A Curse of Ash and Embers

by Jo Spurrier

  ‘But Melly said she helped her once, against a savage dog,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, aye, she did. She’d do that, from time to time, lend a hand when it suited her. But never when Old Miss Blackbone could see. I never thought we’d see her again, but then there was this sad business with young Bennett and his family, Lord and Lady keep them. I suppose that’s what brought her back.’ She gave me a measuring look. ‘Do you have witches where you come from, Miss Forster?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, ma’am. I met a wizard on the way here, though.’

  ‘A wizard? Well, fancy that. I can say with truth that I have never seen a wizard.’

  I could tell that she was mocking me, but I held my tongue, reaching hesitantly for another scone. When she noticed, Mrs Sanford pushed the basket towards me. ‘I can see there was a fight,’ I said. ‘The cottage is in a fair ruin. But has no one been to check on her, in all this time?’

  Mrs Sanford gave me a hard, cold look, but I steeled myself and held her gaze. ‘No,’ she said. ‘For we weren’t sure who won the fight. We knew it was the witches, of course, when the sky went dark. Afterwards, Attwater said he saw Miss Aleida coming down from the mountains . . . but from what I’ve heard it wouldn’t be the first time an old witch had stolen a young body, and I had my doubts that young lass could ever be as mean as old Gyssha Blackbone.’ She took a sip of her tea; she was still on her first cup while I was on my third. ‘Besides, the last time I spoke to Old Miss Blackbone she said that the next one of mine who strayed onto her land uninvited would never leave again, and I wasn’t about to test her. And then folk started to see strange beasts in the forest . . . by the time Attwater told us what he’d found, folk were already too scared to venture far from home.’

  ‘Strange beasts?’ I said. ‘You mean . . . monsters?’

  Mrs Sanford gave me a steady look, lips pressed together. ‘If you haven’t seen one yet, Miss Forster, you ought to count yourself fortunate. There’s half-a-dozen of them, maybe more, bigger than the biggest bull, with eyes that glow like firelight. And everywhere they go, they tear and crush and destroy. There’s naught folk like us can do to stop them — no trap strong enough to catch them, no pit deep enough to hold them. It would take an army and their great catapults to stop them, I’d say. But unless someone does something about them, it’s only a matter of time before someone gets killed.’

  I nodded. ‘I’ll tell my mistress.’

  Mrs Sanford looked me over with a faint sadness. ‘You’re a kind-hearted girl, Elodie Forster, but you ought not to get yourself involved in things you don’t understand. The best thing you could do is turn around and head back home to Burswood Farm. If you were my lass I’d rather have you home than tangled up in these affairs.’

  I caught my breath, thinking of Ma and Lucette, of little Jeb and Maisie. But I couldn’t go back. I’d never get to leave again. ‘I don’t want to go home.’

  ‘Whatever fights you’ve had, your family loves you, I can promise you that.’

  It was true. Maybe not in Lem’s case, but the rest of them . . . But the good couldn’t cancel out the bad. It wasn’t like a set of scales, where one side balances the other. No, it was more like a tug-o-war, where it felt like you were being pulled apart. ‘Thank you, Mrs Sanford,’ I said, and I could hear the tremor in my voice. ‘But I don’t want to go back. I need this position, I can’t afford to leave it.’

  ‘Well, you know your own mind best, I’m sure,’ Mrs Sanford said. ‘But there’s one thing you have to understand, Elodie: those witches may have started fighting a week ago in Black Oak Cottage, but the battle isn’t over yet. Your mistress still has a struggle ahead of her, and it sounds to me that she’s in poor shape to tackle it. If you do decide that this is too much for you, you’re welcome under my roof, and I’ll do what I can to get you home to your ma.’

  I bowed my head. ‘Thank you, Mrs Sanford.’

  She set her teacup down with a clink and brushed crumbs from her apron. ‘Now. What did your mistress send you here for? A goat in milk, was it? We haven’t any hens right now, thanks to that beast.’

  ‘And some food for our pantry, if you have any to spare, ma’am. Miss Aleida said she’d like to hire the goat, as she didn’t know how long she’d stay at the cottage . . .’

  ‘Like that, is it? Let’s say instead that she buys the beast, and we’ll buy it back if she’s done with it in a timely manner. We just baked yesterday, so I can give you a loaf or two. I daresay you’d like some cheese, and I have some ham and sausages in the smoker. No eggs right now, but I can give you a block of butter. And perhaps a jar of jam, too?’

  Even though I was quite full of scones and tea, the thought of it all made my mouth water. ‘Thank you, Mrs Sanford, and perhaps five pounds of flour too? I’d be most grateful.’

  ‘I’ll have Tara put it together while I send Drevin to bring in the goats,’ Mrs Sanford said, standing up. ‘As for chickens, I’m visiting my sister tomorrow, and she has some hens to spare. I’m getting some for my own flock, would you like me to see if she has any others to sell to Miss Aleida?’

  ‘That would be very kind of you, Mrs Sanford.’

  ‘Well, it’s as much practicality as kindness,’ she said. ‘If she gets desperate she’ll likely just take what she wants like Gyssha did. Besides, if anyone’s to deal with those monsters, it’ll be her; and she’ll need more than what little her beasts can scrounge if she’s to be strong enough to do so. Wait here, if you please, and I’ll get your goods together.’

  What her beasts can scrounge. I thought again of the owl. Mrs Sanford knew more about it than I did, apparently.

  In short order the Sanfords had laid out enough supplies to last my mistress and I for a week, so long as we were frugal and didn’t mind stale bread. They also brought out a nanny-goat for me to look over. I didn’t know all that much about goats, certainly not enough to feel secure in spending my mistress’s money on one, but she seemed a good beast and I reasoned that I could take her subject to Miss Aleida’s approval. Given how wary the Sanfords seemed of their neighbour, I thought it unlikely they’d try to cheat her. So with that I dug out the red purse and started counting out Miss Aleida’s coin.

  That caused a whole other kerfuffle, since apparently no one had seen these sorts of coins before. Mrs Sanford had to send for her husband, who in turn sent for his father, who brought out a little wooden box with a delicate set of scales, and there was much to-ing and froing with weighing various coins and tallying up numbers scratched in the farmyard dust. In the end, when Mr Sanford told me what he thought was the fair price, I was too lost in it all to do anything but nod and accept it; though he agreed that if Miss Aleida took issue he would speak to her about it. And so, with my pack-basket loaded and settled on my back, and the goat’s lead-rope in my hand, I made my farewells and started back along the road with Melly at my side, since she had to get back to her brothers to help with their work. I was a bit worried I’d have to drag the goat the whole way, but as I turned towards the gate the nanny followed me, as tame as a dog on a leash.

  ‘Well, I can’t tell you what a relief it is to know that Old Miss Blackbone is gone,’ Melly said. ‘I was fair terrified of her when I was little. Granny used to tell me that if I didn’t do as I was told Old Miss Blackbone would snatch me from my bed when I slept. Not that it did her any good, mind you, it just made me afraid to go to sleep. Now, tell me, have you met anyone else in the area?’

  Keeping my promise to Kian, I shook my head, even though I’d liked to have found out more about the young lad. My mind was still reeling with everything I’d learned, but Melly’s chatter was soothing. It was nice to talk to someone my own age, and Melly prattled on like we were old friends. She told me all about the area, who farmed where and had daughters and sons our age, though I found it hard to keep the names and homesteads straight in my head. ‘Oh, and I have to ask,’ she said, ‘or my brothers will never forgive me. Do you have a beau at home? Someone who’ll write y
ou letters about how he’ll die of a broken heart if he doesn’t get to see you before the next full moon?’

  I blushed at that. ‘No, no, I’ve no swains. Even if I did, they wouldn’t be writing me letters. I don’t know how to read.’

  ‘What?’ Melly looked shocked. ‘You can’t read? I thought everyone learned how to read these days . . .’ She realised then, belatedly, that she might have given offence and clapped a hand over her mouth.

  ‘Everyone does,’ I said. ‘Just not me.’

  ‘Oh, well, I do hope you’ll be able to come a-visiting, if Miss Blackbone gives you a half-day. We could take you to meet Tamsin Greenwood, or the Copewald girls or even head into Lilsfield.’

  ‘That’d be grand, Melly,’ I said. We’d been hearing the sound of the lads’ axes for a little while now, and as we rounded a bend in the road they came into sight.

  ‘Ah, now here’s Ed and Bruen,’ said Melly. ‘I’d best get to helping them load up all that wood. Nice to meet you, Elodie.’

  ‘You can call me Dee, if you like,’ I said, ducking my head.

  Melly grinned. ‘I will then. See you later, Dee!’ As she hurried away the lads glanced up, looking no happier with me than they had before, but at least Melly had a smile and a cheery wave. I returned it with one of my own as I marched past with the basket on my back and the goat trotting obediently at my side.

  After talking to Kian I’d been prepared for the Sanfords to be the sort of folk who have nothing but mistrust and scorn for anyone outside their tribe. But after the way Mrs Sanford had filled my belly and heard my tale, it was hard to balance what Kian had said against my own impressions. And as for Kian himself . . . I wished I could have asked Melly about him. I kept thinking about him as I trudged back towards the cottage, his dark brown eyes and long-fingered hands. I knew I had to return to my mistress, but in truth I was in no hurry to get back to the comfortless hovel and all its wreckage and ruin.

  As I turned back onto the main road, something caught my eye — hoofprints. They hadn’t been there when I passed by earlier. They were large ones, and deep — not as massive as the monster tracks I’d seen on the way into Lilsfield, but it was clear the horse was shod with iron and had pressed heavily into the damp earth.

  It’s probably nothing, I told myself. Riders must pass by here all the time.

  But then, before I was even halfway back to the cottage, I saw a dark figure on the road ahead, mounted on a big black horse, perhaps a hundred yards away.

  For an instant, I froze. Then I dived off the road, hiding behind a clump of bushes. The nanny-goat, though mildly surprised by this turn of events, happily settled in to browse on the twigs and leaves.

  I crouched there for a few long moments before summoning my courage to peek out again. The black rider was still there, striding along at a measured pace. He didn’t seem to notice me — a wonder, that. The way my heart had started pounding, I’d have thought they’d be able to hear it clear to Lilsfield.

  After cowering behind the greenery for a few more minutes, I stole another glance. Perhaps it wasn’t the same man who’d sent Brian into such a state on the Overton road. There were a lot of black horses in the world, after all. And lots of black cloaks, no matter how inky-dark or how huge the enveloping hoods. But no, I knew that figure, I knew that massive, muscular horse, with the thick, flowing mane and black feather around its hooves. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

  Well, I thought. Even if it is the same man, he might not be heading for the cottage.

  Oh, who am I kidding? Where else is he likely to be going? And if there’s only the one of them here, where are the other two?

  I should get back to Black Oak. I should warn my new mistress, but what were my chances of getting ahead of him, what with the heavy load on my back and the nanny-goat at my side? I could leave the basket and tether the goat and then run back unburdened, but what if he saw me? He’d made short work of Brian, and him a full-fledged wizard with a university degree and everything. I was just a servant girl.

  On the other hand, what if Aleida had fallen asleep again? I’d shouted and pounded on the door last night for what felt like an age, and she hadn’t heard me. Mind you, she’s had some decent food since then. Well, some food, anyway. And she seemed more lively this morning than she did last night. Maybe she’ll have some way of sensing that he’s coming. Maybe . . .

  But what good will it do her knowing he’s coming if she doesn’t have the strength to face him?

  What good would I do by getting in the way?

  I bit my lip. I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing.

  With one more peek, I watched the rider round the bend and head out of sight, and then I scurried back across the road, dragging the goat with me. She was rather less than willing — it must have been a tasty bush.

  I had only a rough idea where the cottage lay when cutting across country, but I settled on a direction that led a safe distance away from the road and set out, as fast as my weary legs and the bleating goat would let me.

  Once the road was well out of sight I cast around for a handy patch of shrubs and found one that I hoped was as tasty as the bush out by the road, and tethered the nanny to it.

  I was just checking the knot of the lead-rope when I heard a twig crack behind me.

  Straightening with a gasp I whirled around to find a tall, skinny boy behind me, brown eyes watching from beneath a mop of auburn curls. ‘Kian!’ I gasped, laying a hand to my throat. ‘You scared the life out of me!’

  He started to smile, to make some small joke, but then he saw the worry in my face. ‘Dee, what’s wrong?’

  ‘On the road,’ I said. ‘There was a rider . . . he’s bad news. Really bad. He passed us on the road up here and now he’s headed for the cottage.’

  Kian’s dark, arched eyebrows climbed his forehead. ‘All in black, on a black horse?’

  I nodded. ‘You saw him?’

  ‘I caught a glimpse and decided to make myself scarce.’

  ‘I have to get back to the cottage,’ I said. ‘I have to warn Aleida. Kian, I know you don’t like her, but she . . . she truly doesn’t seem that bad to me. Not like that fellow on the road. Can you help me? Please? Just point me in the right direction to get back there and warn her.’

  He studied me with worried eyes. ‘I’ll do you better than that, Dee. I’ll take you there.’

  CHAPTER 4

  By the time the cottage came into view, I was panting hard, my legs burning. Kian ran like a deer, fleet as the wind, feet barely touching the ground. Not like me, with my skirts flapping behind me like laundry on the line.

  Kian slowed, then halted, holding up a hand to warn me to stop. ‘Hear that?’ he murmured.

  I listened, and shook my head. I couldn’t hear a thing.

  ‘They’re around the front,’ he whispered. ‘This way.’ Bent double and crouching low, he headed around the cottage while I bunched up my skirts and followed as best I could.

  I joined him in a tangle of ferns, sheltering behind a gnarled tree, bent over so that its branches nearly swept the ground.

  Sitting heavy in the saddle, the man was guiding the big black horse through the same tangled path I’d crept through the night before. It made no sense to me that anyone would tackle that approach on horseback, and it seemed the rider reached the same conclusion because he stiffly, unwillingly, kicked his feet from the stirrups and slithered down.

  While he was in the act of sliding from the saddle, a patch of air between him and the house shimmered, rippling like air on a hot, still day.

  By the time he was on the ground, the ripple had condensed into the image of a woman — Aleida, wrapped in a gauzy black robe. It wasn’t the Aleida I knew, though. Her sallow skin had turned a heartier, golden hue, and her hair had been tamed from its bird’s nest to float around her like weeds in water. Her bare feet floated a good four feet above the ground. She knew he was here, then. That made me feel a little better, but it raised about a dozen new q
uestions in my head.

  ‘Who approaches?’ she said, her voice a dark purr.

  The cloaked figure stiffened, and turned. ‘You aren’t Gyssha.’

  ‘No,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘How terribly observant. You must be powerful indeed. Truly a force to be reckoned with.’

  The cloaked man looked like he didn’t know how to take that. At least, that was my impression, it was hard to tell with his face hidden in that ridiculous hood. Part of me — the stupid part of me that always had very bad ideas, and to which I tried never to listen — wondered if he would even see me if I stood up and waved my arms over my head.

  Mind you, I wasn’t sure my powers of sight were much better. She said she was sick. She told me she was weak, wounded, but it was a lie. And I believed every word. I pressed myself lower into the green ferns and ground my teeth.

  ‘I’m here to see the Blackbone,’ the man said.

  ‘You’re looking at her.’

  ‘I mean Gyssha,’ he snapped. ‘Gyssha Blackbone.’

  ‘Gyssha’s gone,’ said Aleida. ‘There’s a new mistress here now.’

  The man shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking uncertain. The horse tossed its head, champing on the bit. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I had a deal with Gyssha. I expect you to honour it.’

  ‘Well, that rather depends,’ Aleida said, her voice like black silk. ‘What was the deal?’

  ‘For the dryad.’

  I was close enough to see her chin lift, and her eyes widen. ‘Ah,’ she said. ‘No.’

  ‘No?’ The note of strangled outrage in his voice reminded me of Lem. As much as I was scathed over my mistress’s trickery, I couldn’t help but smile at his indignation. ‘What do you mean, no?’

  ‘Are you hard of hearing?’ Aleida snapped. ‘Or do you just have worms for brains? There is no deal. No dryad. Go.’

  The rider stood still, but the horse tossed its head, as though reacting to tension it could feel through the reins. ‘Do you know who I am?’ the man rasped.