The boy moves slowly, scarcely breathing.
Ahead the forest seems impenetrable; before even reaching it he is stumbling on roots and rotten logs.
He nearly twists his ankles in the holes where the ground has sunk.
How could he hope even to make an entrance into that forest, let alone emerge from out of it again? And how should he expect to find Psalter in there, without a light, when the dog did not come despite all his calling? No, it's because he is dead Long dead He is silent drifting dust i.
Zagava Books The house of silence, paperback/avalon brantley
