Arrow

by R. J. Anderson

  ‘The Stair’s fallen down,’ she called to the faeries on the other side. ‘And there’s too much wood here for me to move. You’ll have to wait until the others can get you out.’

  At first the only answers were groans. But then Holly spoke up, resolute: ‘We’ll be all right. Just send help as soon as you can.’

  Rhosmari climbed over the last of the debris and dropped to the floor, wiping the dust from her hands. Beyond the archway the passage was clear, its root-braced ceiling and pebbled walls still intact. She conjured a glow-spell and set off towards the exit.

  She had only gone a few paces before a male faery’s voice, rough with exhaustion, spoke to her from the shadows. ‘Rhosmari?’

  ‘Broch,’ she said blankly, as her light fell upon his face. ‘How did you get here?’

  ‘We came in through the hedge tunnel,’ he said. ‘Thorn showed me the way.’

  ‘But Thorn’s—’ Rhosmari started to say, but then the blunt-haired faery stepped up beside him, scowling.

  ‘I’m what?’ she demanded.

  Rhosmari bit her lip, willing herself strong. She could not afford to let her composure break even for a moment, if she were to go through with her plan. ‘We thought you might be dead,’ she said.

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Thorn. ‘I probably would have been, if this one hadn’t shown up to heal me. Took a blow to the head that nearly cracked my skull.’

  ‘Did crack your skull,’ Broch said. He spoke with his usual dryness, but there was a wild look about his eyes, and he was gripping Thorn’s shoulder as though afraid to let go.

  ‘Yes. Well.’ Thorn cleared her throat. ‘Let’s not get into that. So where are you off to?’ She raised her brows at Rhosmari. ‘I thought you were supposed to be watching the battle?’

  ‘I—’ Rhosmari began, but then a door banged open at the far end of the corridor, and a beam of torchlight sliced the darkness.

  ‘Somebody!’ Timothy’s voice cracked with desperation. ‘Anybody! Please!’

  Broch and Thorn glanced at each other, but Rhosmari did not hesitate. She pushed past the other faeries and ran to meet him.

  ‘Peri,’ Timothy panted as she caught up to him. He was clutching his side and wheezing; he must have scrambled through the pipe and sprinted down the tunnel as fast as he could go. ‘We need someone – to heal her. Right away.’

  ‘Knife?’ Thorn jogged up to them, her square face incredulous. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘She’s dying,’ Timothy gasped. ‘She’s lost so much blood, we’re afraid to move her…tried to call an ambulance but couldn’t get the phone to work – mobile’s no good either – must be the Empress…’

  Thorn whipped around and grabbed Broch by the elbow. ‘We’ve got to get over there now.’

  ‘I am not a skilled healer,’ he protested, though she was already dragging him down the corridor. ‘And the house is surrounded by iron—’

  ‘Then you’ll just have to keep her alive until we can get the house un-surrounded,’ Thorn snapped back. ‘Because there is no way I’m going to stand here and let Knife die.’ She wrestled the bow and quiver off his shoulders, dropped her own weapons beside them, and pushed him into the secret tunnel. ‘Enough jabbering! Go!’

  Timothy leaned heavily against the wall. ‘I’ve got to get back too,’ he said. ‘I just…have to catch my breath.’ Then he slid to the floor and dropped his head between his knees.

  Rhosmari looked from him to the weapons, lying forgotten in the middle of the corridor. Broch’s would be too heavy, but Thorn’s should do well enough. She edged towards them, keeping an eye on Timothy all the while.

  ‘OK,’ said Timothy after a moment, struggling to his feet again. ‘I’m going back to the house.’ He turned to her, eyes pleading. ‘Come with me?’

  The quiver warmed Rhosmari’s shoulder, and the bow felt strong and purposeful in her hand. Even though she had made the weapons invisible, she had to resist the urge to back into the shadows, away from his searching gaze. ‘I can’t,’ she said.

  ‘Just for a few minutes. Please.’

  Rhosmari chewed the inside of her lip. There was no way to refuse without an explanation. The only alternative was to lie – but it had been so long since she visited a theatre that she doubted she could make it convincing.

  But she could stay a few steps behind Timothy as they walked through the wider part of the tunnel, and then leave the bow and quiver behind at the junction. She could visit the house for a moment or two, and then go back and get the weapons and be on her way. And Timothy would never have to know.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘You go ahead. I’ll come after you.’

  Peri lay on the sofa, a blood-soaked bandage around her shoulder and another pressed tightly to her side. Her eyes were shut, her face as white as her hair; she did not even flinch as Broch’s fingers touched first one wound, then the other. And all the while Paul sat with his wife’s hand clasped in both his own, his eyes so haunted that Rhosmari had to look away.

  ‘I’ve stopped the bleeding,’ said Broch, straightening up again. He looked almost as pale as Peri now, and Thorn grabbed his arm to steady him. ‘But a full healing is beyond my power. She may live a few more hours, but unless you remove the iron from the house and bring in more faeries to help heal her, she will die.’

  ‘And how are we to do that,’ demanded Thorn, ‘with the Empress right on the doorstep? The minute we take that iron away she’ll burn the house, or pull it down around our ears, and then we’ll all be dead.’

  ‘Not while the truce is on,’ said Timothy. ‘I can do it. I’ll do it right now.’ He snatched up his iron necklace and rings from the table and dashed outside, the glass door rattling in his wake.

  Paul closed his eyes, pain etched deep into his face. He brought Peri’s hand to his mouth and held it there a moment, then gently laid it down and backed his wheelchair away. ‘I appreciate your help,’ he said to Broch. ‘You’ve done what you could. But you should get back to the Oak.’

  There was a bitterness in his tone that Rhosmari knew all too well: he was close, very close, to hating all faeries just now. And how could she blame him, when he and his wife had spent years protecting and providing for the Oakenfolk, and received little but sorrow in return? If not for Peri’s loyalty to her former people, she and Paul – and Timothy too – would never have been caught up in this battle.

  ‘You can’t get rid of me that easily,’ Thorn told him. ‘As soon as Timothy’s got the house clear, I’ll be back with Llinos and Rob and every other healer I can get my hands on, even if I have to drag over Queen Valerian herself. Knife is not going to die, you hear me?’ She stomped to the hole in the floor, made herself small with a shuddering effort, and threw herself inside. Resigned, Broch followed.

  ‘I have to go now,’ said Rhosmari, still avoiding Paul’s eyes. ‘But the Empress won’t get anywhere near this house, even once the truce is over. You and Peri and Timothy will be safe from now on. I promise.’

  ‘Really,’ said Paul. ‘And how are you going to accomplish that? March out there and shoot her?’

  And now she did look up, because if anyone could understand why she had to do this, he would. ‘Yes,’ she said, holding his accusing blue gaze as she shrank to Oakenfolk size and backed up to the mouth of the tunnel. ‘That’s exactly what I’m going to do.’

  The bow and quiver lay where she had left them, at the junction of the pipe and the hedge tunnel. By the dim light of her glow-spell Rhosmari picked up the bow and tested its pull, examined each of the arrows to make sure they were straight and undamaged, and for the last time, reviewed her plan.

  Martin had taught her that appearing vulnerable was the way to put people off their guard. And both he and the Empress knew just how vulnerable Rhosmari, a Child of Rhys who had sworn never to shed blood, could be. So when Rhosmari walked out into the open meadow and announced that she was surrendering to the Empress in order to end the battle, there would be no reason for anyone
to doubt her.

  Keeping her bow hovering invisibly overhead while she walked would be a challenge, since levitation was not one of Rhosmari’s usual skills. But if she could learn from Martin, she could learn from the Empress, too: once she stepped out into the moonlight, even that difficult spell should become easy. Hands meekly upraised, she would walk across the field and turn herself over to the Empress’s followers. She would wait until the Empress came out to meet her, and then…

  There were three arrows in the quiver. But once the bow was in her hands, she would only need one shot.

  And after that? asked a voice in her mind, but she pushed the thought away. Why should she care? Let Veronica and the Blackwings kill her, if they wished. By then everything that had once been Rhosmari daughter of Celyn would be dead anyway. She slung the bow over her shoulder, and prepared to Leap away.

  The door of the pipe crashed open. Timothy scrambled out, the wooden medallion swinging from his neck. ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Don’t do it, Rhosmari.’

  So Paul had told him. The betrayal stung her, but she would not let anyone stop her now. ‘I have to,’ she replied with forced patience. ‘If I don’t kill the Empress, she’ll go on fighting until the Oak is destroyed, and everyone is dead. And then she’ll make me her slave again, and use me to invade the Green Isles—’

  Timothy set the torch down and took a step towards her. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘Or at least…I know all those things could happen. But I also know that if you do this, it’ll destroy you.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what happens to me. Not if I can save everyone else.’

  He was silent for a moment, his dark head bent. Then he said quietly, ‘I’m sorry about Garan.’

  He was trying to break her. Rhosmari clenched her fists, cursing herself for staying to argue with him when she should have Leaped instead. It would serve him right if she—

  ‘I know you weren’t betrothed any more,’ Timothy said. ‘But I think he really did love you, in the end.’

  Shame welled up inside her, and the ice around her heart began to crack. ‘I didn’t love him,’ she said, and then with sudden fierceness, ‘Don’t you understand, I never loved Garan and I should have, because he was good and kind, and he sacrificed everything he had to help you and Linden and the others when I was too afraid to even care. And then the Empress killed him, and I couldn’t stop her—’

  ‘Rhosmari.’

  ‘And I hate her!’ She was breathing fast now, almost snarling the words. ‘I hate her and I want her to die!’

  ‘I know,’ said Timothy in the same soft voice. ‘I do too. But what she did to Garan…it wasn’t your fault.’

  The air in Rhosmari’s lungs had turned to water, filling up her chest and her eyes. ‘It was,’ she gasped. ‘If I hadn’t come here… If I hadn’t… I should have…’

  ‘Rhosmari.’ Timothy reached out to her, fingers brushing her cheek. ‘I’ve never met anyone who wanted so badly to save everyone. But you can’t.’ He lifted the bow off her shoulder, sliding it down her arm. ‘None of us can.’

  Her fingers grasped at the bow, but he had already set it aside. She clutched the strap of the quiver, twisted her body so that he could not take it away from her…and then, sickened at herself, she tore it off and flung it down. Arrows clattered across the ground as she dropped to her knees, and buried her face in her empty hands.

  Timothy crouched beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Good,’ he said huskily. ‘That’s good, Rhosmari.’

  ‘I didn’t mean this to happen,’ she choked out. ‘Any of it. I wish I could go back and undo it all… If I’d just stayed on the Green Isles…’

  ‘If you hadn’t come, Bluebell would still have betrayed us,’ said Timothy. ‘And she would still have given the Empress the Stone. Garan would probably have died exactly the same way, even if you hadn’t been here. But then I’d never have met you.’ His voice lowered. ‘And I wouldn’t want that.’

  She pushed herself away from him, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. ‘You don’t know what I’m really like,’ she said thickly. ‘You don’t know the things I’ve done. I’m such a hypocrite, Timothy. All this time I’ve been trying to stop other people from hurting each other, and yet…’

  ‘Hey.’ His voice was gentle. ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. After what the Empress did to you, I’m amazed you held out as long as you did.’

  ‘It’s not that.’ She plucked at a loose thread in her skirt. ‘I know how terrible it is to lose someone suddenly…and violently. That’s why I can’t stand the thought of fighting, because that’s what it does to people. So when my mother told me that humans had killed my grandfather, I…I felt like I could never trust a human again. And yet…when my father died, eight years ago – it was my fault.’

  Timothy sat back on his heels, watching her without expression. He didn’t say anything, just waited for her to go on. And after a moment, Rhosmari found that she could.

  ‘There was a cove not far from our house, back on the Green Isles. My father told me not to go there, that it wasn’t safe. But he didn’t tell me why, and I thought…I thought I was old enough to take care of myself. So I went anyway.’

  Timothy nodded, which could have meant either that he understood, or that he would have done exactly the same thing in her place. Knowing him, it was probably both.

  ‘The path was steep and slippery, but when I got to the bottom I found some of the most beautiful shells I’d ever seen. I was so busy hunting for them, I lost track of time. And then the tide started coming in.’

  Her younger self’s first instinct had been to climb up the way she had come, but the stone crumbled away under her fingers, and she’d only ended up sliding back to the bottom. She hadn’t yet learned to Leap, and she didn’t dare make herself small and fly away, because the wind was rising and she feared she’d be blown right out to sea. So she’d pressed herself flat against the cliffside, staring helplessly at the fast-encroaching water, until her father came looking for her.

  ‘Rhosmari? Are you down there?’ He’d cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, walking along the cliff’s edge. ‘Don’t be afraid, just…’

  And suddenly the top of the cliff crumbled away, dirt and stone pouring down like a waterfall, pummelling Rhosmari with loose pebbles and enveloping her in a smothering cloud of dust. She’d cowered behind a boulder with her hands over her head, sure that she was about to be buried alive. But the worst of it missed her, and little by little the landslide subsided. Shouts echoed from the top of the cliff as the other Children of Rhys ran to see what had happened, and cautiously Rhosmari stood up again, looking for her father.

  ‘And there he was,’ she finished. ‘Lying on the rocks, with the sea washing over him. Dead.’

  There was a long silence. Then Timothy said, ‘I’m sorry.’

  Two quiet words, that was all – and yet somehow, it was enough. Enough at least to let Rhosmari know he understood, and did not despise her.

  ‘Timothy,’ she whispered, ‘I’m so scared. Scared of what the Empress will do to me – what she’ll make me do, when she captures me again.’

  ‘She won’t get the chance,’ he told her, laying a hand over hers. ‘Rob’s only stalling for time – there’s no way he’s going to hand you over. We’re going to keep fighting as long as we can.’

  ‘And then Peri will die, and in the end the Empress will take me anyway.’ Rhosmari rubbed her eyes. ‘It’s no good, Timothy. Even if I—’ her voice wavered— ‘killed myself, that wouldn’t protect you and the others. The only way to stop the fighting, at least for a while, is to give her what she wants.’

  Timothy stared at her. Then he said harshly, ‘No.’

  ‘It’s the only chance we’ve got,’ she went on, not sure if she was talking to him or to herself. ‘If I give myself up to the Empress, then maybe she’ll leave the Oak alone, at least for the moment. If she wants to be certain of taking over the Green Isles, she’ll need all her followers behind he
r, so she’ll take me and her army and go. And once that happens, Rob and the others will be able to go into the house and heal Peri.’

  ‘Rhosmari—’

  ‘And when we’re away from the Oak, maybe I’ll be able to think of a way to get a message to the Children of Rhys, and warn them.’ She looked down at their joined hands. ‘I know it isn’t likely. I know I’ll probably fail. But I can’t stay here, and watch you all die for my sake.’

  Timothy made a frustrated noise. ‘And you thought Peri was crazy, giving her name to Paul,’ he said. ‘How is it any less crazy giving your name to someone who wants to enslave you?’

  ‘I’m not giving my name to—’ Rhosmari protested, and then it hit her. A strange, wild hope rose inside her breast. ‘But…what if I did?’

  ‘To the Empress? What good would that do?’

  ‘No, not her.’ She sat up, gripping his arm. ‘Someone on our side, who didn’t want the Empress to control me. Would she still be able to take my name, if someone else already knew it?’

  ‘I…don’t know,’ said Timothy. ‘I’m not even sure it would work unless you really wanted to give away your name, the way Peri and Heather did. But you don’t. Do you?’

  Rhosmari was not sure how to answer. Her stomach still churned at the thought of sharing her name with anyone. Yet now there was excitement mixed in with the dread as well.

  ‘But what if it did work?’ she asked. ‘And what if we could convince the other faeries to do it, too? Could that be the key to defeating the Empress, even without the Stone?’

  Timothy’s face lit up as he caught her meaning. ‘So maybe, even if you can’t shoot the arrow that stops Jasmine, you can be the arrow. Not the kind that kills, but the kind that points the way.’

  ‘Yes!’ But then she remembered the enormity of the risk she would be taking, and her confidence drained away. ‘Except…I don’t know if I can do it.’