence anymore?" He sniffed, rubbing his poor nose.

She narrowed her eyes, but dropped the cone, sniffing. "Come on. Let's find our horse. He can't have gone far. It's Billy."

Seb had already found good old Billy enjoying an afternoon snack under one of the wild apple trees. After giving the horse a hug of relief and telling him to never run away again, Nick slumped down next to him in the welcoming shade of the trees. Fox and Alex followed as well. After all, it was still a pleasantly warm summer day.

He sunk into the nap he had been dreaming of since morning. It didn't last very long, his blissful state disturbed by thuds, moans and groans. He opened one eye just as Seb placed his foot on the trunk and jumped, but failed to reach the branch. "Please, God of Diligence, I'm not asking much. I just wanna get up."

"What are you trying to do?" Fox asked, his voice filled with his usual credulous wonder. "Can I help?"

"I want to pick a ripe apple." Seb cleared his throat. "Because someone ate all of the muffins, and I'm starving."

Nick raised his hand, letting out a burp. "Guilty, My Lord."

"I am not a Lord yet," Seb snickered. "But I should still punish you for this horrible crime, Young Master Nicolas."

Nick flopped around on his back and yawned, then smacked his lips. "So tell me, Lord Sebastian, what heavy task awaits me to chase the Gods of Sin away?"

"Make him climb the tree." Alex gave their horse a kiss on the muzzle. "Billy thinks it's a good idea too."

"And let Nick have all the fun?" Seb shook his head, to which Billy neighed softly. "Nah, he should get some wood so Fox can make a fire. I wanna eat roasted apples."

"Fire Master ready for duty." Fox hopped up, removing the bandage from his hand.

Slowly Nick stretched his arms, then got up to collect bark and wood for a decent fire. Not that Fox needed a lot, because he was already blowing into the small fire he had made with the help of his two firestones and a few branches in his vicinity.

"Victorious!" With a little help from Alex and Billy, Seb had managed to crawl into the tree. He was standing on the branch.

"Get the red ones, Seb. They're less sour." Nick yelled. "And Billy likes the ones that are still a bit green."

"Aye aye, God of Gluttony."

Thanks to teamwork—and despite Nick's not-so-amazing wood-gathering skills—the four were soon able to enjoy their afternoon snack.

Warm apple juice rolled down Nick's cheek as he took another bite. The men of the hunting patrol would have laughed at their attempt to catch game, but it had been a pleasant food-filled afternoon. He couldn't wait to tell Abby and George the tales of the day.

"I think we should head home." Alex wiped the apple juice from her face, then buried the core under a pile of leaves and branches.

"Do we really have to?" Fox held his hand above the fire, the flames almost touching his skin. "I still wanna play."

"Alex is right. We should go." Seb wrapped his arm around Fox's neck, into a lock. "Before your mother runs to my father, fearing something terrible has happened to you."

"Okay. I don't want Mother to be sad." Fox kicked the fire out with a well-placed stomp of his boot. "But Nick has to tell us stories along the way."

"Deal." Nick held the half-eaten apple in front of Billy, who quickly munched it all away. "I know a fun tale of a giant who stole a child and—"

"Yes! Gregor the Giant," Fox shrieked. "My favourite."

And so he did.

They were about two miles from the open place. Nick was doing his roaring Gregor the Giant impression for the twenty-fifth time because Fox kept on begging him to do it again, when a strong smokey smell made him stop.

Before him, Seb was still skipping along, sniffing the air as well. "Do you smell that? I think my parents are organising an early birthday party. Mother did ask Lucy to stay at home today."

"Oh, so that's why Lucy didn't join us. Shame, she was welcome though," Alex said.

"Hmm... I don't know." Nick grabbed Billy by the reins. "Remember when Master Harald dumped the molten iron in the forest because Fox had spent too much time with his head in the clouds and it got burnt. It smells like that."

"No, it doesn't." Fox pouted. "And I did pay attention. It was just that—"

Billy neighed loudly, his head raised to the sky. A heavy cloud of smoke roiled above the treetops, moving fast.

Nick grabbed his handkerchief to spit out a violent cough. Even while his nose was covered, the smell was so penetrating his stomach heaved.

"What's going on?" Fox squeaked.

"I don't know," Alex said in between two bouts of coughs. "But look."

Through the low-hanging ivy shrubs charged a flock of sheep. Their bleating closer to that of frightened lambs than fully grown ewes and rams.

In their wake approached a storm of snake-green fire; the flames larger than the trees that they devoured.

Nick couldn't move. The only sheep in a twenty-mile radius were those of Farmer John. They came from town. Their town.

And then the fire. He had heard and read stories of entire villages wiped out by magical flames that swallowed otherwise unbeatable warriors in seconds. The few who had survived long enough to immortalise the tales had described them as snake-green too.

"Stop dreaming, Nick. Run!" Seb sprinted along with the sheep. "Get yourself to safety."

Nick grabbed Billy's reins, catching a handful of the horse's manes as he swung his leg over the saddle. His butt barely landed on the leather and they galloped off, to where he did not know as long as he got away from those flames.

As he darted a hesitant look over his shoulder, Fox was the only one not running behind him. The redhead strode straight into the direction of the flames, his hair turning darker with each step.

"Fox, get out of there! You're gonna get yourself killed!"

But of course King Muttonhead did not listen.