Waer

by Meg Caddy

  ‘Pick it up.’

  It had been a long time since she’d fought with a sword. She picked it up with shaking arms. Cooper’s eyes were lit. He fought with a rapier, the traditional weapon of Pellish swordsmen. His back was straight, legs flexed. Impeccable posture, precise movements and no imagination.

  Kaebha picked up her blade.

  ‘As I was saying, cleanliness is imperative, especially when dealing with half-breeds. They carry disease. I am not just talking about the waer, of course.’ Their blades clashed and Kaebha leapt back. ‘I mean all half-breeds. Elementals, changelings, the lot. In essence, the population of Luthan, and most of the scum in our cells.’ Cooper fought from the wrist, delicate and quick. His footwork was spectacular. He must have trained relentlessly. ‘So be sure to have a slave clean away any blood, and wash yourself thoroughly. When was your last kill?’

  ‘Three days ago.’

  ‘Half-breed?’

  ‘Intruder.’ She hissed as his blade knocked her hand.

  ‘Too slow, Kaebha. Improve your footwork.’ He let her shake out her hand before resuming position. ‘You should hunt more. You cannot climb the ranks if you lack initiative. You need to show Leldh you are actively loyal.’

  ‘Leldh needs me by his side.’

  ‘He needs to know you are committed.’ As Kaebha swung her blade, he caught her arm. ‘You have been here long enough, Kaebha. You need to put the rest of it behind you. He will learn to trust you when you show him how much he means to you.’ His voice softened. ‘I know you feel the same way I do. I know how you admire him.’

  Rare words from Cooper. Kaebha slowly lowered her blade.

  It was a mistake. The hilt of his rapier slammed into her gut, bending her double. Kaebha wheezed and gasped for air. The Pellish man withdrew and sheathed his sword.

  ‘You feel the same way I do,’ he said coldly, ‘but my loyalty has never been questioned. See that yours is equally unwavering, Kaebha. Or one day he may find he has no use for you.’

  Lycaea

  It sat beneath my throat. Always angry. A glowing coal I could not cool. Moth’s expression made it flare, and the awful sounds almost tore from my lips. Whimpers. Snarls. They forced themselves through my body like vomit, and it was all I could do to choke them down again. My body wanted to change. The wolf inside me was pacing. It would tear me apart if it had the chance.

  I would not allow it.

  Needing the distraction, I turned my pain outward and sought someone to gnaw at. Lowell sat by the fire, listening gravely as Dodge continued to explain the Kudhienn to him. He had shrunk since the attack on the Valley. Where there might have been rage, there was only a deep and quiet grief. There was no anger to him. No evidence of a wolf struggling for blood and meat. He had skinned the goat without hesitation, seemed unbothered by the smell. How was it possible? The stench of the goat haunted me. Should it have given me hope, this control of Lowell’s? It was infuriating. Was it so easy for him to pretend there was no beast within? I wanted to hurt him until he showed he felt something. I wanted to bite. I had been able to control it in the Valley, and while we were travelling, but now I was tired. It was hard to keep fighting.

  ‘Lycaea.’

  The tone in Moth’s voice buzzed in my ears, made my skull ache and my face flush. Pity, reproach. I hated her for it.

  ‘You need to Shift.’

  My body almost betrayed me, almost lurched forwards into her words and embraced the sick contortion of bone and flesh. I held myself rigid and still. The pain deafened me. I could smell my own sweat. I could smell Moth’s, and I wondered if she feared for herself. I could not kill her, but in my other shape I could bite off her hand. What right did she have? She was not a waer. She had not been turned against her will. She did not know the impulse to attack, the bloodlust, the way my own senses attacked me at every moment.

  She must have seen it in my eyes. She shrank back.

  Time passed. The urge passed. My muscles relaxed. Ached as they unclenched. I finally willed my legs to move, and they carried me to snatch the waterskin from the ground by Dodge. The storyteller moved aside. A wordless invitation for me to sit by him. I stood by the fire instead, and sipped the water. It helped to clear my head.

  When I felt human again, I sat by Dodge. He smiled at me. I returned my gaze to the fire. Dodge, I knew, would not press me towards Shifting. He tended to leave the mothering to Moth, and I appreciated that. I could tolerate his company for a while.

  ‘How much longer is the journey to Luthan?’ Lowell asked.

  ‘Once we’re out of the mountains, give it a good two weeks,’ Dodge said. ‘We’ll follow the river right through. If we need to stop, we’ll pass through Coserbest on the way south. We can get supplies and the like there.’

  ‘How much distance between Coserbest and Luthan?’

  ‘A week or so, on foot.’

  ‘Along the coast?’

  ‘No, lad. The river forks before Coserbest. One leg cuts through to Luthan. We’ll follow that leg. It’s a more direct route.’

  ‘Can we seek aid from Coserbest?’

  ‘It’s too small,’ I put in. ‘And all their force comes from ships, and most of those ships are whalers, fishers, or traders. Besides which, we have no sway over Coserbest. Our strength and hope lie in Luthan.’

  ‘Will Leldh and his people move on Luthan as well?’

  ‘Doubt it. He was planning to attack in the spring. The passes won’t let him bring an army through at this time of the season.’

  ‘Is there anyone in Coserbest who will help us?’

  ‘Are you done asking questions?’

  He frowned and said nothing. I regretted my words. Reminded myself he had lost his whole family. His home. He had stepped into a much larger world. My world.

  My fault.

  My earlier resentment towards Lowell Sencha faded. Perhaps what he showed was not so much control as resignation. I resolved to be more patient with him.

  I cleared my throat. ‘There are people in Luthan who will help us,’ I said. ‘Leldh is becoming too powerful. He’ll strike there, in the spring, when the mountain-passes are clear. Luthan has the biggest population of half-bloods in Oster.’

  ‘And Hemanlok is in Luthan,’ Moth added. ‘Leldh hates Hemanlok.’

  He hates you too, Moth, I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue. Moth Derry had her own secrets. It was not my place to expose them.

  We had to travel east around the Valley to reach the southern pass of the mountains. It took longer, but it was safer than crossing the Valley itself. It took four days to put the Valley out of our sights. I was grateful when we could no longer see it. I could not say for certain if Lowell Sencha felt the same way. When it was in sight he was pale and grave but when we left it he looked continuously over his shoulder. Searching for what he had left behind. I did not know what to say to help him. In the end, I held my tongue. If he wanted comfort, he could get it from Moth.

  We left the mountains that framed the Valley and the winter rains swept in. The wind made wolfish noises as it whipped past us. I worried we would not find caves to shelter in or animals to hunt. The way was slippery and difficult, and at the end of each day we were freezing, spent. I was coming to feel grateful for the deep sleep Moth could give us. Possibly exhaustion would have prevented ill dreams in any case, but I was glad not to chance it. We needed whatever rest we could claim. I worried we would grow weak and sicken with the cold and battering elements. Moth’s presence, alleviating the edge of our discomfort, reassured me.

  I had to remind myself how mercenary she could be. Moth, like Hemanlok, like their associate Melana, played a long game. The only difference was Moth had learned to hide it better. She and Dodge appeared for all the world like a wandering couple, devoted in their middle years. A little eccentric, but harmless. It was certainly how Lowell saw them. He helped Moth over crags and rocks, gathered herbs for her, and lent her his cloak when the cold grew sharp. I wondered what he would think
if he had any idea what Moth Derry was capable of.

  ‘Please don’t tell him.’

  Moth came to stand beside me. Her dress was plastered to her with the rain, and her spectacles were so spotted with water I doubted she could see anything. Moth Derry, the Healer of Oster, and she still had to squint to see without those glasses.

  ‘Get out of my head, Derry,’ I growled.

  ‘I’m not in your head, dear,’ she said. ‘I have no wish to know exactly what you think of me. But you are not difficult to read, Lycaea; you never have been. You look at me, scowl, look at Lowell, look at Dodge, look back at me, and then back to Lowell again. It hardly takes a scholar.’

  I had not realised I was so obvious.

  ‘Lowell Sencha has known us all his life, Lycaea,’ Moth said. ‘Much as you have. He does not know the things you do, though.’ She looked over her shoulder at Dodge and Lowell. The two were collecting firewood as they went, trying to find something dry enough to burn without smoking us out. ‘His world has expanded far enough over the last week. Perhaps you do not care to keep my secrets, but I hope you will show him compassion by holding your silence.’

  ‘Your secrets are your own,’ I said. ‘He’ll find out soon enough, though.’

  She pursed her lips. ‘Lycaea, there are other things we need to discuss.’

  ‘I suspect you’ll be discussing, and I’ll be resenting having to listen.’ I picked my way over a rotting log and found the path again. It was narrow and winding, but there was a good rocky ledge on the other side that protected us from the worst of the wind and made it safer to walk.

  ‘How long has it been since you Shifted?’

  Again, my body coiled and readied itself. Panic made my blood hot. I walked faster. Moth struggled to keep up with me.

  ‘Almost ten months,’ I said, because I knew she would not let me be if I refused to answer. She hissed in a breath.

  ‘Ten months of torturing yourself,’ she said. ‘Why?’

  ‘That’s a stupid damn thing to say, Derry, and if you were a waer you’d know it.’

  ‘I have spent a lot of time with waer.’

  ‘And you’ve spent a lot of time watching women give birth, haven’t you, but you still don’t know how it feels.’ Harsh words, regretted as soon as I saw Moth’s expression. She and Dodge had wanted children desperately. It was one of the cruel ironies of her life that she, bound for so many years to deliver and care for children, could never have one of her own. My mother, on the other hand, hated children and had brought me into the world unwelcomed. And there I stood, throwing it in Moth’s face. Guilt made a nest in my stomach.

  ‘You have always been blunt, Lycaea,’ Moth said. ‘You were never cruel.’

  ‘People change, Derry. Perhaps it’s the wolf in me.’

  In the silence following my words, I could feel her question gathering. I had known it would come.

  ‘Lycaea. Who is Kaebha?’

  Kaebha was never far from my mind. After all she had done, it made sense Moth would ask about her.

  ‘Leldh’s torturer.’ I kept the words steady. Hold her still. The metal warms. Look at me, dog. ‘She and I came to know one another well, over three years.’ The mountain air was bitter, but I sweated and suffered in the heat of fear and shame. ‘Why? What have you heard?’

  ‘Whispers.’ The word sounded old. She had that look in her eyes. Other-worldly. Distant. I turned my gaze away.

  ‘Storm’s coming in.’ Dodge’s voice was loud, warning us they were almost close enough to hear our conversation. ‘We’d best see if we can find shelter before it breaks.’

  ‘Do you get weather like this further south?’ Lowell asked. His arms were full of kindling. ‘In the mountains around Tadhg?’

  ‘No, lad. It doesna get so cold in Tadhg. The further south, the warmer it gets. Even Luthan will be different to what you’re used to.’ The two of them passed us. I was glad of Dodge’s presence. He took Lowell’s mind off the tragedy in the Gwydhan Valley in a way I would never have been able to. A good man, Dodge Derry. He had to be.

  We found no caves that night, but a copse of stocky trees and a rocky outcrop gave us shelter from the storm. A fire was impossible, but we managed to keep our kindling dry. We slept on the ground, huddling together for warmth as the weather battled the air about us. I tried not to think about the crowded space too much. It seemed Lowell shared my discomfort. He slept facing away from the rest of us, in his wolf shape. When I woke the next morning, sodden with rain and numb with cold, he was padding about the area, stretching his legs. I stood and clapped my hands against my arms, trying to get the blood flowing. The Derrys were still asleep, hands clasped.

  ‘Bad night,’ I remarked to Lowell. He nodded and shook himself, sending water flying. I refrained from making a comment about wet dogs.

  The sky was clear, and though the day was cold, the sun would soon dry us. The wind had settled enough for a fire, so I gathered the kindling and used the tinder and flint to bring us some comfort. While my back was to him, Lowell Shifted and pulled his clothes on.

  ‘How did you sleep?’ he asked.

  ‘Long enough and deep enough.’

  ‘So did I.’ Something in his tone made me turn. His brown eyes were level on me. ‘And have done, every night since the Valley was attacked.’

  He was starting to emerge from his grief and put things together. Good for him. Not so good for Moth Derry.

  ‘This sort of travel does that to you,’ I said.

  I wondered if he could smell the falseness on my breath. Why was I bothering to lie for Moth Derry?

  He gave me one of his slow, quizzical smiles. It made me uneasy. The man didn’t have a single damn thing to be smiling about. The fire leapt high, and I busied myself tending to it.

  ‘You must be glad to be going home,’ he said at length.

  ‘Home?’

  ‘Luthan.’

  ‘Oh.’ I shrugged, tried to mask the surge of emotion I felt at the thought of Luthan. Hemanlok’s city. My city. Warm and vibrant, life in every corner. I had not let myself think about it until now, not properly. I suppressed my tone. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Such enthusiasm.’

  ‘We have a long way to walk until we reach Luthan, Sencha. I won’t be glad until I walk through the gates.’ The thought of being apprehended before we reached Luthan was unbearable. I wanted cobbles beneath my feet again. I wanted the warmth of the sun on my face. I wanted the intoxicating scents of the market.

  ‘And then we come back to Caerwyn.’

  I started. ‘We?’

  ‘Yes.’ Something hardened in his face.

  ‘You are not coming back to Caerwyn.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘You’re a farmer.’

  ‘I was a farmer.’ There was a growl in his voice. It was the most wolf-like tone I had heard him take.

  ‘Has anyone ever taught you how to fight? How to stab a man?’

  ‘I killed a man back in the Valley.’

  ‘And you bawled about it afterwards!’ Moth and Dodge were stirring now, roused by our conversation, but I did not lower my voice. ‘It’s a noble sentiment, Wolf, but we don’t have time for noble sentiments. We don’t have time for sentiment at all. When we get to Caerwyn, there will be more than five damn soldiers there. They’ll tear you apart.’

  ‘Then teach me to fight.’

  ‘It would be a waste of time.’

  ‘I learn swiftly.’

  ‘You can learn as quick as you want, Sencha, but it won’t give you a heart hard enough for warfare.’

  ‘They burned my brother alive.’

  There it was. The creature in his eyes. I saw it, and he recognised that I saw it. His chest rose and fell, struggling under the weight of his anger. His pale cheeks were flushed. His hands were clenched, but he eased the fingers out. He tried to calm himself.

  ‘My little brother,’ he said, voice quiet. ‘He was just a child. My parents. All sent to Hollow too soon.’
/>   ‘Daeman Leldh and his people kill many children.’ I knew I fell short of gentle, but he needed to understand. ‘Leldh, and his captain, Cooper. And his torturer Kaebha. They are merciless, Sencha. All Leldh’s soldiers are. I will not be responsible for your death.’

  ‘Then teach me how to fight, and give me a chance. Because I will follow to Caerwyn, Lycaea. There is nowhere else for me to go. I need to see this through. If you teach me, I will at least be able to defend myself.’

  It was difficult to argue with his logic.

  ‘Dodge could do with some instruction as well,’ Moth said.

  I rounded on her, blood shooting to my face. Would she never let me be? She went on, unyielding. ‘We won’t be fighting in Caerwyn, but if they find us before we reach Luthan, he needs a chance.’

  ‘I can use a sword,’ Dodge said, indignant.

  ‘Holding one isn’t the same as using one, dear.’

  ‘Hemanlok taught me.’

  ‘Hemanlok was being unkind. He was making fun of you.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘Learn, love.’

  ‘The things I do for you,’ he yawned. He stood, rumpled with sleep, and joined Lowell and me. ‘Teach us,’ he said.

  ‘Not now.’ Moth and Dodge would never let it rest. I could not refuse them; I could only stall. ‘I don’t want either of you doing something ridiculous like falling off the side of the mountain. When we get to the plains country.’

  Stalling. As best I could. I did not know if I could teach them. I did not know if it was safe.

  Lowell

  I had always been fond of the Derrys, but during those days in the mountains they were the hounds that guarded the flock, kept me safe from the terrors of the darkness. It helped they had known my family so well. Sometimes, when I was overwhelmed and wept, Moth sat with me, crying her own tears. Dodge would leave us, then, letting us rest in the gentler melancholy that comes with shared grief. When we had dwelt on our pain too long, he would come back and comfort us with riddles and stories.