When they woke up the next morning, Derek had already gone into his workroom to try to lose his fears in his work. "Are you okay?" Shaun asked Thomas as they washed their faces and brushed their hair. "With your dad I mean?"

     The wizard glanced at him, a hard comment about minding his own business already on the tip of his tongue, but there was nothing but understanding and sympathy on the woodsman's face. "We had very much the same row when we told our folks we were going," continued Shaun. "It's hard when your folks won't let go."

     Thomas nodded, and he felt a powerful swelling of gratitude and relief in his heart. These are my friends, he thought, and my dad's only making such a fuss because he cares for me. I'm lucky to have such people in my life. Luckier than I deserve.

     Derek stopped work and came back in at sunrise, to join the others in preparing to leave. Margaret and Edith were deeply unhappy about the whole venture, but now Derek joined sides with Thomas, assuring his wife and her sister that they'd be careful and that there wasn't any real reason to worry in any case. "She's just one old woman," he told Margaret, "and there's seven of us. Strong fighting men, wizards and even a cleric. Between us, we can handle one feeble old woman."

     So menacing was the Mad Woman's reputation, though, that the women could not be comforted and went off to cry and hug each other in private.

     They came back to see them off, though, following them through the streets all the way to the town gate, and they got almost all the way before they were recognised by those townspeople that were already up and about and a new crowd gathered around them. Al was there, and he asked them curiously where they were going, it being obvious that they were leaving the town, but they fielded the questions by the simple expedient of asking him about his family. Thomas was surprised to learn that Alan had married Daisy Harper, the girl he’d had a crush on and whom he might well have married if he’d never left the town five years before. Alan and Daisy had a child now, a beautiful little boy named Timmy, and Thomas mused that Timmy might have been his child if things had gone differently.

     There wasn’t time to question his old friend further, though, as they reached the town gates and Margaret pleaded with her husband and son once again to be careful.

     “Why, where you going?” asked Alan with some amusement, but Derek turned and fixed him with such a glare of intense anger that he backed away, swallowing nervously.

     “They’re probably off to see Mad Alliss,” joked another member of the crowd, but the look of fear on Margaret’s face as she turned to face him caused a collective gasp to rise from the crowd.

     “No, you’re not!” exclaimed Alan in horror. “You can’t!”

     The travelers ignored him and the rest of the crowd, and Margaret made one last attempt to persuade Derek and Thomas to change their minds. Thomas stood firm, though, and his father repeated his assurance to his wife that he would make sure no harm came to him. Diana tried to comfort her by saying that Caroli had plans for them and would not let them come to any harm before Her purposes were carried out, but privately she knew that clerics and priests and their friends got killed in nasty ways as often as anyone else.

     She didn't mention this to them, though. By the power of her Goddess, she was able to soothe them down until they were able to let them go with only the minimum of fuss and worry, but the two older woman still stood by the gate, staring anxiously after them, until they entered a small patch of woodland and passed out of sight. Thomas could still feel their worried gazes on the back of his head for hours afterwards, though, giving him a terrible, nagging feeling of guilt for the emotional turmoil he was putting them through. If something bad does happen to us, he thought, they'll go through hell when they find out. That thought alone was almost enough to make him turn back, and he forced himself to put them out of his mind.

     “They’ll get them to tell them everything,” said Shaun, referring to the crowd they’d seen pressing close around Margaret and Edith.

     “That could be a good thing,” said Diana, though. “If we’ve succeeded in persuading them that there’s another Shadowwar coming and they, in turn, persuade the rest of the town. This might be what it finally takes to wake people up to the threat.”

     The others nodded solemnly, and they fell into a thoughtful silence as they entered the forest.

     No-one knew the exact location of the Mad Woman's house, but they had a clue from some of the local legends told about her. One legend in particular, the testimony of Toby Barleyman, was very helpful. Toby had successfully found it some forty years before, when he'd sought her out to ask her the location of a legendary cache of treasure possessed by an outlaw called Black Nabbit, who'd terrorised the area some years previously until being caught and hung by the authorities. Toby had returned a week later, apparently ten years older and gibbering with insanity. Nothing he'd said had made any sense, except that the house was a day's travel to the north, which would make it about twenty miles, and that "She dun some terr'ble things ter me, terr'ble things! She aint ‘uman no more! Not ‘uman!" He had killed himself shortly after, taking the secret of whatever had happened to him to his grave, and this story, and others like it, had given the Mad Woman a reputation that a Demon Lord would have envied, so that people avoided that area of countryside like the plague.

     Their plan was to spend a day travelling to that approximate area, and then just tramp around until, hopefully, they found the house. They had promised Derek that they would give up and go home if they hadn't found it in a reasonable period of time, but privately the six travelers intended to return and continue searching alone for as long as it took to find it, telling Thomas's parents that they were going to Tatria after all to consult the library, just in case there was something there that Zebulon had missed.

     They reached the edge of the farmlands surrounding Andor after a couple of hours and found themselves entering dense woodland, similar to many other forests they'd passed through in the course of their journey. At around midday, however, they crossed a line of low hills, and as they descended the other side they entered an area of forest that was disturbingly different. The overhead canopy of leaves here was so dense that little light reached the ground, on which only a few stunted yellow undergrowth plants were able to grow, and every footstep sank deep into the damp, moldy leaves of summers past in which the occasional fallen branch lay hidden to trip them up. They saw the occasional squirrel running up a tree now and then, but apart from that the forest was empty and quiet, a dramatic difference from the menace filled Overgreen Forest, which had been alive with the cacophony of birds and small animals. At least we don't have to worry about encountering any dangerous wildlife here, thought Thomas. Between the soldiers and the Mad Woman, any sensible monster living here would have fled long ago.

     After a few more miles, though, a quite different sense of menace began to grow within them. It was too quiet for comfort, disturbingly quiet, and they soon began to look around hopefully for the slight rustling in the undergrowth betraying a hiding forest animal, a hint of normality. Even a monster jumping out at them would have been welcome, anything to break the dreadful silence. Thomas tried to whistle a cheerful tune, but it sounded harsh and out of place here and the others looked at him strangely until he stopped.

     Then, quite unexpectedly, they had a stroke of luck. They came across a path through the trees which had been swept clear of leaves and broken twigs and trodden down by the regular passage of human feet. It meandered to left and right as it went, to avoid large trees, fallen trunks and a dense pocket of bracken and bramble where a break in the canopy allowed a welcome shaft of sunlight to shine through like a slanting pillar of gold. They gazed up through the hole in the overhead tangle of branches, glad of the sight of the blue sky and enjoying it while they could.

     "It must lead to the Mad Woman's house," said Thomas, looking down the path that disappeared among the trees after only twenty yards or so. "No-one else lives out here."

     "Which way, though?" asked Shaun.

     "Doesn't matter," said Thomas. "We just follow it as far as it goes until it comes to an end somewhere. If we haven't reached the house, we just turn around and go the other way."

     "We could split into two groups and go one way each," suggested Matthew.

     "No," said Derek firmly. "We stay together. This woman is too dangerous as it is without us losing track of each other. There's no hurry. We've got plenty of time."

     They decided to follow the path north west, since that was closest to the direction in which they'd been going, and they soon came across evidence that they'd made the right choice. As mid afternoon grew near, they came across trees that had been destroyed by fire or split apart by bolts of lightning, and in other places the plants had been warped into new and frightening forms. One tree they came across had somehow grown into the shape of a man, or perhaps it was a man who'd been turned into a tree. They tried not to think about that possibility. Another was covered by brown fur from the ground to the highest branch and was warm and soft to the touch, as if it was a squirrel that had somehow taken root and grown into the shape of a tree. Others they came across were even stranger, there seemed no end to the Mad Woman's warped imagination. They grew steadily more nervous looking at them, wondering if she would do something like this to them.

     Finally, as the sky began to grow dark with the approach of evening, the path came to an end, entering a clearing in which a beautiful fairytale cottage stood. Climbing roses formed an arch around the green wooden front door with its shiny brass knocker, and frilly curtains hung in the small latticed windows. A cheerful plume of white smoke rose from the brick chimney that rose two feet above the golden thatched roof, and a white picket fence ran around a small, beautifully tended garden in which all kinds of small pretty flowers grew. A dozen or so chickens scratched around in a separate compound in which a hen house stood, and the sound of grunting pigs came from somewhere. The whole effect was that of a quaint little country cottage, the sort of place where your favourite granny lives, and to which most people dream of retiring when they grow old.

     "This can't be the right place," said Jerry in bewilderment. "The person you described would never live in a place like this."

     "It must be," said Thomas. "No-one else lives out here. Let's go and ask."

     "Not now," said Derek, though. "In the morning. If that is the Mad Woman's house, we definitely don't want to spend the night there, and I think we should all have clear heads and be well rested before confronting her. Also, we'd have a much better chance in the light of day."

     The others agreed, so they set up camp a hundred yards away and settled down for the night. They decided to keep a watch, two at a time, in case the Mad Woman tried anything in the night, but although Thomas had the disturbing feeling of being watched as he sat beside his sleeping friends, the night passed uneventfully.

     The next morning, the cottage looked even more enchanting than it had the previous evening. They decided that, rather than all of them going in at once, only two of them should go, with the rest hiding out of sight ready to come to their aid if there should be any trouble. It was decided that Thomas and Diana should go, Thomas because he knew the stories about the Mad Woman better that anyone except his father, and therefore had a good idea what to expect, and Diana because it was, after all, her holy mission. Derek wanted to go as well, but they argued that those who remained would need someone who knew the stories in case anything happened to Thomas and Diana. After arguing the point for a few minutes, he eventually gave in and settled down with the others to watch apprehensively as Thomas and Diana approached the front door.

     Somewhat nervously, the two of them walked up the narrow path and knocked on the shiny brass door knocker. After a minute or two the door opened and they saw a harmless looking little old grannie standing there. She only came up to Thomas's shoulder, and looked so fragile that he could have snapped her in two with one hand. She had silver hair tied in a bun with a red ribbon, wore a flowery blue dress with a red shawl draped around her shoulders and had a white pinny tied around her waist, gleaming clean, just out of the wash. Her skin was heavily wrinkled and covered with a tracery of broken blood vessels and her eyes were clouded and watery, but she had a bright smile and spoke with a cheerful high pitched voice that made them feel guilty for even thinking that this was the Mad Woman's house. Obviously, they'd come the wrong way and this dear old lady was just someone who'd moved out of the crowded walled town, preferring the quiet country life.

     "Oh, visitors!" she said in delight. "It's been so long since anybody came to see me. Won't you come in?"

     "Er, I'm very sorry, but we've come to the wrong place," said Thomas apologetically. "We're very sorry to disturb you, but we must be going."

     "Oh, come in anyway," said the dear old lady, standing back from the doorway and beaming with happiness. "You don't know what it means to have someone to talk to again. My sons never come to see me. They've got their own lives to lead and haven't got time to visit their old mum any more. Please, won't you come in? Have a cup of tea and some of my home made cakes and keep me company for a bit. You can tell me all about what's happened in the world, give me all your news. I love a bit of news, don't you?"

     "We really can't..." began Diana, but the old woman was smiling with such desperate hope and delight that the soft hearted cleric found herself entering before she knew what she was doing. As Thomas followed her in and the door closed behind them he thought of the others hiding among the trees, getting damp and cramped while he and the cleric enjoyed the dear old lady's hospitality. Hard luck, chaps, he thought with a smile.

     The inside of the house was as quaint and rustic as the outside, with decorations and furnishings about twenty years out of date. There was a strong musty smell about the place, but not a speck of dust anywhere. Poor woman probably has nothing to do all day except the housework, thought Thomas as they sat down in two worn but very soft and comfy armchairs.

     The dear old lady reached inside her dress for something. Thomas expected her to come out with a small frilly handkerchief, but when her hand emerged there was grey dust trickling between her fingers and he realised with a shock of alarm that she was chanting magic words. Diana just had time to shout a warning and jump up, running towards her, but the old woman was already throwing the dust at them and completing the spell.

     The cleric was caught in mid step and fell to the ground, instantly unconscious. Thomas, also trying to rise and searching for the words of a spell to cast back at her, fell beside her, his last thought one of bitter self recrimination that they should have been fooled so easily.