The Crystal Heart (4 page)

I'm not the world's best sailor, having never been to sea. But I do know about rivers and rowing, for at home everyone knows about that. On my way to the boatshed, I'd remembered an old rowing boat that people used sometimes for a spot of fishing, just off the island. I recalled, too, the last time I'd seen it, pulled up on the shingle on the far side of the shed. With any luck, there'd be no need to ask anyone anything, as long as the guards were inside the shed.

They were. The Angels were smiling on us that night. Cautiously, I made my way to where I'd last seen the boat. And there it was, complete. Though it was heavy, I had no choice but to carry it to the water; I couldn't risk the noise dragging it would make. Carefully, I carried it right to the water's edge and wedged it with a stone so it wouldn't escape.

Then I hurried back to the Princess. When I touched her, she jumped and stared as though I were a demon come
to claim her soul. The poor girl was as scared as a hunted deer. Looking at her then, so lovely with that flame-red hair and those wide green eyes, I knew that nothing we'd been told by our government made any sense. My whole world had shifted and would never be the same again. ‘It's only me,' I said gently. ‘I've found us a boat. Come quick.'

We hurried down to the strand, reaching the boat without incident.

Helping her aboard, I said, ‘Lie down in the stern and pull the cloak over you, Princess. I'll push the boat out and jump in after.'

She did as I said, without question or hesitation. I pushed out the boat and waded alongside it until I was waist-deep in water, then I tumbled in. She was lying huddled in the stern of the boat, unmoving. From the island all that would be seen – if any eyes happened to glance our way – would be a single fisherman with what I hoped might look in the dark like a bundle of netting at his feet.

I set to with the oars and was soon pulling well out of sight of the boatshed, giving the main jetty on the mainland a wide berth. The only sound was of the swish and clap of the water.

Finally, we reached the mouth of the Fish River, which, if you followed it all the way up, led you into some of the wilder parts of the region, to the west of my own. Manoeuvring carefully into the current, I guided the rowing boat into the calmer waters beyond. The river was wide here but soon narrowed, flowing between high banks. All this time, the Princess did not move a muscle or make a sound. So still was she that I thought her asleep.

I had never felt less like sleep. I was wide awake. Every sense on high alert, every muscle straining, every beat of my pulse reminding me of the enormity of what I was doing – pitting myself against the Council, helping a prized prisoner to escape. I wondered how long it would be before they realised I, too, was gone. Despite my ruse, they'd soon put two and two together. And then they'd go hunting. We had a day to get ahead of them, no more.

I already knew where we'd go. Not to Fish-the-Moon, for that would be the first place they'd go looking. Not to the White City, with its swarms of informers. And nowhere near the Nightlands, for though the Princess was likely to want to go home, her father truly was our sworn enemy, and I was no traitor. Ha, that's not what the Supreme Council will say when they find out what you've done, whispered a little voice in my mind. They'll claim you were in league with him all along. Of course they won't mention anything about killing an innocent. They've lied to the people for years. Why would they not lie again?

I brushed the little voice away. Now was not the time to ask myself such questions. Not a time to brood on the reason for their lies. Not a time even to wonder how they could imagine that the cold-blooded killing of a young girl could keep Krainos safe. No, I thought grimly to myself as I worked at the oars, the only useful thing I can ask myself right now is: Can I ensure we will get to our haven safely?

My thoughts were interrupted by the Princess's whisper. ‘I'm all pins and needles. I must sit up.'

‘Do that,' I said cheerfully. ‘There are a few cottages dotted about, but everyone should still be asleep. Not even a faint candle-gleam to be seen.'

The Princess flung back her cloak. Her red hair caught the starlight as she sat up gingerly and looked around. ‘Where are we?'

‘Heading up the Fish River,' I said. ‘If that means anything to you.'

She shook her head. ‘I'm not exactly an expert in the geography of your country.'

‘No,' I said dryly, ‘of course you're not. Well, all you need to know, really, is that where we're heading, you'll be safe.'

She looked at me with a startled expression in her eyes. ‘You mean, this is the way to my father's lands?'

I met her eyes. ‘No. I cannot do that. I'm sorry.'

‘I'm not,' she said, surprising me. ‘I mean,' she added, looking away, ‘I would like to go home. But I can't. Not yet.'

I was relieved but also a little puzzled. I'd imagined I'd have to argue the case for waiting. Part of me wanted to ask her questions. Another part knew she wouldn't want to answer. ‘What I meant was that we're going to a place that is safe from the people who will be coming after you.'

‘And you,' she added softly.

‘Yes, and me. It's safe because no one knows it exists.'

‘How so?'

‘It's a long story,' I replied. ‘But if you want to hear it …?'

‘Please,' she said softly, and that was all the encouragement I needed.

‘It was seven years ago that I first came across it,' I began. ‘I was twelve and on my first hunting expedition with four or five other village lads under the guidance
of old Tomas and his son Jacek, the best hunters and woodsmen in our district. From them we were to learn not only the ways of the hunter but also how to survive in the wild – to find shelter, food and water. Few boys went because Tomas and Jacek's services didn't come cheap and many parents felt that the army would provide that kind of training for free when the time came to be called up.'

‘But your parents didn't think like that?' asked the Princess.

I smiled at the memory. ‘Oh, Father did – he grumbled mightily about the cost, but Mother put her foot down. She said that the army trained soldiers, not hunters, and that the two were not the same at all – one obeyed orders, the other his instinct, and she knew whom she'd like to have around in a tight situation!'

‘Then I have the great good fortune of having been visited by a hunter, not a soldier,' said the Princess, and her simple words made my heart skip a beat. ‘Go on, please.'

‘Er, where was I? Mother told Father roundly that I was going and that was that. Her grandfather had been a noted hunter in his time, you see, and she was very proud of him. Anyway, there I was, setting off with Tomas and Jacek and the other boys in Tomas's boat, for it would take less time by water to reach the spot where we were to start our expedition. We were to be gone a week, all up.'

‘But it didn't happen like that,' the Princess put in. Her interest in my story warmed me.

‘That's right,' I said. ‘What actually happened was that I was gone nearly ten days. On the second day I somehow
got separated from the others and soon realised I was lost. I walked and walked, trying to remember all the things I'd been taught. As night fell that first day, I was getting seriously worried, because not only was I lost, but I'd twisted my ankle falling over some vines.'

I paused and looked at the Princess. In the starlight, her eyes were shining. She looked like she was hanging on my every word. Encouraged, I went on.

‘I came upon an abandoned house in a clearing, deep in the forest, near a little spring. It was clearly abandoned, for dust and cobwebs lay over everything, but the structure was still sound. I sheltered there that night, made a fire, and ate mushrooms and plums I'd gathered nearby.

‘I ended up staying two nights and a day there till my ankle had healed enough that I could walk properly again. I spent the time scouting around for useful things. I found a couple of battered old tools in the long grass near the house – an axe and a spade. I did not touch the food in my pack, for I did not know how long I might need it. Instead, I managed to shoot a rabbit and roasted it over the fire, then ate it with plum juice and herbs. I thought I'd made the grandest meal in the world.'

‘It does sound grand,' said the Princess, and for the first time she chuckled. I felt absurdly pleased to have got that small bit of cheerfulness out of her.

‘All the while, I was trying to work out how I could get back to my comrades. After careful thought, I set off again. But to be frank, it was more by accident than design that I finally found the others. They'd been looking for me in the wrong direction. They had just about given up and
were on their way back to Fish-the-Moon to break the bad news to my parents.

‘Tomas was so angry with me for having, as he put it, “wandered off” that he hardly gave me an occasion to tell the full story. And I just knew he wouldn't believe me, about the cottage. So I just said I'd shot game and taken shelter up trees. After that, we went on with our training and I never told him or anyone else about the cottage, though I went back there every year after that.'

‘Oh.'

‘Don't worry, I covered my tracks well. No one else knows it exists. I can guarantee you that. We'll be safe there.' I grinned. ‘And you'll be glad to know, Princess, that I did listen closely to Tomas's lessons. Over the years I've learned many things about the woods. I'm good with directions now. I can light a fire anywhere, even in rain. I know how to trap and how to forage. I have my pocket-knife, and I raided the pantry …' I gestured to a small metal pan for water, two tin mugs and basic foodstuffs that wouldn't be missed and were difficult to ruin: a small cloth bag full of buckwheat groats, strips of leathery salt meat, dried fruit and mushrooms, all of which I'd stuffed in my pockets. They'd got a bit damp when I pushed the boat out, but nothing more. ‘We won't reach the cottage tonight,' I added, ‘but we can camp and we've got food, and water from the river.'

‘You think of everything,' said the Princess, her smile lighting up her lovely face, and I was glad the night hid the sudden flaming in my cheeks.

‘I hope the cottage won't be too uncomfortable for you, Princess,' I said. ‘I've been fixing it up slowly. It's still
pretty rough but I think it will make a fine hunting lodge one day.' I was talking too much but I could not help it. I was trying to hide the fact that her presence affected me more than I cared to admit.

If the banks of the Fish had been sparsely populated, the Moss was much more so. The forest came right down to its shore, with not even a camper's fire to be seen. Sitting there facing each other – the Princess at the stern, me at the oars – we might as well have been the only two people in the whole world. It made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. I tried not to stare at her, tried to act as if everything was normal.

‘You never told me exactly how you'd heard me,' the Princess said suddenly, startling me.

For a moment I didn't know what she meant. And then I understood.

‘You mean, this afternoon?'

She nodded.

‘The trouble is, I don't know how it happened. I mean, I do. But I can't explain it.' I recounted my story about the rockpool, the voices and my decision to go up the Tower.

There was a small silence when I finished. ‘Let me get this straight,' said the Princess. ‘You had no idea who I really was. You believed I was a dangerous witch who could turn people to stone and –'

‘Actually, no. I didn't really think that. They'd told us the Tower stopped all magic.'

She smiled. ‘All right. But you still thought I was a witch. So why did you think I'd agree to help you find out who the Commander was plotting to kill?'

I looked at her. ‘Honestly? I don't know.'

‘I do. It was rash. It was reckless,' she said severely. My dismay must have shown on my face for she went on, with an impish smile. ‘You do know that, don't you?'

I returned her smile. ‘Yes, Princess. I do.'

‘What is it?' she said, with a quizzical glance. ‘You look like you're bursting to say something.'

I hesitated. ‘Well, it's just … I have never before had anything like that happen to me – seeing visions, hearing voices. I thought
you
could tell me how and why I heard you.'

‘I can't,' she said, a little too quickly.

‘But you are of the blood of Night. Surely that means you understand more about such things?'

‘No!' she cried, her eyes blazing. ‘My father is the Prince of Night, but my mother was human. And I was very young when I was taken. I have been shut away from my people for so long. Or have you forgotten that, Guard Bator?'

I could feel myself flushing bright red. ‘Forgive me. I didn't mean –'

‘No, of course you didn't,' she said ruefully. ‘You have been so kind to me and so brave, and here I am repaying
you with rudeness. It is I who should be saying sorry, not you.'

I swallowed. ‘There is nothing to forgive. I can hardly imagine how terrible it has been for you. I wish I – or someone – could have changed things for you long ago.'

Our eyes met and nothing more was said. I bent to the oars with renewed strength and speed and with a heart all at once lighter than it had been all day.

A few hours later we reached the spot where we had to continue our journey on foot. I rowed in as close as I could, then we both waded into the shallow water and pulled the boat to shore. A few scratches and curses from me later, the rowing boat was stowed away within a deep tangle of blackberry bushes. Crawling out, I met the Princess's anxious glance.

‘Are you all right? Did the bush attack you?' she cried.

I hid a smile, remembering that the poor girl had never seen such things in her life. I was sure there were no blackberry bushes in Night and certainly none in the Tower. ‘It's quite all right,' I assured her. ‘Just a tough old bush – the best hiding place there could be for the boat.'

I looked around, gathering my bearings. We had to head north, straight into the heart of the woods that began just a short distance from the bank. But it was getting towards the darkest part of the night, and it would be much too dark in the woods to even see where we were going.

‘In a couple of hours it will be dawn,' I said. ‘We will camp here till then.'

‘Is it far to the cottage?' she asked.

‘Oh, another few hours, Princess. But –'

‘Please, don't call me Princess anymore,' she said softly. ‘It feels too … not right. My name is Izolda, and I'd be glad if you might call me that.'

My palms prickled as my pulse quickened. ‘Then I'd be very honoured if you might consider, er, my name – it is Kasper.'

‘Of course,' said the Princess, with another of those beautiful smiles. ‘Kasper. It is a good name.'

‘Thank you, Pr– I mean, Izolda,' I stammered, like a fool. ‘Your name – it is also very nice. Er, you were asking about how far it was? We will be there well before dark falls again. But we must first find a place to camp.'

‘I see.'

I caught her glancing at the blackberry bush, and laughed. ‘Don't worry. We certainly are not going to hide in that! We'll find a good spot, you'll see.'

It didn't take long. A little way down the bank, there was a deep hollow near a fallen tree, with moss growing in it like soft carpet in a forest spirit's bedchamber. We shared a simple snack of dried fruit and a long drink of water, then settled ourselves into the hollow. After a short argument, Izolda reluctantly agreed to take the lion's share of the moss and try to sleep, while I sat half in and half out of the hollow, keeping watch.