by Helen Slavin
“You mean like a flying star? One of those ninja things?”
Emz nodded, felt at her neck, at the thin, sore line the thong had made.
“I kept it because I thought it was beautiful.” She looked at it now, uncertain. “I don’t get it. I’ve been wearing this for a while, and it hasn’t done this before. Why has it burned me like this today?”
“You said the Ember man, or whoever he is, reached for your neck.” Anna was very calm, her mind reeling with images of Casey quietly sobbing, of Judith Killen tearful on the trail of her assailant. “Maybe he was reaching for this.”
There was a silence, the shard glimmering and fading with light as if it were alive.
“I think it must’ve been him who shot the deer, back in September.” Emz wanted to grasp one fact. Others began to bustle forward to join it. “It was hurt. I helped Carrie in the infirmary.” Emz took the steps, slowly, aware where they were leading. “She took this out and I…” She stopped.
“You used your Strength to heal the deer?” Charlie ventured. Emz nodded, recalled her hand and its heart, steadying the beat, and, as she did so, her memory juddered further backwards. Emz gasped: Grandma Hettie’s hand upon her shoulder, reaching down from the past.
She looked at her sisters, “I have seen him before.” The memory was vivid. “Long ago. At the edge of Pike Lake.” She felt the heart in his chest and the beat it had taken from her hand, greedy, before he had been up and off, away into the trees, and they were glad he had gone.
“Long ago? What, like when we were kids?” Charlie asked.
Emz began the recollection. “I was small. Four maybe. He was on the lakeshore. Flat on his back. He’d come out of Pike Lake.”
There was a breath and then the sisters picked up the old thread.
“It was pouring that day,” Anna said.
“And she made us go out anyway,” Charlie nodded. “Absolutely hissing down.”
“He was unconscious. Grandma Hettie knew what she was doing. What I could do for him.”
“Yes. And then he ran off into the trees.” Anna recalled him, racing away.
Charlie nodded. Her mind folded out the Map of the path he’d taken that distant day.
“She asked me where he’d gone. To the East.”
“Frog Pond,” Emz said.
“You’re connected. In some way,” Anna offered.
“In some way?” Charlie scoffed. “She made the man’s heart beat. No wonder he couldn’t steal his Elf Shot back.”
Charlie was folding her arms once more as the thoughts crowded and clicked.
“His what?” Anna’s palm was flat on the surface of the table, as if touching wood would earth her, keep her safe from this conversation.
“Elf Shot.” Charlie was zipping up her sweatshirt. “That’s what it is. Shot by an… well, anyway. You know what I mean.” She looked across at her sisters and their wide-open, disbelieving faces. “Oh, come on,” she chided them. “It’s definitely come straight out of Havoc.” She gave a savage nod to the artefact.
“And so has he,” Anna said.
“Because I kept this?” Emz felt a dead weight of responsibility, her heart falling through her chest, a vision of Logan Boyle wronged and outcast, lit by the shimmering silver of the Elf Shot.
“No idea.” Charlie was pragmatic. “Let’s be honest, you’ve had this… how long?”
“Since September. Since Seren came. That same week.”
Charlie pulled a face.
“So, no immediate effect.”
There was an audible sigh from the three witches.
“We’ve got the bits here, we’re just not seeing them.” Anna’s voice drifted with her thoughts. The deer healed, the Ember man healed. Elf Shot. “It feels wrong. I don’t think it’s as simple as just the Elf Shot.” But she couldn’t put the pieces into the right places.
“Why not? He clearly wants it back,” Charlie argued. “Maybe it’s like she’s nicked his door key or something.”
“I think she’s right. We can all see the power in it,” Emz said. They looked at the fragment. Anna was tense.
“No, not his power.” She shook her head.
“What then?” Charlie asked, grumpy.
“Your power.” Anna looked at Emz.
“Mine?” Emz looked scared.
“You healed him all those years ago, and then you healed the deer which had been shot by him. I think that’s a bigger connection, stronger, than this… this is just incidental, a side issue.”
“You think that’s how he’s got out of Havoc all of a sudden? He’s using something from me?”
Charlie gave a groan, rested her head on the table. “Bollocks.” Charlie shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweatshirt.
“We’ve messed up everything.” Emz felt light as an autumn leaf, as if every bit of her had worked loose.
“Again.” Charlie spat the word.
“No.” Anna was shaking her head. Charlie took in an angry breath, but Anna held up her hand. “No. This is Havoc Wood. This is the job. We put Mrs Fyfe right. We put Ailith on the right track. We Bone Rested a warrior. We helped Seren.”
Charlie and Emz looked at her.
“There is no way that Grandma Hettie would have let you heal this man’s heart at the lake that day, without good cause,” Anna reasoned. “No. Way.”
“She’s right.” Charlie nodded “She knew her stuff. If you weren’t supposed to heal him, she would not have let it happen.”
“Whereas she actively dragged us out into the rain that day,” Anna said. “She knew what was happening… or what had to happen.” Anna looked at Emz.
“Exactly,” Charlie said. “If he was meant to be dead, we’d have stayed home, and the crows would have eaten him. If you think about it, it’s Gamekeeping 101.”
They let this logic sink in. Emz felt better, more grounded.
“He’s out of Havoc, but he belongs here. In a way that Mrs Fyfe didn’t.” A thought occurred. “So last night, with the feather dress and the holly tree…”
Charlie did not wait for Emz to finish her thought.
“Grandma was there. That’s why she stopped me killing him.”
Anna gave a gasp of surprise.
“Trust me.” Charlie gave a sigh.
“But in stepping into Woodcastle, he’s crossed a line.” Her voice grew stronger. “So we have to Gamekeep.”
There ought to have been a moment of breakthrough, a sense of triumph. Instead there was an awkward silence.
“Any suggestions?” Charlie asked.
50
Borrowed Moonlight
There was a clearing, just East of ThinThrough at its border with Unseelie Maids. Here, Havoc was gnarled and raggedy, and the deer that roamed it gathered to spend their nights. In winter, Borrower could sit in the Old Elm tree and see where their breathing made a cloud above those wild and wayward trees.
This clearing was his first choice to begin the hunt. The deer must be with the herd. It needed its fellows for warmth. If he took the deer, if he stole its heart, then what might he not borrow? The thought stopped, crackled at the edges with fear of Emily Way’s Strength. He stopped his mind, let the wood into his head, let the wind guide his feet along Whitethorn to the pinch of rocks at Hare’s Ell, on through the scar of crumbling chalk, the way cloaked with shelves of wort and moss, the thinnest and thorniest of trees here.
For just a breath, he thought of hiding here, tucking himself into this thorn and holding his breath for a hundred years; but, in a step or two, he had scented the deer, and he could not resist.
The Way sisters had a bony skeleton of a plan. As they moved down to Pike Lake, the Great Grey stopped snacking at the grass to give a deep, rumbling nicker.
At the sound, Charlie Way looked for her fear and found, in its stead, a powerful whirling sensation in her chest, as if her breath was being made into a storm. She glanced at Emz, saw the Strength sparking from her, starlit and glittering, black velvet; sh
e had seen this before when they were up at Day’s Ride. She looked towards Anna, gilded, shimmering, and, this time, instead of doubting herself, she wondered what they saw when they looked at her.
“Remember, we don’t Reach. He’ll see that coming, like before,” Anna warned. Charlie stepped forward, one foot in Emz’s path, one in Anna’s wake. At once, her own Strength surged, and, as she looked up, Havoc lit up with every pathway, footfall, and hoofprint. She breathed in the rich scent of the dark edge of Havoc, watched for where it winked with a lantern of embers.
“Unseelie Maids,” Charlie said, and looked at Emz. “You ready?” Emz did not look ready. She was fussing with her bootlaces and watching the tree line.
“No, wait…” Emz untied her laces as the deer stepped out of the trees. She slipped off her boots, balled up her socks, and threw them down.
“Emz?” Anna was anxious.
“Now I’m ready.” Emz ran forward, her bare footsteps matching those of the deer. Charlie and Anna fell in behind.
Boughs bent, limbs sprang. Havoc Wood had never seemed so alive. The shimmer of the last leaves, the shadows and light all drawing down to Emz as she leapt, surefooted, deeper and deeper into Havoc’s heart. They were turning away from the well-trodden ways, and the air was different. Charlie, with her heightened sense of smell, could sense it at once, and Anna, pacing up behind, was inhaling the woodsmoke and honey that drifted towards them, stronger and stronger.
Ahead, they could see the tawny red-brown of the deer, the white flash of tail as it yawed and bobbed on its journey. There was no sense of panic to the creature. It paused in places, nose twitching, eyes wide and taking in the Way sisters, until, Charlie saw, Emz urged it on with a heavier breath, with a hand flicked this way or that.
At Unseelie Maids, the trees were slender and magisterially tall. The deer slipped between the trunks with Emz close behind. Charlie thought of their task, her heart sledgehammer-hard in her chest so she thought her ribs would crack. It took effort to focus, but, as she did so, the wood lit up once more, and she picked up the trail of the Ember man: there was no disguising it. She saw where he would go, that Emz and the deer were, as planned, drawing him down.
“This way.” She took Anna’s hand. “It’s quickest.”
At Frog Pond, Anna tugged their stave out of the ground. It released with a shimmer that darted across the water and crackled against the shelter of the black rock beyond. When the River Rade was in spate, there was a waterfall. Tonight it was jewelled with green splashes of navelwort and harts tongue fern. In the near distance, Charlie and Anna could hear the trees bend and swag as Emz and the deer brought their quarry. They were springing a trap, and it had to work. With a jolt of fear, Charlie thought of the moment in the castle at Halloween, when Anna had taken the step forward, had bitten into Mrs Fyfe’s last poisoned apple. She glanced over to her sister. Anna looked certain of herself, holding the stave like a weapon, waiting. Charlie took a deep, calming breath.
It happened in moments, the deer darting suddenly above them. In pursuit, the Ember man could not stop. With an angry cry, he tumbled through the air. A gasp of breath, a flurry of embers from his waistcoat as he plunged, feet first, into the water. There was a hissing sound, and all was still. Anna and Charlie watched as the deer pattered down the path towards them, and Emz appeared on the rock above.
“Where?” Anna asked. Emz scouted the water.
“There.” She pointed. Anna saw the water flicker and bubble as Emz headed down to join them. Charlie was already picking her way over the rocks and stones to the flat stepping-stone. Here the water was deepest, but, in one decisive movement, Charlie reached down into the water and dredged him out. He struggled, but her own Strength tamped down the embers with small bursts of soot as she lifted him like a fish onto the stone before her.
He lay, wet and winded, and, as he gasped for breath, Anna saw Grandma Hettie’s ghost looking down from the edge of the rock above, giving a nod.
Anna joined Charlie on the rock. Reaching down, she grasped the Ember man’s hand. She felt where he resisted and pushed back hard. She felt him give in as she opened the Flickerbook.
The images dazzled and astonished. Colour. Wildness. Dark-hearted, wild-headed magic rattled down the centuries at her, beautiful and daring and glittering with danger; but she saw the fear and the flight, too. The grey sky of loneliness lowered over him, and she held tighter, sharing the grief. The small and familiar fingerprints that marked his heart. The Ember man gave a weak gasp.
“Borrower,” Anna said, the name written in the margins of the Flickerbook, the skills he’d stolen, the pieces of broken hearts. He took in a deep breath and let her Strength take him over. It was irresistible to her, to ride the landscape contained within him on borrowed horses. Havoc as she had never seen or felt it. She drank it in and then, gently, let him go.
He stood, triangulated between them. Charlie could see him lit by staves that stretched around Havoc, the bounds beyond which he must not pass and where they were broken. She saw her grandmother’s shade walking these Bounds.
“The Gamekeeper bound you and you broke those Bounds,” she said.
Borrower snarled, a sound so animal it made the Ways feel like mice beneath an owl’s gaze. Charlie stood up, put a foot on his chest to hold him. The Bounds were clear in her head. Borrower howled and shifted beneath her foot.
“I bind you as before.” Her foot pressed just hard enough, and the words whispered into her head like an old, half-remembered story. “Go on your way, the one marked.”
“Not until you give me back what’s mine,” he turned to glare at Emz, “thief.”
Emz reached the Elf Shot from around her neck, dangled it before him.
“This is the tithe we may take.” The words came to her mind like birds roosting. Borrower was shaking, his eyes intense with fury.
“No. Liar. You borrowed moonlight,” he demanded. A look flickered between the sisters, and Borrower began to laugh, a low unpleasant sound. With a rough shove, Charlie ditched him back into the water, her fingers knotting themselves tighter into his hair.
“Borrowed moonlight? What’s he talking about?”
“Not a clue.” Anna was pale and tense. “Emz?”
Emz was silent, her thoughts focused.
“Emz?” Charlie urged. “What is he talk…?”
Emz raised her left hand. Inside it, an orb of soft white light glowed. Anna gasped. Charlie’s mind spooled backwards to a search for Seren Lake, for the light she had taken as phone light or flashlight.
“After the deer. With Seren,” Emz explained. “I didn’t know what it was. Why it happened.” She let the light play in her hand for a moment. “I thought it was something to do with my Strength. But it felt wrong.”
“Does it do anything?” Anna asked. “I mean other than look pretty.”
Emz rolled the light around. It was soft and appealing and lit their surroundings with a clear brightness. She used her Strength to look into the heart of it, to feel around it.
“No. It’s just light. Useful.” She thought about it. “ But not powerful. Not like a weapon. More like a tool.”
“We’re on a learning curve,” Charlie reassured her. “You weren’t to know.”
“What now?” Anna asked. “Is it a debt? Do we have to repay it?”
Emz was calm, staring deep into the soft light. Her fingers curled and explored the light, and she gave a short laugh as it revealed its secrets.
“No. It’s part of our connection. That’s why I could borrow it from him.” Emz looked down into the water at him. “It’s ours to share.”
Charlie shook her head.
“He’s been attacking women in Woodcastle. Emz borrowed a bit of moonlight. We’re repaying nothing.”
“And he broke his Bounds,” Anna nodded. “But, still, what do we do next?”
There was a moment of deep silence.
“Pull him up,” Emz said, decisive.
“You sure?�
� Anna asked. Emz nodded. Charlie wrenched Borrower back onto the stone; his unsettling laugh burbled out with the water he had swallowed.
“I borrowed moonlight for Gamekeeping. For a search and rescue.” Emz kept her voice steady, focused on the moonlight.
“It’s mine. Return it.” Borrower was braver, twisting away from Charlie’s grip, straightening his waistcoat. The embers flared and banked. In Emz’s hand, the moonlight no longer felt odd or wrong. Her Strength glowed within to match its cool silver, and it revealed the secret.
“It’s not yours,” Emz said. “You borrow it too.” She did not look at him. Charlie and Anna saw the remark hit home, how he pulled away from the truth of it.
“There is an ancient bargain, made between my father and your great-great-grandam. You would be wise not to…”
“Careful, faerie man. I might take back what is mine.” She held out the other hand and made a loose fist. As she did so, his breath stalled. Emz released her fingers at once. Borrower’s face was chalk white, a shaking hand reached to his heart. The wood darkened, and a cold, whispering breeze breathed through the trees. Charlie’s stomach lurched. She saw Anna take an uncertain step back as Emz leaned into Borrower’s odd, foxish face.
“The power in the deer’s heart is not yours to take.” Emz’s voice was so unfamiliar it made Charlie afraid. “Honour the bonds and bargains. Be Bound, Borrower, or I will take back what you owe me.”
Their eyes locked for a flashing moment before Borrower bowed his head in assent. The cold breeze blew out, the shadows shifted back.
“You cannot take women from Woodcastle,” Charlie decreed. As she said it, she felt the air twist. Borrower turned, gave her a single, sorry nod. “If you want a wife, find her in Havoc.” At once Charlie regretted the words, the way the air twisted a little tighter for a second, and she was disturbed by the quick and greedy glance he cast at Emz; but Emz herself was unfazed.
