Shadowfell (23 page)

‘Come close,’ whispered Silver. The Good Folk bunched up tighter, so we were in a huddle behind the rocks.

‘If that’s the king’s men,’ said Daw, ‘they’ll be straight up to your wee house, and on after us.’

‘It’s a shame you cannot call something larger and stronger,’ observed a dog-like creature. ‘If you could bring out a giant, maybe, or a big monster of some sort, you could bid it carry you all the way to where you’re headed. With only us to aid you, you’ll be taken in a trice.’

‘Aye,’ said a little man in a yellow scarf. ‘It’s a sad thing if you’re lost simply for want of time.’

I cleared my throat. ‘I did call a stanie mon,’ I said. ‘At least, I think I did. In the narrow part of the valley, coming up. The Enforcers would have taken me, but I . . . well, I spoke a verse, and the rocks moved over to hide me. And later, when it was safe, they let me go.’

Round eyes gazed at me.

‘She callit a stanie mon!’ someone muttered. A murmured argument broke out all around me. ‘That’s six of seven!’ ‘No, it isna!’ ‘Which one’s it supposed to be, then?’ ‘The one about bein’ brave, ye gomerel!’ ‘Stirrin’ up a big lump o’rock, that’s no’ brave, it’s foolish!’ ‘No, it isna!’

‘We heard that something out of the ordinary had taken place,’ said Silver, ignoring them completely. Her tone was as assured as ever, but the look in her eyes had changed. Was there now a reluctant respect there? ‘We had not realised it was . . . quite so unusual. This means you can call help. The kind of help that’ll make your journey a great deal easier. A strong creature to bear you along and frighten off your enemies. Did that not occur to you?’

There was a little war going on inside me. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ I made myself say, though the prospect tempted me. ‘I don’t know how to use my gift wisely yet. I was almost entombed in the rocks when I called the stanie mon. Besides, if something as big as that came out to carry me, we’d be seen for miles around.’

This was greeted with murmurs and nods, to my surprise.

‘She’s right,’ someone said. ‘A stanie mon might get a prize for strength or endurance. Not for a running race. And he couldn’t blend, not if he was carrying a lassie. Once, maybe. Not over and over.’

‘What about a loch beastie, then?’

‘A loch beastie? What are you thinking, laddie? We’re not at Deepwater now. There’s one wee tarn up yonder. Then nothing until she gets to the Folds. Any beasties up here will be like tadpoles with wee fangs on them.’

‘The Folds?’ I had not heard this name before, and perhaps I had not been meant to hear it, for the one who had spoken was quickly hushed by five or six others.

‘A place near where you’re going,’ Silver said, making a trifle of it.

‘You don’t know where I’m going,’ I felt obliged to point out. It was freezing up here. The wind was rising, the clouds were darkening. And back down the valley, the disturbance that might be riders on the road was getting bigger.

My companions had fallen silent. The weight of the situation hung over us all.

‘A new plan,’ said Daw, taking charge. ‘We get to a haven and go to ground. We bide there until they’ve passed. Over the hill, halfway along toward the tarn, there’s a place. Neryn, take my hand and hers. You two, keep that bag up off the ground. Now go!’

Walking with the Good Folk was not like walking with Flint. The memory of how that had felt – his arm in mine, the warmth of his body, the strength of his presence – lingered close, despite my efforts to banish it. His treachery made my heart sore. It made my gut hollow and empty. I fought to maintain the anger that would keep me walking, but it was hard with the day growing colder and the path ahead stretching on and on, up hill and down, over sliding pebbles and sucking mud patches and rocks all jutting edges and deceptive holes. All the time the Good Folk kept pace with me, taking turns to hold my hands, whispering among themselves from time to time. Their bright eyes, their warm paws, their murmurs of encouragement gave me heart and kept me moving.

We followed a narrow track that lay just below the ridge. Once in a while one of my companions would climb back to the crest to look down into the valley. We would wait, then move on.

It was on the third such patrol that Daw, perched between the stones on the ridge and looking over, motioned urgently to the rest of us, summoning us to climb up. We scrambled up beside him. We had come further than I thought. Corbie’s Wood lay well behind us, dark and still amid the skeletal trees. Smoke was rising somewhere back there. Not from the ruined settlement; there was nothing of it left to burn. From up the hill beyond that place. And down by Corbie’s Wood there were riders moving about as if searching.

‘King’s men are near at hand,’ said Silver. ‘But he has led them the low way.’

‘That smoke.’ I made myself say it. ‘It could be the hut. Where we – where I was staying. They may have split into two parties. One could be close behind us.’

‘And even if you are wrong,’ said Daw, ‘when they find no trace of you on the low road, they will think of this path. Come, we must make haste.’

‘How far to this haven?’ I asked Silver. I did not know how long I could keep going.

‘It is not so near,’ Silver said, ‘and not so far. Gentle!’ The little woman she called to was sweet-featured, fair-haired and dressed in a grey hooded robe. She carried a curiously woven bag over her shoulder. ‘You’d best give Neryn one of your cordials.’

‘I shouldn’t – I’ve heard –’ I stammered as the little woman opened the bag and took out a minuscule stone bottle sealed with a bark stopper.

‘Alban’s full o’ tales, lassie,’ Gentle said, fishing out a nutshell cup. ‘This willna send ye to the Otherworld, nor bind ye to us in any way whatsoever. It will do nae more than give ye strength to walk.’

It was one risk against another. Drink the draught and accept the consequences, or perhaps fail to reach the place of safety before the Enforcers came. I took the little cup and tilted it to my lips. There was one sip of the draught, and it was like a fire in my mouth. I struggled not to spit it out.

‘Swallow it down, now,’ murmured Gentle, her eyes shrewd. I heard in her voice that she had done this more times than anyone could count. ‘Ye’ll feel stronger soon.’

‘What’s in that?’ I spluttered.

‘Ach, nobbut a herb or two,’ said Gentle, wiping out the cup with a twist of grass. ‘It willna kill ye.’ She glanced at Silver. ‘Give the lassie a bittie time, then we’ll go on, aye?’

We waited. Down at Corbie’s Wood, I thought I could see the Enforcers gathered in a group now. I wished for better sight, the kind some folk had as a canny gift. I imagined them: dark cloaks, dark horses, men conferring.
Ride on up the valley or leave the horses and try the path over the hill?
I thought of Flint telling them I was more likely to take the less obvious path: this one, the one he had told me about that allowed a person to skirt the settlements on the way north. How could he have done this? If anyone but the Good Folk had brought me the news of his betrayal, I would have refused to believe it.

Life was creeping back into my cramped limbs. My mind felt clearer, though beneath the effect of Gentle’s cordial, I knew I was exhausted.

‘I’m ready to go on.’

Gentle looked me up and down. ‘Aye, ye’ll do.’

‘On, then,’ said Silver. ‘Rain’s coming. The path moves away from the hilltop now. There’ll be no watching out for king’s men. Go as quick as you can.’

The path descended into a shallow valley between barren rises studded with oddly shaped rocks. This must be the way Farral and I had used as children when we made our expeditions to Lone Tarn, but I did not remember its being so eerily empty, the slopes so steep, the open spaces so bare and lonely. In a place of such profound silence, I felt like an intruder.

‘Quicker, Neryn,’ muttered Silver. ‘Move those legs.’

‘A pity you cannot summon a flame beastie,’ observed the dog-like creature, whose name seemed to be Blink. ‘A fair set of wings, those creatures have. Such as that could pick you up in his claws and carry you to the hiding place in a flash.’

‘Aye, a flash that would toast her like a bannock left too long in the fire,’ said Gentle. ‘Keep your good ideas to yourself and let the lassie do her best. It’s not far now.’

Not far
meant different things to different folk. Twice more, as we made our way across the difficult terrain and the clouds massed overhead, plunging us into near darkness, Silver called a halt so we could rest for a little, and Gentle gave me another dose of the cordial. Each time the draught brought new strength to my limbs and hope to my heart, but I could not fail to notice that each time the effects wore off more quickly. Weary and sore, I felt a flood of relief when a huge rocky outcrop loomed into view, its shape that of a wolf crouched to spring. I stood swaying, with Daw on my left and Gentle on my right.

‘Howler,’ Daw said.

‘What?’

‘Howler. Howling Rock, some folk call it. This is our place. Follow Silver around and down.’

I hesitated, watching as Silver skirted the flank of the great wolf, then disappeared as if by magic. ‘Are we going to . . . to another realm? I must be able to get back, I must be able to reach . . . the place where I’m headed.’

‘It’s no’ the Otherworld, lassie.’ Gentle grinned at me, flashing pearly teeth. ‘It’s a bolthole, that’s all. Anyone can step in here if he can find the place. Come, take my hand, I’ll lead ye in.’

‘Are you sure –’

‘Aye, we’re sure. This place, it’s a very useful cave, no more and no less. Come on now, you’re dead on your feet.’

It was true. I had hardly another step left in me. I followed Gentle around the rock and into a narrow fissure concealed by creeping plants. Then there was a tunnel, dark as night, curving deep into the heart of the stone until it opened in a chamber illuminated from above by a small triangular aperture I guessed might be at the crown of the wolf’s head. The cave floor was soft earth. Gentle released my hand.

‘Sit down, Neryn,’ said Silver. It was an order, and I obeyed, swallowing tears of relief. Silver began rapping out a series of instructions. ‘Blink, fetch wood. Sheen,’ she addressed a flickering being of indeterminate form, ‘make fire. You boys,’ she pointed to a pair of sturdy-looking fellows who might almost have passed for unusually short human lads, ‘food. And make sure you don’t give Neryn anything she can’t safely eat. Daw?’

The two of them moved away to consult together. Then Daw left the cave, heading out into a deepening dusk, and the rest of the band went about transforming the place into a suitable shelter for the night. Silver came over to where I sat on the floor.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I never wanted to be a burden to you. Where did Daw go?’

Silver sat down beside me, her gossamer garment falling into soft folds around her. One pale bare foot peeked out from the embroidered hem. She had walked the mountain track without any shoes. Gentle came to settle on my other side.

‘He went to spy on your pursuers,’ Silver said. When I stared at her in surprise, she added, ‘Daw is a bird-friend. He may fly over, or he may summon a crow to be his eyes. We do not use such skills unless we must. It taxes us.’

Blink and some others were building the fire, using wood they dragged across from a corner. The flickering being stood ready to wake it to life.

‘They’ll see the smoke,’ I said. ‘The Enforcers.’ A moment later I recalled the fire Sage and Sorrel had made, which had burned hot and smokeless.

‘Our fire will not betray you,’ Silver said. ‘And our footsteps have been concealed. Only the most skilled of human trackers could find us here. We will stay in this place overnight, and we will not leave carelessly. You must eat, drink and rest. And we must talk.’

That was certainly true: I had a hundred questions for them. Yet I could hardly set my mind to asking, with my heart still aching from Flint’s betrayal.

‘There are many farewells behind you,’ put in Gentle quietly. ‘And many ahead of you, Neryn. You will need to be strong.’

I thought of tending to Grandmother; of the years on the road with Father; of the long, cold trip up the lochs to Summerfort. I remembered calling the stanie mon. I saw myself stepping out of the hut this morning and shutting the door behind me for the last time. ‘I am strong,’ I said.