"Oh, it's you, Lord Seneschal,” he said, suppressing a relieved sigh.

"Who were you expecting, General? I am here to relieve you,” Shakkar rumbled, towering over the soldier.

"I don't know, Lord Seneschal,” Quelgrum confessed. “I just feel a little… jumpy tonight. If it's all the same to you, I'll stay on watch with you; I don't think I could sleep right now. Besides, I want to be ready in case Baron Grimm comes barrelling out of the Priory with a hundred screaming witches at his heels. I don't normally feel this edgy, but something seems-oh, I don't know. I suppose you think it's just an old man's addled imagination."

"Not at all, General. I, too, am concerned for the Lord Baron, Questor Guy, and Lady Drexelica."

"It's not just that,” Quelgrum said, trying to put his inner disquiet into words. “It feels like"What was that?"

Quelgrum spun around at a faint knocking, creaking sound that seemed to come from ground level. He shot a swift glance at Shakkar, wondering if he had imagined the sound, but the demon's lowered brows and bared fangs showed that he had heard it, too.

"Who's there?” he demanded. “Show yourself!"

Now, the General heard a similar sound from his left flank, a little closer.

"Everybody up, now!” Quelgrum yelled. “Something's happening!"

Another tapping, creaking sound, this time to the General's right. Quelgrum squeezed the trigger and loosed three bullets in the sound's general direction.

He heard another subterranean creak, and another.

"What is it, Sir?"

Quelgrum turned to see a breathless Sergeant Erik, his rifle in his hands.

"I don't know, Sergeant, but I don't like it."

Numal arrived, leading the blinded Tordun by the hand. Even in the campfire's dim illumination, his face appeared pale.

"Fan out,” Quelgrum ordered. “Whatever's coming, it seems to be all around us."