by Jo Spurrier
The shadow-creature slammed into us, and again I felt the inky blackness wrap around me. This time, in the frozen, biting darkness, I felt the touch of something sharp, like teeth or claws, or knives perhaps, and I understood where the wound on Aleida’s arm had come from.
But then, before the wicked edge could sink in, a tracery of light flared over the shadow-creature, glowing strands knotted together like a hunter’s net.
Suddenly I was lying on the grass, my legs tangled with Aleida’s, her body pinning my arm to the ground. She struggled free of me just as I did of her, and each of us scrambled back, out of reach of the thrashing black cloud pinned down under a net of light.
‘Ha!’ Aleida said. ‘Got you.’
With her hands on the grass she got her legs beneath herself and slowly straightened, wobbling and unsteady. Once she was standing upright, she pulled a knife from her belt, and with the wand in her other hand, brought them both together. She began to speak in a language I didn’t understand, saying words that thrummed in my ears, and with a tool in each hand, began to scribe a symbol that hung in the air in a glowing tracery of blue light. Then, with a final gesture, and a word that crackled like fire in dry grass, she slashed through the glowing symbol, and it shattered into myriad fragments.
The fragments blasted towards the captured shadow, and when they hit the inky blackness, they began to burn with a clear blue flame, as bright and brilliant as the summer sky.
The shadow-creature howled and shrieked, thrashing and fighting, but it couldn’t escape the blue flame. In moments, there was nothing left but ash.
CHAPTER 8
Aleida staggered to the back step and sat heavily on the stone, breathing hard as she slumped against the wall.
I stayed where I was. I felt frozen. Numb. A short time ago, I’d had the thought that strangeness meant safety, but now, now I felt cut adrift from everything I thought I knew.
With an effort of will, I unstuck my feet from the ground and headed over to my mistress. She still had her wand and knife in her hands, and her right arm was a sheet of blood, dripping on the stone.
I pulled my handkerchief from my apron pocket and offered it to her, gesturing to the wound. Wearily, she lifted her head, and then waved it away with a grimace. ‘No, no. No sense ruining it. I’ll deal with it in a moment, I just need to catch my breath.’
I crouched on my heels to peer at her face. Her golden skin was sallow and ashen, not at all a healthy shade. ‘Do you want some water?’
‘Gods, yes.’
To get to the well I had to walk past the charred spot on the turf where the shadow-creature had died. I steeled myself to stride past it without flinching. I could still feel the heat left behind by the blue flames.
I brought her some water, and fetched some for the horse as well, though not so much he’d give himself bellyache from drinking his fill before he’d cooled down. I stripped off the saddle and bridle too, and felt guilty for not walking him until he’d cooled, but I wasn’t game to stray too far from the cottage and its defences right now.
With the saddlebags and the sack of ingredients in my arms, I came back to the step in time to see Aleida wipe her hand along the cut on her arm, firmly, as though trying to rub off a smear of grime. With one stroke of her hand, the cut was gone, and only a faint white line in her skin was left within the smear of blood.
I set the bags and sack at her feet. ‘Now that’s a neat trick.’
‘Mind over matter, kid,’ she said, without looking up. ‘It only really works on little things, though.’ She looked down at her bloody palm and, with a shrug, wiped it off on her skirt. I started to understand why all her clothes were dyed black.
Then, her eye fell on the saddlebags, and her face lit up. ‘You got them!’ She started to rummage through the packs, and as she stretched her legs out for balance, the dog’s feet peeked out from beneath the hem of her skirts once again.
‘What in the gods’ names was that thing?’ I said, my voice still trembling. ‘Where did it come from?’
‘It’s called a Nefari, not that that would mean much to you. It’s a creature from the nether realms; they feed on blood and fear and pain. Looks like he buried it in the beast he captured, ready to spring out when I destroyed the construct.’ She fixed me with a cold gaze. ‘Searching out the warlock was stupid, Dee. Really, really stupid. Do you have any idea what he’d have done to you if he’d caught you? Man like that, you’d be lucky if all he did was kill you.’ She turned back to her bags, then, and went on. ‘On the other hand, if the Nefari sprung out while I was in the middle of fighting the warlock, it’d be one hell of an unpleasant surprise. So I guess you did me a favour dragging it back here like that.’
‘Is it dead? That blue fire . . .’
‘Yep,’ she said. ‘Aethereal flame. It’s the only way to kill them; everything else just banishes them for a time. Ah,’ she said, pulling a brown leather pouch out of her packs. ‘Finally!’
Inside was a pipe of dark brown wood, a pipe-tool and a pouch of tobacco. Her hands were still shaking, I noticed, as she filled the pipe.
I frowned at the sight of it. Women didn’t smoke, where I was from. My da had smoked — I had a vague memory of curling up on his lap when I was a little girl, while he filled his pipe after a long day. But mostly the smell of the wretched stuff reminded me of Lem. Settling down to fill up his pipe was usually the time he started to lecture me on whatever fault he’d found that day.
Aleida glanced up and seemed to read my distaste. ‘Don’t like it?’ she said. ‘Move upwind then and you won’t smell it so bad. But I need this right now. I’ve had a rough week.’
That much was true, I conceded. ‘I’ve never seen a woman smoke a pipe,’ I said.
‘Haven’t you? Then I know you’ve never been to the Rat’s Nest in Stone Harbour. Not that it’s somewhere you’d want to go. You could burn the place to the ground and the world’d be better off.’ She plucked a twig from the ground near the step. Holding it close to her mouth, she breathed on it, and with a wisp of smoke it caught alight. ‘There are worse vices than tobacco, Elodie. Trust me, I’ve tried most of ’em.’
I felt on edge, tense as a bow-string, and it took me a while to figure out why. It wasn’t just the reek of the tobacco, though that was part of it. I felt like I didn’t know this woman sitting on the step before me. Since I’d first seen her, slouching in the doorway with a lantern in her hand, I’d thought of her as weak and injured. Which she was, undeniably. But she was also powerful in a way I couldn’t comprehend. It was as though there was a slot in my mind for her, but she no longer fit in it.
Aleida glanced up again, one eyebrow raised. ‘No more questions?’
I sat down on the grass and wrapped an arm around my knees. ‘What happened to your feet?’
She glanced down at them with a grimace. ‘Gyssha’s death-curse.’
‘But yesterday when we walked down to the river . . . they were normal then.’
Aleida cleared her throat, and in the blink of an eye the dog’s paws were gone, and a pair of normal, slightly pink human feet were in their place. Then, a second later, the hairy paws were back. ‘Illusion,’ she said. ‘Easy to cast, doesn’t take much power, but it’s just for show. They’re still cursed hard to walk on. Or I can nullify the effects of the curse for a little while, and they turn back properly, but that works by blanking out all magic, so it’s not that useful. Or I could cast a spell that unravels the curse for a time, but that’s hard. A lot of work, a lot of power. More than I can manage right now, and it wouldn’t last long.’
‘Do they hurt?’
She grimaced around the stem of the pipe. ‘They ache. Like wearing boots two sizes too small.’ She pulled her legs in again, flicking the hem of her skirt over to hide them from sight. ‘Well, Dee, you’ve had an exciting morning. Learn anything useful?’
It seemed a pointed question. Lem did that sometimes, hinting that he knew about some mistake I’d supposedly made, some transgression I
had to be punished for. It didn’t matter what I had or hadn’t done, if he made up his mind I’d committed some crime, nothing would convince him otherwise. ‘I know where the warlock’s camped,’ I said. ‘There’s a ravine—’
‘I know where he is,’ she said with a puff of smoke. ‘A little bird told me. The question is, how did you know it was there?’
I felt myself flushing. Stupid. I was stupid to think for a moment there was anything I could tell her that she couldn’t find out herself, and with much less effort. ‘I was only trying to help!’
She waved away my words. ‘Quit it, Dee. I ought to rake you over the coals for doing something like that, but I’m tired, and like I said, better to handle the Nefari now than in the middle of a fight. If I wasn’t on home turf with those defences already in place, it would have been much worse to deal with. But you need to be more careful,’ she said, jabbing the pipe in my direction. ‘It’s all well and good to have some initiative, but trying to track down a warlock when you’ve got no powers and no defences is not the best choice to make if you want to live to see your next birthday, all right?’
I pressed my lips together, sullen, and her mouth quirked in a brief smile. ‘But you still haven’t answered my question. How did you know where to look?’
I looked away, and heard her sigh.
‘Dee,’ she said. Her voice was soft, but there were notes of iron and stone within it. ‘Don’t make me make you tell me.’
My head snapped back, eyes wide, and I remembered how she’d looked at me that night I’d arrived on the doorstep, the darkness in her eyes. She was still sitting slumped, her elbows on her knees as she held the pipe lazily in one hand, but I knew it was no idle threat.
‘I asked someone,’ I snapped. ‘I needed help, with that list you gave me; I don’t know these hills any more than you did when you came here.’
She shrugged, and nodded. ‘Who was it?’
‘Just some local lad.’
Her eyes widened, just a fraction, and then she laughed. ‘A local lad? My, my, Dee, you do move quickly. Anyone I know? Not one of the Sanford boys, is it?’
I’d thought I was blushing before, but now I could feel my cheeks blazing red. ‘No!’
‘Good, last thing I need is Tabby Sanford rallying her whole clan to turn up on my doorstep with torches and pitchforks.’
I swallowed hard. ‘He, he’s scared of you. You and your old mistress.’
She flinched at that word, and I counted it a small victory at the same time as I cursed myself for prodding this woman with powers and skills I couldn’t comprehend. ‘Is he?’ Aleida said, her voice flat. ‘I imagine he had some tales to tell.’
‘He did,’ I said, holding her gaze. ‘He said you poisoned a man in the Lilsfield tavern. He dropped dead leaving a wife and children behind. Is that true?’
She took a long draw on the pipe. And then she nodded. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I did do that. To be fair, I didn’t poison him in the tavern, but he did die there.’ She sighed a cloud of smoke and looked away from me, out across the meadow. ‘He was a drunk who liked to smack his little kids around, and one day he cracked his two-year-old’s head on the side of the fireplace. Their older girl came here to beg for help. Gyssha was busy with something or other, but she told me I could try my hand on the girl if I wanted to. She was a right mess, but I managed to fix her up. Took me all blasted night and it was bloody hard work, I’ll tell you. The whole time that wretched man was blubbering and weeping about how sorry he was and how it would never happen again. He swore to me that he’d never touch another drop. I didn’t believe a damn word. So I told him to put his money where his mouth was — I made up a potion and told him that if he ever took another drink he’d keel over dead on the spot, and if he truly loved his family he’d drink it.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘Yeah.’
‘How long did it take?’
‘I think it was ten days.’ Aleida raked a hand through her hair and grimaced. ‘I told you, there’s a lot of things I’m not proud of, Dee. I shouldn’t have done it. I could have made it so that the smallest sip would make him puke up his toenails, or shit his britches or spend the rest of the night thinking he’s a chicken . . .’ She curled a hand around her face, covering her mouth as she stared out into nothing. ‘But then I think of that little girl with her head cracked open, and, well, what’s done is done. At least he’s not going to beat those children anymore.’
‘Are they still around here? The rest of the family, I mean?’
‘No. After he died they moved away. I wasn’t too happy with the mother, either, she used to drink with him and she never tried to protect the little ones. Of course, Gyssha thought the whole affair was hilarious. You should have heard her cackling when she heard about it.’
I frowned, knotting my fingers together as I thought. ‘But the lad said that you wouldn’t help, when people got sick. He said people died that you could have saved.’
Again, she nodded. ‘Yeah. That happened. More than I like to think about.’
‘But Gyssha let you save that little girl.’
Aleida shifted, stiffly, pressing a hand to her sore ribs. ‘Look, you have to understand, Gyssha didn’t serve anyone but herself. Knowing how to save someone with their head bashed in is useful. But you don’t waste that skill on every peasant who comes weeping to your door. She let me do it once in a while, to learn how. To practise. And probably to get me out of her hair, so she could do something behind my back. The rest of the time . . .’
‘But you could have done something! His mother died because you wouldn’t help them!’
‘What did you want me to do, defy her?’
‘Yes!’
‘No! If I’d tried, she’d have killed the woman anyway. You don’t understand, Dee, you never met Gyssha. I tried, Lord and Lady, I tried. One time I defied her I ended up with my hands in a gods-damned jar and she made me beg for a week to get them back. She could turn your mind inside-out and leave you writhing in the dirt, begging her to cut your throat ’cos it’ll never be right again. She’ll give you nightmares that’ll make you afraid to ever fall asleep. She’ll make you crave the scorpion’s sting, make you long for the touch of red-hot steel like you long for a lover’s kiss.’
I let the words wash over me without sinking in. I was good at that. I’d had lots of practice, back at home. ‘And then you ran away. You ran and left all these people with her.’
‘Yeah. Yeah, I ran, like a whipped hound. I’ve got the feet now to remind me of it, every damn day. Listen, little girl, you think I don’t know what the folk around here think of me? You think I care?’
I glared at her, refusing to look away, refusing to give in and drop my head. ‘He said you had a temper. He said you had a mean streak.’
‘Well, maybe he does know me, after all,’ she snapped. Then, pipe gripped in her teeth, she snatched up the sack, and heaved herself to her feet. ‘Enough of this,’ she muttered, ‘I’ve got work to do.’ Holding on to the wall for balance, she staggered inside, and slammed the door shut behind her.
For a time I just sat there, stewing. I didn’t know what to think. It seemed that everything Kian had told me was the truth, just not all of it. But did that make any difference? It didn’t change what happened. His mother still died because Aleida refused to help. Did why she refused make any difference? Not to Kian, or his poor ma.
On the other hand, Aleida knew it was wrong. She’d done something about it. You could call her a coward for just running away and leaving Gyssha behind, but what if she’d attacked her then and died for it? Or maybe she should have stayed and kept trying to reduce the harm that Gyssha did?
I bit my lip at the thought of that. I had an inkling of what that might be like, after all those years with Lem and Ma. As much as I loved my ma, I couldn’t deny I held a little knot of scorn buried deep in my chest for the way she turned the other cheek and pretended not to hear Lem carry on about how lazy and selfish I was after I’d
worked all blessed day to clean his house and wash his clothes and cook his food.
Why should I scorn Aleida for running away? I’d thought of it too. I just hadn’t ever climbed the hurdle of actually doing it.
At least in the end she’d come back to put it right — or as right as it could ever be when a young family lay cold in the ground, for no other reason than an evil witch’s whims.
I could imagine what Kian would say to that: a pity she waited so long. If she’d come sooner, maybe Bennett and his family would still be alive. I wondered, though, if he’d still say that if he saw what I saw. Aleida might have won that fight with her old mistress, but the cost had been high. Between the battle and Gyssha’s death-curse, she had been left crippled and weak. If I hadn’t come along, the gods only knew what state she’d be in by now.
I sighed and shook out my skirts. I couldn’t deny she was as prickly as a cat in a thorn bush, but I reckoned she’d come by it honestly. Who am I to say what she should and shouldn’t have done, anyway? I thought as I heaved myself up. I was just a servant girl, and there were chores to be done.
I saw to the horse, fetching him more water and brushing the sweat from his coat, and then I found a spot in the stables to stow the saddle and bridle. I took my mistress’s packs inside and dumped them by the bed. Coming out again, I noticed something on the mantelpiece that hadn’t been there before — a bone-white lump positioned between the teapot and our few unbroken bowls.
Frowning, I crept closer, only to jump back when the shape of it became clear. It looked like a spider made out of wood, a little larger than the palm of my hand, with legs whittled from twigs and jointed with wire, and a body that was a bundle of wood shavings wrapped up in thread. There was a stubby crystal sticking out of the plump body, and a number of tiny, sparkling beads woven into the head, which could have been eyes. Frowning, I crept closer.
The spider moved, legs jerking like a marionette as it turned around to face me and then reared up, lifting its front pair of legs wide.
