The Starthorn Tree

by Kate Forsyth

  ‘I mean, how does it work? What makes the diamond shine with light?’

  ‘I do not know,’ she answered irritably. ‘It just works.’

  ‘Is it some sort of magic then?’

  ‘There is no such thing as magic,’ she said indulgently. ‘Believing in magic is just a symptom of a primitive philosophy, one that is based in superstition and fear.’

  The other three exchanged quick glances and Pedrin rolled his eyes.

  ‘Can I hold it?’ Durrik asked.

  Lisandre frowned. ‘Absolutely not. Only one of the Ziv may touch it. Did I not say it was a gift from the king himself?’

  ‘Yeah, you did,’ Pedrin said. She scowled at him.

  ‘Isn’t it pretty?’ Briony said with a little sigh.

  ‘How do you make it open?’ Pedrin asked. She showed them how to twist the knob at the bottom and once again the egg split open, revealing the singing bird on its branch of opals and sapphires. When the song was finished, the petals closed shut once more, hiding the bird within.

  Pedrin would have liked to examine the jewelled egg more closely and see if he could make the light shine himself, but Lisandre tucked it out of sight, saying, ‘Do you think it is safe to go back to sleep? For indeed I am weary still.’

  ‘I’ll keep watch,’ Pedrin offered.

  ‘Only try not to fall asleep this time,’ Durrik said.

  Pedrin coloured hotly. ‘I was tired too,’ he said defensively. ‘We walked a mighty long way today.’

  ‘Yesterday,’ Lisandre said. ‘It must be tomorrow by now.’

  ‘Well, it must be my turn to keep watch now anyways,’ Durrik said. ‘You sleep and I’ll wake you later.’

  Pedrin shook his head. ‘I’m fine,’ he said crossly. He stared out into the fire-lit darkness, sure he felt eyes watching them. Snowflake gave a little reassuring bleat and snuggled down next to him, and he stroked her head with his fingers. ‘Butt me if I fall asleep again,’ he whispered and she nodded her horned head and laid it against his knee.

  ‘So what’s the plan now?’ Durrik asked the next morning, his mouth full of toast and honey. ‘How are we meant to find the place where the count and all his men died? This forest is mighty big!’

  Lisandre frowned and tried to follow what he said, but he had slipped back into Adalheid, the complex phrasing of the starkin language just too difficult to keep up in everyday conversation. Seeing her puzzled frown, he obligingly translated for her.

  ‘The sisika lords who led the search party said they found the bodies by the river, a few days’ walk into the forest,’ Lisandre said, dabbing delicately at her mouth with her handkerchief while Briony tended her blistered feet. ‘That was why Lord Zavion said they must’ve been killed by the lake-lorelei, but Briony tells me the lake-lorelei always lure their prey into the water and then drown them, they do not kill on dry land.’

  ‘So I thought if we just a-followed the river we’d soon come to the right place,’ Briony said. ‘Me only worry is that Lord Zavion will surely reason the same way—the river is the only true constant in the forest. Surely he will get his sisika riders to fly up and down the river, a-looking for any trace of us? Then all they have to do is find a clearing big enough for the sisikas to be a-landing in, and they’ll be hot on our trail again.’

  ‘We must just keep a close watch above and behind us as well as before us,’ Pedrin said, hoping no-one remembered how he had failed to notice the soldiers behind them last time. No-one said anything, though, and so he said, ‘I’ll lead the way, shall I?’ He bent and seized one of the saddlebags, saying, ‘Durrik, I think we should carry our own bags, in case we get separated again. At least that way we’ll have some food and our blankets and stuff.’

  Durrik nodded, and picked up the other saddlebag, strapping it over his shoulder so it rested comfortably on his back. Pedrin took a deep breath then said, frowning, ‘All right then, let’s get a-moving. Try not to leave a trail. Durrik, how about you bring up the rear?’

  ‘Yessir!’ Durrik said with a mocking salute. ‘Your wish is my command!’

  Colour scorched up Pedrin’s face, all the way to his ears.

  THIRTEEN

  A week later the path began to climb steeply, through rocks all emerald-green with moss. The two goats bounded on ahead, leaping from one boulder to the next with amazing agility. The children did not have so much ease, panting along behind, using their hands to haul themselves higher. Once Durrik’s makeshift crutch slid in the mud and he fell heavily, grazing his knees and palms. He did not complain, just hoisted himself up again and kept on going, blood discolouring the torn fabric of his trousers. Snowflake came leaping back, bleating softly, and ran by his side so Durrik was able to steady himself with a hand on her back.

  They came to a dark, gloomy copse of trees, where the Evenlode slid down black and silent between the close-gathered branches. They made their way forward cautiously, finding it hard to see in the sudden dusk but unwilling to draw attention to themselves by illuminating Lisandre’s night-light. Twice in the past few days they had seen or heard soldiers in the woods behind them and, although they had managed to hurry on ahead without being seen themselves, they were all too well aware that Lord Zavion had not given up his pursuit.

  Pedrin felt something sticky across his face. He recoiled, putting up his hand to brush it away. ‘Spiderwebs,’ he said in disgust. He took another step forward and felt himself entangled in stickiness again. As he brushed the cobwebs away, he heard Lisandre shriek. Then the white radiance of her night-light shone out. They all screamed then.

  All about them, as far as the eye could see, the intricate fretwork of spiderwebs stretched, the delicate lines gleaming in the light. Huge black spiders crouched in the webs, each as big as Pedrin’s face and covered in bristling hair. There were hundreds of them, hanging motionless all about them.

  ‘Jumping Jimjinny!’ Pedrin seized a stick from the ground. To his surprise, Briony grasped the other end in both her small hands, preventing him from swinging it.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she cried. ‘There’s no need to be a-killing them! They’re not doing no harm. We’re the ones doing the harm, stomping through here and destroying all their webs. Do you need to be a-murdering them as well?’

  Pedrin could only gape at her.

  ‘Whatever do you mean, Briony?’ Lisandre cried, shrinking away. ‘Ooooh, look! It’s coming!’

  One of the spiders was rapidly descending towards them, swinging from a long shining filament. Lisandre screamed and cringed back against Durrik, who lashed out at it with his crutch. He broke the filament. The spider dropped upon his arm. He screamed and flung it away from him. Lisandre screamed too and scrambled away, her hands over her face.

  Briony fell to her knees, picking the spider up and cradling it in her hands. It was so large it filled both her palms, the hairy legs hanging over. She stroked its sides gently with her thumbs.

  ‘She warn’t a-coming for you, milady,’ Briony said. ‘She’s a-coming to fix her web. See how you’ve torn it. Come, let us away from here before we do even more harm.’ She examined the spider anxiously, saying with a relieved sigh, ‘She’s not hurt, only all shaken up, thank Imala.’

  Lisandre was staring at her with horrified eyes. ‘How can you stroke it like that? Urrghh!’

  ‘She’s soft, like velvet,’ Briony answered, lifting the spider towards the others. ‘Touch her, she’ll not mind.’

  ‘Nah, thank you!’ Pedrin said. Durrik shuddered and backed away, with Lisandre behind him, clinging to his arm, her face as white as whey.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ she whispered. ‘Look, another’s coming!’ She gave another high-pitched shriek and stumbled back.

  ‘They’ll not hurt you,’ Briony protested. ‘They’re not poisonous.’ She lifted the spider up to her neck, brushing her chin across its back. ‘Really, spiders are sweet creatures, very gentle and loving. You shouldn’t be a-feared of them.’ She followed them towards the e
dge of the copse of trees.

  ‘Get it away from me,’ Lisandre screamed. ‘Urrggghh, how can you bear it on your neck like that?’

  She scrambled further away from the little seamstress, her mouth all contorted with revulsion. Suddenly she came to a halt, one hand flung out, the other raised to her lips in an urgent shushing motion.

  ‘What?’ Pedrin stopped beside her.

  Lisandre pointed with a shaking hand. ‘Soldiers!’

  He looked quickly. Climbing up the bank of the river was a band of soldiers, their white uniforms glimmering in the dusk. In their midst was a canopied litter, carried on the shoulders of four burly men. Reclining upon white satin cushions was a tall man in a sweeping white robe. The last of the sunshine seemed to linger in his long, smooth curls. He carried a sphere of white light which cast a bright ray before him, illuminating every nook and cranny.

  ‘Lord Zavion,’ Lisandre whispered. ‘There’s no-one else with a night-light of his own. Only the Ziv may carry them. Oh, comets and stars, I cannot believe he has joined the soldiers himself! I have never seen Lord Zavion leave the court before, he has a great dislike of any exertion. He must be serious indeed about recapturing me . . .’

  Pedrin’s ribcage had tightened so abruptly he felt all the breath squeezed out of his lungs. He could not take another. He had begun to believe the starkin soldiers had given up and gone home, yet here was Lord Zavion himself less than a hundred feet away.

  ‘Come,’ Briony whispered, drawing Lisandre back into the dark wood. ‘They mustn’t see us. We have to be a-finding somewhere to hide.’

  ‘I cannot! The spiders . . .’

  ‘They’ll not hurt you,’ Briony repeated. ‘Come, get down low and crawl, so we pass right under their webs. The spiders don’t seek to trap us, ’tis moths and flies they want. Don’t be a-feared.’

  ‘I cannot!’ Lisandre shuddered.

  ‘Then Lord Zavion will have you. Look, they’re almost upon us. He’ll be a-seeing us any moment. Get down and crawl.’

  Lisandre shook her head mutely, though the bright ray of light was sweeping through the trees only a few scant paces from where they stood.

  Briony dropped down to her hands and knees, and dragged at Lisandre’s skirt. ‘Shut your eyes. Hold on to me ankles and crawl behind me. Pretend there’s no spiders. Come on!’

  After a moment, Lisandre obeyed. She fell to her knees and gripped Briony’s ankles, crawling along behind her on her elbows and knees. The boys followed behind, though they were unable to help straining their necks to look up at the spiders, hanging black and motionless in the midst of their webs. The searchlight illuminated them starkly, so that the boys’ flesh crept with revulsion.

  ‘Whatever you do, don’t scream!’ Briony hissed. ‘They’re close behind us now.’

  Thorns tore at their faces and hands, and stones and roots bruised their flesh. Every brush of leaf and twig felt like spiders’ claws. Lisandre moaned every now and again, and once uttered an involuntary shriek that she muffled by burying her face in the thick litter of decaying leaves. They could hear shouting behind them and the white ray of light glanced through the filigree of branch and twig and web, making the spiders’ eyes glitter. They ducked their heads down low and crawled forward blindly.

  ‘There’s a little cave in the rock ahead,’ Briony whispered. ‘Come on, it may be big enough for us to hide in.’

  She wriggled out from under a bush and led them in a low staggering run to a narrow crack in the cliff-face. The light swept over the rock and back into the trees. In the darkness it left behind, they scrabbled inside the crack, one by one. Briony crept in last, barely able to fit her skinny little body inside.

  ‘Durrik, get your elbow out of me face!’ Pedrin panted.

  ‘Ow! You’re standing on my foot!’

  ‘Can’t you squeeze in a bit, Lisandre, that stupid skirt of yours is taking up a mighty lot of room.’

  ‘I cannot, this cave is far too small,’ Lisandre whispered in despair, trying in vain to press herself closer to the rock. The searchlight swept back, seeming to linger on the crack in the rock. They could see each other’s faces clearly, all looking strained and frightened.

  ‘They’ll find us for sure,’ Durrik moaned. ‘This’ll be the first place they look.’

  Briony lifted the spider from her shoulder. The others all muffled involuntary shrieks and scrabbled further back into the crack, not realising until then that she still carried the great arachnid, nestled into the dark riot of her hair. She lifted it level with her eyes, stared into its impassive face, and then gently deposited it on the rock.

  The spider crouched for a moment and then swung nimbly across to the other face, causing all the children except Briony to once again shudder away, Lisandre uttering a little squeak of protest. It took them a few moments to realise the spider was spinning a web across the narrow cave mouth. Even then their reaction was one of horror and dismay. Lisandre was sure the huge black spider had trapped them in the cave so she could cocoon them in cobwebs and suck dry their life juices. Even Pedrin thought only of having to struggle out through the incredibly strong, sticky strands with the risk of brushing up against that repulsive hairy creature. Only Briony showed no perturbation, crouching within the shadow of the wall as the searchlight came closer and closer and closer.

  The children were too afraid even to breathe. They could hear the crack of branches being broken, the crunch of leaves underfoot.

  ‘Filthy spiders,’ a man said. ‘They’re everywhere!’

  ‘I do not think the young lady could have come this way, my lord,’ another man said. ‘Surely she would’ve been terrified of these spiders?’

  ‘We heard a girl scream.’ Lord Zavion’s voice was very, very cold. ‘And did we not find a scrap of red silk caught on a thorn? Lady Lisandre was here, and not so very long ago. We must find her and return her to her mother’s loving embrace. My cousin the king has already expressed his astonishment at the count’s death and this peculiar sleep of his son. I do not wish to arouse any stronger expression of displeasure so soon after I have been granted the Regency. Lady Lisandre’s disappearance could not have come at a worse time. We must find her before the king hears of it!’

  ‘She is only a child,’ the other man said. ‘We should have no trouble finding her, my lord.’

  ‘I certainly hope not!’ Lord Zavion said. ‘I have never had to endure so much discomfort in my life. My only consolation is that the little brat must’ve been at least as uncomfortable!’

  The cold, haughty voice was very close now, the probing searchlight very bright. Pedrin could feel Lisandre trembling against his back, though with fear or anger he could not tell. ‘There is the crack in the rock we saw, my lord,’ said the soldier. ‘It is very small. Do you think my lady could have squeezed in there?’

  ‘She is only a child,’ Lord Zavion said contemptuously. ‘It is my experience that children can wriggle in just about anywhere.’

  The light shone full upon the cave mouth. The spider scuttled out of sight. All the children could see were the complicated strands of her web, shining a little in the light. They shrank back, expecting to be dragged out at any moment.

  ‘Look, my lord, the crack is thick with cobwebs,’ the soldier said. ‘Nobody has passed through there, no matter how small. Lady Lisandre is hiding elsewhere, my lord.’

  There was a long pause, and then the light slid away. ‘She must be here somewhere,’ Lord Zavion said, in a high, fretful voice. ‘Find her! I cannot risk attracting the king’s displeasure anymore than I already have. I do not care if you must search all night—she cannot be far away!’

  For a long time the children crouched, motionless, all their muscles screaming from standing so still for so long. All was dark. All was quiet. At last Durrik said, rather tremulously, ‘I think they’ve gone.’

  ‘Can we get out of here?’ Lisandre asked, a thin thread of hysteria in her voice. ‘Is that horrible spider gone?’

&n
bsp; ‘That horrible spider just saved our lives,’ Briony said. ‘Or at least our liberty.’

  ‘Come, let’s find a place to camp the night,’ Durrik said, anxious to keep the peace. ‘Lord Zavion’s gone now. We should be safe for a while, at least. In the morning we can be a-thinking about what to do. Let’s just find somewhere to rest now.’

  ‘Not near these spiders,’ Lisandre said, her voice shrill. ‘How can you think of sleeping with all these spiders around?’

  They all found it hard to look at Briony. Although the curly-haired girl had hidden them and kept them all safe, unconsciously the other three drew together, keeping their distance from her. Briony looked unhappy but she said nothing, leading them swiftly away from the spider wood. All was dark now, but Briony seemed to see as clearly at night as she did during the day. She led them without hesitation to a big willow tree, whose green hanging branches concealed a warm hollow where all four children could stretch out to sleep, hidden from prying eyes.

  There was no joking tonight, no flute playing or silly stories. They ate the last of their bread, softened in milk, Briony putting a small share out for the wildkin as usual. Then all four lay quietly, listening to the night murmurs of the forest and thinking their own troubled thoughts. After a long silence Pedrin said, very gruffly, ‘Briony, how did you know about that little cave?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she answered hesitantly.

  ‘What do you mean, you don’t know?’

  ‘I mean I don’t know,’ she answered miserably. ‘I know things sometimes. I don’t know how.’

  After a long moment, Pedrin asked, ‘Like what sort of things? What do you know?’

  ‘Not much,’ she answered, very quiet and low. ‘How people think, what they feel, what lies ahead. Not much.’

  This time the silence stretched on until it slid into sleep, a sleep haunted by spider claws and shadows.

  FOURTEEN

  ‘Why did the fly fly?’ Durrik asked.

  ‘Here we go,’ Pedrin said wearily. ‘I don’t know, why?’