Between the Water and the Woods

by Simone Snaith

  Emeline helped to gather dry sticks with the boys as Dada walked over toward Reese. They made an odd pair when they stood next to each other; Reese was even taller than Dada and just as broad-shouldered. Dada gestured politely while Reese looked down his nose at him.

  “Where do you train to become a Lash Knight?” Dale asked Fish, who was coaxing the first sparks of fire from the kindling.

  “There’s some sort of academy, but I don’t know much about it.”

  “Were there ever any from Equane?”

  Fish laughed at that, looking up at him. “An academy costs money, son! Only a rich man’s son could become a Lash Knight. It’s not for villagers.”

  Dale looked crestfallen, but not entirely surprised. Sir Reese was a rich man’s son, then. That’s why he’s so condescending, Emeline thought, irritated. He looks down on farmers like us. She squeezed Dale’s shoulder as fish were laid out across the flames.

  “By the time you’re grown, maybe things will be different,” she told him. He nodded.

  “When I grow up, I’m going to leave Equane and make money somewhere,” Aladane announced. “You can come with me, Dale, and then we’ll save up for the academy.” Fish snorted and shook his head.

  Dada was walking back toward them now, alone. The knight was heading to the lodge.

  “Was he friendly?” Dale asked him at once.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Dada replied. “He said he came outside because the cook was singing like a dying screech-owl.” Dale and Aladane laughed, but Emeline rolled her eyes. Dada turned to Fish. “Did you know they have an underground water system in the capital? He says it’s all automated.”

  “What for? Connecting wells?”

  Emeline only half listened as she watched the sullen knight reach the lodge. Out of nowhere, a large dog rushed him, bounding with glee. She tensed, half expecting the knight to yell at or even kick it, but he dropped to one armored knee and started scratching behind its ears. Relieved, she watched as the dog licked him full in the face.

  “Sir Reese doesn’t believe in the Ithin,” Dada said, catching Emeline’s attention.

  “Oh, no. He thinks we’re lying?” Dale asked, dismayed.

  “No, he didn’t say that.” Surprisingly, Emeline thought. “I just asked what people in the capital thought about magic and Dark Creatures, with the Sapients and Theurgists going at it,” Dada told them. “He said no one knows for sure. Most people just go about their business.”

  “I can believe that,” Fish said, nodding.

  Dada poked at the fish on the fire. “He doesn’t seem to think much of this Rellum Sapient. But then, I’m not sure he thinks much of anyone.”

  Fish shook his head, annoyed. “If all the folks in the capital are like that, then I’m glad we won’t be staying long.”

  rode for days on end, passing through fields of waving grasses. Sometimes they saw clusters of cottages or glimpsed the gates of towns, but mostly they were alone.

  Nights were spent in the wagon under the stars. Emeline would watch Sir Reese and Innish see to Rellum Sapient’s needs, then set up camp for themselves while the old man slept in his carriage.

  Every so often, another steam-carriage would go by. Once, a plain one driven by a boy her age passed them. He was a very handsome boy in the way that some girls liked—full lips and a smooth face—and he smiled and nodded when Dale waved at him. He didn’t interest her, just as no one back home ever had, but if someone had asked her what sort of boy she liked, she wouldn’t have been sure what to say.

  Was Sir Reese considered handsome, she wondered? There was something magnetic about him, about his strength and green eyes, but he was all fierceness and arrogance.

  One evening, clouds gathered overhead, bringing the smell of rain. A storm was usually welcome weather in the village, since water meant both safety and crop growth, but out in the open, it was unfamiliar. Threatening.

  “We better get the cover up,” Dada said. “Come on, Dale.” He climbed into the back, stepping on Aladane and waking him up from a nap. They started cranking the handles that raised the leather half-roof.

  “Throw me up some of those leather blankets!” Fish called from the front. Emeline traded places with Aladane and dug for them. The roof of the wagon didn’t quite cover the front seat, so he and Dada were likely to get wet.

  “I’d rather be inside for this,” Fish grumbled. Dada rejoined him on the front seat, looking worried. They draped themselves in the stiff leather blankets as a distant rumble shook the air and a strong breeze swept under the wagon cover.

  Up ahead, Innish rode toward the steam-carriage. He was wearing a heavy cloak and carrying a second one.

  “I bet that’s for Loddril,” Dale said solemnly. Emeline gasped, realizing the assassin would have to weather the storm on top of the carriage. The carriage driver was unfolding a little canopy from behind his seat, but it would only shelter him—and not very well, from the looks of it. Innish tossed the cloak up onto the roof. A bound pair of hands shot up and grabbed hold of it.

  “A fitting punishment for that scoundrel,” Fish observed. “I can’t say I’ll be sorry if he drowns.”

  “Me neither,” Dada said. “But then I suppose they won’t get any information out of him.”

  “Do you think Lash Knights will torture him at the capital?” Aladane asked. Innish was riding up to their wagon now, nodding at Fish and Dada.

  “They’re supposed to have a code of honor. So they wouldn’t torture people,” Dale told him, but he sounded uncertain. “It would be wrong.”

  “A lot of sudden storms in this area!” Innish hailed them. “This could be a bad one. I’ll ride back here with you for a while.”

  “Thank you,” Dada told him.

  Innish steered his horse to walk beside them as a boom of thunder made Emeline flinch. Dada gestured to her to pass up another leather blanket, which he offered to the guard; Innish took it, nodding his thanks as the first few drops fell.

  “The air feels weird,” Aladane said. It was chilly but balmy; heavy, but impatient.

  “What if it’s a tornado?” Dale exclaimed, alarmed. He started flipping pages in the History book.

  “Those are only in the Outer Lands,” Fish told him.

  “No, they aren’t! There was one in the kingdom when they first built the capital!” Dale said, pointing to a page. “They had to rebuild a lot.” There was a drawing of a massive column of wind twisting and slanting through a city.

  At that moment, lightning flashed and the horses screamed, startling everyone. Rain tumbled from the sky, slapping the wagon roof with shocking force; the men’s leather covers were instantly soaked. This was not the soft, soothing rain that fell in Equane.

  Dada turned around and yelled reassuringly, “See, Dale, it’s not a tornado! There’s hardly any wind!”

  He was right. The rain came straight down as if from a giant bucket.

  The horses plodded along reluctantly as the torrent continued, drenched and steaming. Thunder rumbled and lightning cracked, illuminating Emeline’s view from under the wagon cover: Fish and Dada, the back of the carriage, and a curtain of water. She felt gnawingly guilty for the protection she and the boys had.

  “When did they build the capital, Dale?” she asked, since he was still looking at the History book. She wanted to distract him from the storm, but she had to shout to be heard.

  “It says 970!” he shouted back. “King Eldid!”

  “Was that the mad one?” Aladane asked.

  Thunder roared and then they heard Innish’s voice through the wagon cover. “No, that was Gabane!” he answered. He was riding very close.

  “I like his stories the best!” Aladane yelled back.

  “He built the underground tunnels!” Dale added.

  Fish glared back at them, water dripping from his nose. “Stop
hollering back there! Bless water!”

  Emeline burst out laughing. “There’s plenty of it to bless!”

  The wagon rocked to one side suddenly and she stopped laughing, realizing they might break another axle. Innish, a lumpy shape under his rain gear, rode forward to check on Ma’am Kayley’s horses.

  “Everything all right?” Dada called.

  “They’re just stumbling!”

  Dale put the book away, and everyone fell silent as they plowed on. The rain would ebb for a few moments and then crash down again, like a thousand stones striking the wagon roof. Emeline’s head began to throb, almost to the rhythm. It was growing colder, too, and she knew Dada and Fish must be freezing.

  After a miserable hour, Sir Reese rode back to meet them, the rain running off his armor in streams. He roared something to Innish, who nodded.

  “Shelter ahead!” Innish called to Fish and Dada, and Emeline sighed with relief. She could see nothing now but water and darkness as they followed the carriage off the flooded road. It felt like they were floundering through a shallow canal, and her stomach rolled as the wagon lurched.

  Finally, the carriage slowed down in front of them, and Fish reined in the struggling horses.

  “Where are we?” Aladane yelled.

  “There’s a house!” Dada called to them. “Get whatever leather blankets we have left!”

  “Maybe we should all just stay in the wagon!” Dale said, and Aladane nodded. They would have to leave the shelter of the wagon to run inside.

  “Come on!” Emeline told them. Dada and Fish had already jumped out into the rain and were cursing while unhitching the horses.

  “I can’t see! What if we can’t find where to go?” Aladane wailed. Emeline gripped his shoulder.

  “I’ll be right behind you! Go on!” She ducked under the blanket with Dale, and Aladane, grumbling, climbed out the front. They heard him shriek—and then they followed.

  She landed with a splash in icy, knee-deep water. The rain struck with a force that knocked Dale over, so she jerked him to his feet and dragged him forward, running and splashing through the flood. She was holding her breath, squinting, nearly blind, and then she crashed into Dada’s waiting arms and was pulled inside.

  They were in a vast, dim room that stank of mildew and rot. A great tree trunk grew up from the floor through the high ceiling, rainwater pouring down its trunk. The walls—what she could see of them in the dark—looked like cracked, heavy stonework, and the floor was covered with dead leaves.

  But this high-ceilinged place had been something grand, once. She could see that.

  Gasping, she shoved the drenched leather blanket off of her, then unbuckled her bodice and shook out the wet dress underneath. She was soaked, but not completely through—thanks to riding under the half-roof, her underclothes were still dry. Everyone stood spluttering and shaking off layers, dropping them to the dirty floor. The horses whinnied in misery, crowded together in the corner.

  “What is this place?” she asked Dada.

  “Somewhere abandoned,” he told her, crouching wearily and looking more bedraggled than she had ever seen him. His dark hair was plastered to his head, and water ran off him and the shivering Fish in rivers.

  “Never seen that much rain in my life,” Fish growled.

  “We’re all going to catch cold and die,” Aladane said mournfully. She almost laughed.

  “If it weren’t for that abominable racket on the roof, I’d have simply stayed in my carriage,” an unfamiliar voice announced, thin, crackly, and very indignant.

  It was Rellum Sapient. He sat awkwardly on a massive tree root, his long, dripping robe gathered up into his lap. His driver knelt beside him, quivering, his livery soaked through. They were watching Innish scrape a flint against a stick.

  Sir Reese was unstrapping his armor. “Now that’s what we should’ve done with Loddril,” he said. “Toss him in the carriage and let him listen to that noise.”

  He caught sight of Emeline as he set his pauldrons on the ground, and stared for a moment. She didn’t know if it was because of how drenched she was or because her bodice was undone, but either way, it was embarrassing. She turned away and took off the bodice; her dress was not revealing, anyway, and everything needed to dry.

  “I’d rather that than be in here with you,” Loddril snarled from somewhere in the dark. Innish chuckled.

  “He’s just sore because I threw him down like a bucket of dishwater,” Sir Reese said.

  “There are trees growing right through this place!” Aladane said, hurrying over to the fire Innish had gotten started.

  His words brought a pang of fear to Emeline’s heart, but it was only a few trees tangled up in the bones of the house, not a forest. Anyway, the rain would protect them from Dark Creatures—surely?

  “This is a lonely old manor. Look at this tile underfoot,” Innish was saying. “I wonder how long it’s been like this.”

  Dale stopped short at the sight of Sir Reese without his armor; the massive knight was all shoulders and muscles in his wet shirt, which gleamed white in the darkness. He folded his arms and looked down at the boy.

  “Is Loddril tied up?” Dale asked him shyly.

  “No, I thought I’d let him wander around a bit. Make himself at home,” Sir Reese replied. Dale smiled uncertainly and went to join Aladane.

  Sir Reese turned his gaze back to Emeline as she stood there in her limp dress in the doorway. She couldn’t read his expression in the dark.

  “I don’t know how you folk live with this kind of weather,” Fish declared, startling her. “This would drown all my crops!” He marched over toward the fire, Dada nodding respectfully to Rellum as he followed him. “Thank you for riding along with us back there,” Fish added, to Innish.

  “Of course. It was Sir Reese’s suggestion.”

  Emeline looked up, surprised.

  “Em, come sit by the fire,” Dada said. She stepped carefully over to him and sat down on the filthy ground. The fire’s meager warmth quickly lifted her spirits.

  “What a terrible journey this has been,” Rellum said gravely. “I won’t unknot until I reach the blessed capital. Remind me never to travel again, Reese.”

  “Why would I do that, when traveling flushed your assassin? This piece of offal can finally tell us who’s been plotting your death.” Reese walked closer to the fire but stopped short of joining them, sitting against the wall. The flames threw long shadows across the room, and Emeline spotted the figure of Loddril near the knight, lying in a puddle.

  “Plotting my death, yes…” The Sapient sighed heavily. “To think it’s come to that.” His old face was tired, but his dark eyes were sharp. Emeline noticed that he looked at each of them shrewdly in turn, rubbing his fingers against his cloak. The corners of his mouth had deep frown lines.

  “Anyone paying attention knew it was coming to that. Once His Majesty named you a likely heir, it was just a question of when and where,” Reese replied. Likely heir? Emeline noticed that Dada and Fish looked up with interest. “When I got the tip that this rat was spotted in Blyne, and that you were due to pass through, well, I knew he was there for you.” He smiled darkly at Loddril. “Sometimes notoriety works against you.”

  “And as to who hired him?” Rellum asked.

  Emeline looked at Rellum, trying to imagine him as the next king. She knew the king had no children, but she had never imagined that the royal heir might be an old man.

  “Well, as to who hired him…I have no proof of anything,” the Sapient said, “but Helid Theurgist…He has certainly engulfed himself in this madness. He will not see one of us crowned.”

  “Well, if you’re right, he might see himself hanged instead,” Reese told him.

  “ ‘If’? Did you know that he’s been giving presentations on the history of magic?” Rellum demanded.

 
; “I did not. Is that what serves as a declaration of war these days?” Reese asked. Innish shot him a disapproving look.

  “You may have saved my life, Knight, but I won’t submit to your sarcasm,” the Sapient said coldly. “You know as well as I that folklore features all kinds of magical nonsense. And that’s just what magic is, no matter how you dress it up—nonsense. Even what seems like harmless folklore can lead to foolish ideas.”

  Emeline looked at Dada, thinking of all the stories in the History book that he’d read to her and Dale. He was frowning, but he said nothing.

  Rellum shook a finger at Reese, warming to the subject. “Consider that popular physician—that Doctor Nallor and his cure-all tonics! There’s no science-based medicine in his draughts, but he compares them to the magical elixirs in ancient stories, and the people readily believe him. Young man, the slush he sells kills by keeping men and women from real medicine, medicine that would help them.”

  “True,” Reese agreed.

  Rellum’s tone softened then, catching Emeline’s expression. “I enjoy a good story as much as anyone, of course. But there is enough fear and superstition in the kingdom as it is, without dwelling on the unenlightened past. And I suspect Helid is worse than deluded…worse than eccentric. He wants the people to believe in dreck so they’ll be soft-headed enough to follow him—to listen to anything he says. He wants the throne.”

  “Enough to resort to violence?” Reese asked.

  “Indeed, he has a dangerous temper,” Rellum continued, in a lower tone. “There have been many arguments between us where I was afraid he might strike me.”

  “Rellum Sapient,” Innish spoke up politely. “Did everyone know your travel route?”

  Rellum shook his head. “Not my route, no. Only that I was visiting my daughter in Basten. My assistants knew, of course, and Erd, who is trustworthy.” He gestured to his driver. Emeline looked at the young man and realized with a start that he was staring at her, smiling. She looked away quickly, feeling suddenly exposed in her sopping dress.

  “It wouldn’t be difficult to bribe one of the assistants,” Reese said. Innish nodded and Rellum frowned, rubbing at his cloak again.