White Hart (11 page)

Cas stops and sighs. “There is nothing here, Mae. The trail went cold long ago. I’ve spent long enough hunting with the king to know that we’re heading in the wrong direction.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” I snap. “I don’t see you coming up with any plans.”

“I don’t see the harm in stopping and regrouping for a while. After all, it is blindly heading into danger which has almost got us killed—”

“You blame me?” I say, whipping around to face him.

“No, of course not,” he replies.

“You do.” The thought makes me sadder than I care to admit.

Anta moves rhythmically beside me. His jagged antlers bob up and down, and he chomps the bit in frustration. “Okay, we’ll slow down so we can scour the landscape for clues.”

“Or stop,” he suggests again.

He’s probably right, but a heavy desperation grips my insides, telling me that I should carry on and never stop. It urges me to keep looking because the tracks might be around the corner and then everything will be all right.

“Mae,” he says, this time with a quiet voice I know I should heed. “I think we need a break.”

We make camp and eat the last of our smoked meat. It’s a meagre meal, followed by a handful of berries. The forest remains quiet, with only the sounds of our chewing, the animal’s grazing, and the occasional rustle of leaves. Every noise makes the hairs stand on the back of my arms.

When we set off, I decide it’s time to increase our speed. There’s no point tracking the Wanderers here; the leaves are untouched. We might as well make good time through the forest.

“Do you know what those trees are?” Cas asks, his neck craning up to the sky.

I shake my head. “There is a lot I don’t know about these woods. Around every corner is a new species of plant.”

“Do you see those birds?” Cas says.

This time I squint against the sun and take a better look. High up in the highest branches are hundreds of dark coloured birds. They blend so well against the branches that I hadn’t noticed a thing.

“I don’t like the look of them at all.” Cas urges Gwen on, overtaking me on Anta.

“They don’t seem to be doing anything.” I shrug. “If they wanted to attack, they would have by now.” Of course, he doesn’t know about the fact I can control nature.

“Keep up, Mae,” Cas says, turning back to check on me.

I press my legs against Anta. But as we’re moving along the path, one of the large black birds swoops down towards us. It caws and flaps its wings, which are a glorious shimmering black with highlights of emerald green.

“Well, hello there,” I say, holding out an arm. The bird hops onto my forearm and regards me with its tiny glass-bead eyes. I dig a berry out of my pocket and feed it to the bird. “Cas!” I call ahead. “Look how tame this bird is.”

The prince turns back, and his face pales in horror. “What are you doing with that thing? Shoo it away.”

“It’s not harming anything.”

The bird turns away from me and caws softly.

“That thing is staring at me far more than a bird should,” Cas says. He has pulled Gwen to a halt, and his knuckles are bright white from gripping the reins.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoff. The bird makes one loud
caw
noise and flaps its wings. It travels up into the sky, back to the branches. “Isn’t it a beautiful creature? Look at the grace with which it moves.”

“We should keep moving. We need to pick up the pace,” Cas says.

Reluctantly, I press my heels into Anta’s belly. “You’re being overdramatic.” I call out, but Cas has already trotted away with Gwen.

*

L
ater in the day, the sun cools, and the bronzed trees become a darker brown, dirty as mud. It could be my imagination, but every time I peek through the branches, those birds are a little closer to the ground.

I catch up to Cas so that we travel side by side.

“We should find somewhere to camp for the night,” I suggest. “It’s beginning to get dark.”

Cas raises his head to the birds in the trees. “Not with them watching us.”

“Are you frightened of birds?” I ask, the corners of my lips twitching in amusement.

Cas flashes me a stern look, one I can imagine him practicing on the servants. “Absolutely not—not normal birds, anyway. I’d swear on the gods that those things are supernatural.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know,” he replies. “They’re too quiet. Too still. It’s like they’re waiting for something.”

While I laugh off Cas’s words, a chill runs up my spine. He’s right about them being quiet, and they blend so well into the trees that you can hardly see them.

“Okay, we’ll keep moving for now,” I say. “There’s still some daylight yet.”

My legs and bum cheeks are crying out for recuperation, but I can tell from the rare frown on Cas’s face that he feels very strongly about this. So we carry on.

The sky darkens as we hurry through the woods, and clouds of black gather above our heads. When I lift my eyes to the tallest of the branches, I could swear that the clouds pulse like living things. Sometimes I look up and the shape of the clouds has changed in an odd, almost supernatural way, which fills me with cold dread. We keep moving at a trot with Cas up ahead. I don’t know where we’re going, but Cas’s anxiety about the birds seems to be rubbing off on me.

The trees thin out into a shorter and bulkier species, like compact pines but with less foliage. The evening temperature drops to so cold, it sends a shiver up my spine. Cas reins in Gwen and waits for me to catch up.

“Have you seen those clouds?” His voice is low and serious. “They don’t move like regular clouds. It’s like they’re made up of lots of different ones all moving together. And I’ve never seen anything so black in my life. Do you think it’s another one of the Waerg Wood’s tricks?”

“All I know is that we should hurry up and get out of here.” I hurry Anta on, and Cas does the same. This time we travel side by side, the two animals so close that my knees brush against Cas’s calf.

“You know what those clouds remind me of?” Cas says.

I shake my head.

“The feathers from that bird. Remember how dark it was?”

My stomach sinks. The blood drains from my face. “That’s what they are. The clouds are the birds from earlier. I saw them nesting in the top branches of the tree. Now they’re bundled up like clouds above us.”

Cas turns his head up to the sky. “Gods prevail, you’re right! What do they want from us? Why do they follow us?”

The cool night air brings with it the scent of damp earth. A drop of rain lands on the skin of my neck, and another on my nose. Within seconds, the rain pours down, cold and refreshing. But then, a few moments later, the atmosphere changes and fills me with utter dread.

It begins with an itch on the skin and then becomes a burn that spreads over my body, finding the half healed cuts from the vines. I cry out in pain. Cas rubs his face with his palms. The two animals shake their heads in panic. Anta bucks beneath me, almost dislodging me from the saddle.

“The rain—it’s coming from the birds,” I say. “Whatever it is, it’s burning us.” Steam rises from my tunic. “We need to get out of here.”

Gwen bolts forward into the forest with Anta hot on her heels. Anta is fast for a stag, but he’s no match for the horse. Soon enough we’re left far behind. I can’t even see Gwen’s chestnut flank anymore.

I grip Anta’s neck as he hurtles through the trees, running flat out. The forest whizzes past me in a brown blur, and overhead the birds stretch out like a gathering storm, putting us almost in complete darkness. The strange liquid burns my exposed skin, creating ugly red welts on my fingers until it’s almost impossible to grip the reins. In a desperate attempt to protect my face, I bury it into Anta’s fur.

Behind me the birds
caw
strangely as though they are communicating with each other. Finally, the rain stops, Anta slows down, and I turn back to see sunshine filtering through the trees.

“That was too easy,” I whisper, half to myself.

The woods are silent, and Cas is nowhere to be seen. Anta snorts, exhausted from the sprinting session.

“Easy, boy.” I pat his shoulder. “Take it easy now.” He slows to a walk as I examine the forest around us. There’s no sign of the birds, but they could be lurking somewhere, ready to strike at any moment.

We continue on in the quiet. Anta’s hooves thud against the thick, leafy floor. My clothes begin to dry out, and the scent of wet leaves drifts up from the ground. I hope that Cas has had the forethought to stop and wait for me along the path. If we get split up for the night, I worry that we’ll ever meet again. Is it possible that the crown prince of the realm will survive a night alone in the Waerg Woods? He hasn’t shown much survival knowledge so far. I’ve had to save his life twice now.

The longer we walk, the more unease spreads through my veins. The sun settles into dusk and still there is no Cas and no Gwen. Images flash through my mind: finding Gwen alone without Cas, finding Cas’s body and Gwen nowhere to be seen, finding both prince and horse murdered. My stomach twists.

It darkens quickly above, sending a chilling shiver along my arms. Beneath me, Anta moves in his usual rhythmic way, hooves plodding in a one, two, one, two, one, two. If I don’t find Cas soon, I will have to stop and camp for the night.

A
caw
sounds in the night, and I whip around. Anta’s body starts beneath me; he tenses and leaps forward. I hold onto the reins tight, the blood draining from my knuckles.

“The birds,” I whisper to myself. “If they send that burning water on us again...” I urge Anta on. He snorts and spooks at every shadow.

Another
caw
rings out, and Anta startles again, shaking his head up and down.

“Easy boy. Keep going forwards.” The last thing I need is to fall from Anta and hurt myself, especially with those damn birds everywhere. “Come on, Anta. Keep going. Keep us safe.”

I wrack my brain to think of ways I can use my craft. Perhaps I can control the birds like I can butterflies and glowbugs. Something tells me these creatures are different and not easily swayed by humans. Another
caw
makes me start, and I yank the reins so hard I jab Anta’s mouth. He darts forward again, his head up in the air so that his antlers are dangerously close to my face.

“Easy boy,” I say, louder this time. “Calm down, Anta.” I try to stroke his neck, but I have difficulty relaxing my clenched fists. “Those birds really frighten you, don’t they? Me too, Anta. Me too.”

This time there are three or four
caws
all at once, more coming after, and I hear the flapping of wings. This time I put my head down on Anta’s neck and give him the reins. He’s got better night vision than me, so I let him dart through the woods. Behind me I’m aware of the flapping of bulky wings and the
caws
approaching through the darkness. What the hell are these birds, and what do they want from me?

Anta shoots through the forest, tearing chunks of leaves and dirt with his hooves, dodging trees with only inches to spare. I grip onto him by weaving my fingers into his coat, trying desperately to remain seated. The birds are close. Feathers brush against my shoulders. Something sharp and pointed rips into the skin on my neck, and a warm trickle of blood works its way down to my collarbone.
It pecked me.

Needle-like claws plunge into my shoulder. I lift my head and cry out, jerking my arm to try to get rid of the bird. Another tangles in my hair, and something squirts the burning water onto my arm. As I writhe in agony, another bird launches itself onto Anta’s flank. In a panic, he kicks out with his hind legs, bucking me so hard I lose the feet of my stirrups. I scream into the silence of the forest and fall to the right, one foot still stuck in the stirrup.

Stones, dirt, and leaves scrape and scratch my body as Anta runs away terrified, dragging me with him. Where my foot is caught in the stirrup, it is utter agony, and I can’t compose myself enough to rotate free. My face turns to the ground, and soil fills my mouth. The abrasive stones and dirt draw blood from my already sore skin. I don’t know how much more I can take. Finally the safety catch on my stirrup breaks, and my foot is free. Breath escapes my lungs as I’m left in the mud and Anta runs off into the forest. Before I can even think of lifting my battered, bruised, and injured body from the ground, a cloud of black feathers descend on me like a piece of raw meat for the taking.

My desperate screams echo through the forest. My burned and scratched body can’t fight back any longer, and that’s when I realise it was all part of their hunting plan. They picked us, followed us, and wore us down until we were powerless. As I lay there, the strength seeps from my muscles. My chest heaves as I wheeze out a pathetic breath. Seconds become hours, and in a desperate attempt, I shut my eyes to summon the craft, but nothing comes to me. Either panic or weakness has cut me off from my powers, and now I am helpless. I can only hope Anta got away, because their claws and beaks begin to tear into my flesh until my thoughts are of nothing but pain and anguish.

I don’t know how long it lasts. It could be seconds or it could be minutes. I’m vaguely aware of my body jerking and flapping. My arms are across my face, but my body is so numb that I can’t ascertain where any of my other limbs are. Ebony feathers flap and croaking
caws
deafen me.

Then, something bright and silver cuts through them in the moonlight. There’s a glimpse of sandy hair, and an arm loops around my body, pulling me close to a chest that smells like berries and musk. I fall limply into those arms. And then the darkness comes.

*

I
wake to the pleasant humming of an unknown tune. When my senses come back, I realise there’s a dampness on my skin, and my body rests on something soft. For a moment I think that I’m back in the hut with my father humming as he prepares breakfast. Then everything comes flooding back, the woods, the vines, the birds... I flap my arms out in front of my face, waiting for them to attack again.

“Shh,” says a voice. “They’re gone. You’re safe now.”