Ottilie Colter and the Narroway Hunt

by Rhiannon Williams

Wrangler Voilies trotted towards him. ‘Leo, my boy, we need to get you –’

  ‘Someone send for Wrangler Ritgrivvian,’ said Leo, through gritted teeth.

  ‘Ramona? But she’s the horse –’

  ‘Just get her. She’s better with injuries than the wingerslink master.’

  ‘I – all right, yes. Bacon, lad, fetch Ramona Ritgrivvian, quick as you can. Now, Leo –’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere until she sees to Maestro.’

  Amazingly, Wrangler Voilies closed his mouth. Leo, sensing his victory, finally lowered himself to the ground, grimacing in pain. He was very pale. Ottilie wondered if he’d broken his leg.

  Wrangler Voilies turned to Ottilie. They had all been so concerned with Leo that no-one had noticed her until now, but there she was, standing by Leo’s side in her bloodstained shovelie suit. Wrangler Voilies narrowed his eyes and studied her suspiciously, as if she were somehow responsible for Leo’s injuries. ‘Are you injured?’ he barked.

  ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘Go to the infirmary and get yourself checked over. No arguments, Miss Colter. Now!’

  Ottilie scowled. He had no power over Leo and he knew it, so he was taking it out on her. Her neck muscles stiffening under Voilies’ venomous glare, Ottilie stroked Maestro’s neck before reluctantly heading for the infirmary.

  Ottilie had more injuries than she realised. They were mostly bruises she had inflicted on herself by tumbling down the ravine, but there was also a nasty cut on her arm that needed dressing. The patchies gave her a draught for the pain. Although they said she was fine, Ottilie wasn’t allowed to leave; they wanted to keep an eye on her for a couple of hours.

  The infirmary was a low-ceilinged chamber lined with rows of slender beds. It was a clean, comforting space that smelled of fresh mint and thyme. Ottilie was sitting in an armchair by the large square window, gazing out into the sunlit grounds, when the blue double doors were thrown open and a heavily bandaged Leo was carried in on a stretcher. Ottilie jumped to her feet. What had happened? Had his injuries gotten worse?

  She calmed the moment she saw his face. He was scowling and fidgeting. It was clear he had been forced onto the stretcher against his will. Three patchies in grey clothes and pale green caps helped him onto a bed and, grumbling, he immediately pulled himself up into a sitting position. One of the patchies looked like he was about to suggest Leo lie back, but Leo shot him a look so chilling the patchie scuttled into the storeroom instead, muttering something about tea.

  ‘You all right?’ Leo said, turning to Ottilie.

  ‘Fine, mostly bruises. How’s Maestro?’

  ‘He’ll be all right. They’ve stitched him up and put him away to rest.’

  Ottilie felt her shoulders settle as a sigh of relief escaped her lungs. ‘And you?’

  Leo grunted with disgust. ‘Fine. Voilies got the patchies out to treat me in the grounds so I could stay with Maestro.’

  She wondered if his leg was broken, but didn’t dare ask. ‘What was that dredretch?’ She remembered its nightmarish jaws, just inches from her feet – imagined them stretching wide to swallow her whole. She shuddered.

  Leo shook his head, cringed, and leaned back against the wall, squeezing his eyes closed. ‘I have no idea,’ he muttered. ‘I’ve never seen it before and I didn’t recognise it from the bestiaries.’

  ‘Could it be new?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ His eyes slid open. ‘Sometimes new ones pop up that they’ve never seen, but they’re usually small. I don’t know how something that big could have gone unnoticed.’ Rubbing his neck, he glanced at her. ‘What were you doing out there? How did you find us?’

  Ottilie explained about the greeve and the scorver and how she’d heard Maestro’s roars.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘You’re out of your mind, Ott – coming after us with a shovel.’

  Ottilie assumed that was his way of saying thank you.

  ‘I didn’t have a choice,’ she said. ‘They took away my bow.’

  Leo looked away from her. Had she detected a hint of shame in his eyes or was that just wishful thinking? Would he go back to loathing her after today?

  ‘Well, you did a good job with mine,’ he said, still not looking at her.

  Ottilie didn’t respond. Part of her didn’t care if he hated her again, because part of her was still furious with him. He had turned her in, and if that wasn’t enough to earn her ire, his treatment of her ever since certainly was.

  The door swung open and Ned strode over to Leo’s bed, trailing mud behind him. ‘I just heard,’ he said. ‘You all right? What have you done to yourself?’

  One of the green-capped patchies clicked his tongue, snatching up a mop bucket and stomping off to fill it.

  ‘Ah, sorry,’ said Ned, glancing guiltily down at the mud. ‘Ott, Gully’s in training with the other fledges but I sent someone to tell him you’re here the moment they’re done.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Ottilie.

  ‘What happened?’ he said, turning back to Leo.

  ‘Found a massive dredretch, bigger than a barro,’ said Leo.

  ‘What species?’

  Leo shrugged. ‘Never seen it before. It knocked Maestro down with its tail, and we fell into the dried-up river, along with a huge chunk of the cliff. My leg got stuck under a rock and Maestro fended it off until Ott found us. She helped me get my leg out and got us back into the air, then I shot it in the eye.’

  It all sounded so simple spoken out loud, so easy – especially her part.

  ‘So. Ottilie saved the day, did she?’ said Ned, grinning.

  Ottilie noted the use of her full name. Ned usually called her Ott out of habit, Scoot did the same, but it was clear he’d used ‘Ottilie’ on purpose. He was trying to make a point.

  Leo looked uncomfortable. He adjusted the strapping on his leg, frowning. ‘Is it broken?’ said Ned.

  ‘Nah, just sort of … crushed.’

  Ned raised his eyebrows. ‘Can you walk on it?’

  ‘Not today,’ said Leo, scowling. Ottilie knew he was sulking over how many points he would miss out on if he was confined to a bed.

  ‘I wonder how much they’ll score you for it,’ said Ned.

  Leo shrugged. ‘They’ll have to figure out what it was first.’ He glanced over at a patchie. ‘Can you get a message to Wrangler Morse and tell him I’m requesting an urgent audience with the Fiory Directorate?’

  ‘Right away,’ said the patchie.

  Ottilie sighed quietly. She was well and truly sick of Leo being treated like the Crown Prince of the Narroway.

  ‘Ottilie! Ottilie, stop snoring!’

  Ottilie forced her eyes open. The sculkies’ bedchamber was bright around her. The lamps were lit. Most of the girls were still up and working, but with the help of the patchies’ draught Ottilie had been asleep since the fifth bell.

  ‘Skip, what?’ she groaned. She’d been up since before dawn, lifted a huge rock, felled four jivvies, and helped take down an unknown dredretch bigger than a barrogaul while hanging off a wingerslink’s saddle. She was exhausted.

  ‘They want to see you,’ said Skip, forcing her upright.

  ‘Who, Gully? I saw him before,’ she said, flopping back down.

  Skip yanked her back up and said, ‘Do I need to slap you awake? No, the directorate want to see you. Get up!’

  Ottilie’s eyes snapped open. ‘What? Why?’ Her breath grew short. What had she done? Was she on trial again?

  Skip was scowling. ‘I don’t know, but you need to go.’

  Ottilie clambered out of bed, wincing. Her muscles had already stiffened. It had been two months since she’d last ridden a wingerslink and her legs were not happy. The widespread bruising didn’t help. She hobbled towards the door.

  ‘Here, wait!’ Skip pulled her back and shoved a clean dress at her. ‘You look terrible,’ she breathed as Ottilie changed, revealing her bruised and torn skin. Once she was dressed, Skip pushed her down onto the bed and ran a c
omb through her hair, trying her best to smooth down the curls. It was getting longer by the day, but Ottilie couldn’t decide whether to keep cutting it. Finally Skip deemed her presentable. She took her arm and stayed by her side all the way to the circular chamber.

  Wrangler Furdles was waiting at the entrance. He greeted Ottilie with a nasty one-eyed scowl, and opened the door without a word.

  ‘Good luck,’ whispered Skip, squeezing her arm.

  Ottilie swallowed and stepped into the room. Conductor Edderfed sat on his throne. The three Fiory directors were seated below and, in the centre of the room, facing the directorate, sat Leo.

  What was this about? Did they want to hear her account of the dredretch? Wasn’t Leo’s information enough?

  ‘Miss Colter,’ said Conductor Edderfed, ‘thank you for coming, please take a seat.’

  Ottilie’s face grew steadily hotter as she settled into the empty seat beside Leo.

  ‘Mr Darby has informed us of the events of the day,’ said Conductor Edderfed.

  Ottilie glanced sideways. Leo was looking away from her. What had he done? What had he said? Had he got her into more trouble somehow?

  ‘We would like to commend you for the extraordinary bravery you showed today in coming to the aid of Mr Darby here, armed with nothing but a … shovel, was it, Leonard?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Leo.

  They had brought her here to commend her? That was it?

  ‘Mr Darby has requested that we rethink your dismissal from the Hunt, and I have to say, he has made a very convincing case for you.’

  Ottilie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Leo had come to ask if they would let her be a huntsman again? Leo, who had triggered her dismissal in the first place, had convincingly argued her case? He must have told the story a lot better than the way he explained it to Ned.

  ‘We have put it to a vote,’ said Conductor Edderfed, ‘and the majority agrees that Mr Darby’s testimony, along with a character reference from Wrangler Morse, is sufficient to warrant your reinstatement.’

  Ottilie’s heart leapt even as tears welled in her eyes.

  Just to her right, Captain Lyre flashed the sallow-skinned Director Yaist a smug smile.

  ‘I will write to my co-conductors this evening and, should the Richter and Arko Directorates have no objections, you will be officially reinstated at summer’s end.’

  ‘What – why – what did you do?’ said Ottilie, walking slowly beside Leo as he struggled back to the infirmary on his crutches.

  ‘Just told them what happened,’ said Leo, ‘and how Ned saw you take out that lycoat the other week.’

  Ottilie was still suffering from a small amount of shock. Her voice sounded strange in her own ears. ‘And what? They just changed their minds? They don’t care that I lied anymore? Or that I’m a girl?’

  Leo scowled. ‘I convinced them that you’re a wasted asset, Ott. Why are you interrogating me? You should be thanking me.’

  She scowled right back. ‘Thanking you? Where’s my thank you? I got your leg out from under that rock!’

  Leo looked furious and Ottilie had the sudden urge to push him over. It would only take a gentle shove to topple him.

  ‘Look, just … get yourself back into shape, all right. I don’t want you messing up again when we get back out there.’

  ‘We? You’re going to be my guardian again?’ She felt an excited swooping in her stomach.

  ‘Course I am.’

  ‘What about Preddy?’

  ‘They’ll find someone else for Noel. He’ll be happy anyway, I’m pretty sure he missed the mounts. He and Maestro didn’t get on,’ said Leo, holding back a smile.

  ‘You don’t think they’ll send him back to Richter, though?’ They had only just got Preddy back. She didn’t want to lose him again.

  ‘What? No. I don’t know. Who cares? They’ll figure it out. Are you going to say thank you or not?’

  Ottilie stopped. ‘Am I going to say thank you?’ She glared at him in disbelief. ‘You were the one who turned me in in the first place! Oh yes, thank you, Leonard. Thank you so much for telling them about how I saved your life today! That was so kind of you not to lie and say you did it all on your own,’ she snapped.

  His face turned scarlet. ‘I would have got out of it on my own!’

  ‘Oh, all right, then!’ Ottilie threw up her hands. ‘Thank you so much for letting me save you so you could use the story to undo the mess you made and ease your guilt for being so horrible to me just because I’m a girl!’ she said in one long breath.

  ‘I – you sound like a crazy person!’

  Ottilie took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, more calmly.

  ‘What? For … ?’

  ‘For lying. You didn’t make the mess. I did. I didn’t have a choice, but it was my mess. You didn’t make it – but you made it worse!’

  He glared at her. ‘Well –’

  ‘But thank you for fixing your mistake.’ And with that she turned and stormed away.

  She had left Leo well behind when Gully came bounding along the corridor.

  ‘Ottilie!’ His face shone with excitement. ‘Skip just told me you had to go see them. What did they say?’ His energy was infectious. And so, almost forgetting her anger, Ottilie told him what had happened.

  Gully’s joy smothered her bad mood immediately. Eyes alight, he did a celebratory leap before locking his arms around Ottilie’s ribs and squeezing tight.

  ‘We’re both huntsmen now! Or you’re a hunt … huntswoman? Huntress?’ he released her.

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘I think huntsman can be for both.’

  Gully beamed. ‘Let’s show them, Ottilie!’ he said, breathless with excitement. ‘Let’s win it … be champions!’

  ‘I don’t think you can have two champions in one tier.’

  ‘We can get the same points – tie for it! I want to be great at this. I think I could be!’

  She smiled and shoved him with her shoulder. ‘Me too. Come on, it’s late.’

  ‘I want to be the best,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t tell anyone,’ he added, seriously.

  Ottilie laughed. ‘I won’t.’

  31

  Summer’s End

  Grey skies swallowed the last moon of summer and an autumn sun peeked above the trees. It was summer’s end. The directorates of Richter and Arko hadn’t objected, and Ottilie was a huntsman again. She woke in her old private bedchamber to the sound of a knock on the door.

  ‘Co–’ she cleared her throat. ‘Come in.’

  Skip slid into the room. ‘Good morning Ottilie Colter, first female Fiory fledgling.’

  Ottilie half-yawned, half-grinned. ‘Morning Isla Skipper, superior sculkie and secret keeper.’

  Skip threw the window shutters open wide and Ottilie blinked in the light. She smiled, feeling happier than she had in a long time. She had so much to look forward to. She was a huntsman, and there was an end-of-summer festival planned for the evening, with lights, music and lots of food. It was going to be a very good day.

  ‘This is just the beginning, you know.’ Skip flopped down on the bed. ‘You’ve got Leo on side now, and there’s Gully, Ned, Preddy and Scoot.’ She crawled up to the top of the bed to sit cross-legged beside Ottilie’s head.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said Ottilie, pulling herself up.

  ‘You’ve got all those huntsmen in your corner. You saw how influential Leo was. The Hunt rely on their huntsmen, they’re nothing without them. Get enough of them on your side and you could really change things.’

  ‘On my side? Are there really sides, Skip?’

  ‘That’s my point – there shouldn’t be.’

  Ottilie groaned and flopped back down onto her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut. ‘It’s too early in the morning for riddles,’ she grumbled.

  Skip pulled her back up, shaking her until she gave in and opened her eyes. Ottilie laughed and shoved her away. ‘What? What do you want? T
hem to start kidnapping girls as well as boys?’

  Skip laughed, then frowned. ‘At least if they did, it would mean they see our potential as equal. It’s a start. That’s all I’m saying. They’ve put you as an equal to all those boys, Ottilie. I don’t think you know what a huge step that is.’

  ‘But it’s just me. They’re not changing anything. If they had a magic spell that could turn me into a boy, they would use it.’

  ‘Lucky for us, they don’t. Like it or not, they’ve got a female huntsman,’ she grinned.

  ‘I still can’t believe Leo changed his mind.’ Ottilie ground her teeth. She was still annoyed that his mind had needed changing in the first place.

  ‘Of course he did. There’s nothing like being faced with death to sort out what’s important from what’s not –’

  On the word death Ottilie remembered something: the hooded figure standing on the cliff above Leo. She tucked the memory away. She didn’t want to think about it. Not now.

  ‘– he nearly died, you brought down the dredretch together, all that rubbish faded away and whether he admits it or not, he recognised you as an equal.’

  Ottilie snorted. ‘I’m not sure Leo sees anyone as an equal … except maybe Maestro.’

  Skip rolled her eyes in agreement. ‘Even so, you’re going to make a difference, Ottilie, I can feel it.’ She jiggled her knees. ‘We’re not in the Usklers anymore. This is the Narroway. Why would they bother wasting their energy shoving us girls back into the shadows when there are real live monsters to fight?’

  ‘What are you saying, Skip? What do you want me to do? I’m only a fledge. I don’t matter to them that much.’

  ‘Just be you. Be great. And try your best to win – make them name you champion. We’ll see how much you matter to them after that.’

  Becoming a champion, as it turned out, was going to be pretty close to impossible. The sun was just settling down to sleep as Ottilie climbed the cliff stairway on her way back from visiting Maestro. The disgruntled wingerslink may have been recovering quickly, but he was seriously displeased about being cooped up to heal.

  Passing by the torch-lit raptor statues, Ottilie caught sight of a figure on crutches standing beneath the rankings. Assuming that after a week of deliberation they had finally scored Leo for felling the unknown dredretch, Ottilie wandered over to see.