Rise of the Sparrows

by Sarina Langer

  “So you kept your promise! I'm impressed!” He sounded stronger than he had the night before, but a hint of anxiety remained. His well-trained muscles couldn't hide his fear of Aeron. Rachael knew a thing or two about reading people's behaviours. It was a necessary skill to her survival, to know when someone was genuinely afraid of her and when they were only bluffing to get close to her. This man was not bluffing. His posture betrayed him, even if his voice was steady.

  Hopefully Aeron couldn't see the same fear.

  “I always keep my promises, Sparrow. Treat them well, they are very dear to me.”

  A dangerous flicker sparked in Sparrow's eyes. “Cut the lies, witch, you're not fooling anyone. You care as much about these girls as you care for the ground under your feet.”

  “If the ground under my feet was not there, Sparrow, I would fall into the abyss. I care greatly.” Her voice was as soft as silk, yet dripped enough venom to kill the entire White Guard. Even Cephy caught on, and held on to Rachael's hand more tightly. Her hands were still raw from practising her spells all day yesterday and the day before, and the wounds had not yet scabbed over. Rachael could feel the blistered sores against her own rough hands.

  If Sparrow was insulted by her words, he didn't show it. “We need to be leaving. There's a long road between where we are now and where we need to go.”

  “Of course. Treat them well, Sparrow, or I will be back before it's time.” Her threat was enough to make even the frozen snow under their feet shiver with cold.

  Just like that, Aeron was gone. Cephy gasped. The spot where Aeron had been standing mere moments ago was empty. The man frowned.

  Having heard the hatred in Aeron's voice Rachael wouldn't have been surprised if the woman had turned into a hundred snakes and vanished into the ground.

  Just as suddenly as Aeron had vanished, the frown on the man's face dissipated and was replaced by a warm smile. “I'm glad you're all right! Has she hurt you? Rachael?” He sounded honest, but it was not so long ago that she'd believed Aeron was honest, too. If he wanted her trust he had a lot of work ahead of him.

  “I'm okay.” She said, not taking her eyes off the stranger once. “Cephy, show him your hands.” Her eyes briefly flicked to the horses. “She won't be able to ride.”

  Shaking, the girl held up her bruised and burnt hands, making Sparrow's eyes go wide. “What did she do?”

  “She taught me magic. I burn things and she was teaching me how to-” Rachael didn't react quickly enough. By the time her hand had covered Cephy's mouth the words were already out. Scared that they had ruined their chances with this new man already, her eyes flashed to him. Only moments ago he had called Aeron Mist Woman with enough spite to make a lesser woman die of shame. She was surprised to see that his smile was still there, as warm as before.

  “It's all right. Magic is nothing to be ashamed of where we are going. My sister will stay with us, she can heal with magic and can hopefully teach you better than Aeron did.”

  “Do you...?” Unsure of whether she could trust her voice to finish the sentence, she stopped. All her life her curse had been just that—a curse. Now, in the span of two weeks, she had met two people who weren't afraid of it and even used it themselves.

  “Do I have magic?” Both girls nodded. “No, the gene seems to have jumped over me. Our parents were talented, and Ailis is a healer but all I'm good at is swinging a sword and rescuing people like you.”

  “Like us?” Cephy was still hiding by Rachael's side, but her hands had loosened.

  Rachael finished the question. “Are there many?” She had never really thought about it. In Blackrock, she had believed herself to be the only one until she had met Cephy. Then they had met Aeron, and now Sparrow was telling them that his family was just like them. Was it possible that there were many more, too afraid to say anything? For many years Cephy had kept her magic hidden, and Rachael could have hidden hers easily, too, had she realised sooner what telling others would do.

  Sparrow's smile widened. Maybe there were no limits to how friendly he could make himself look.

  “There are. You're not the first ones we've saved, but you are the most important ones.” Rachael didn't miss his eyes examining her briefly, like she was some valuable cargo finally delivered.

  “Why?”

  “I will explain later. For now we should bandage your hands, Cephy. A friend of mine lives nearby, we can stop off there for the day and then get an early start tomorrow. He will want to know that you're unharmed, too.” Cephy was anything but unharmed with her fingers charred like this.

  Rachael nodded, glad to have Cephy's hands treated but not letting her guard down. Cephy had relaxed, so Rachael would need to be cautious for both of them. Once Cephy's hands were healed and she was fit to hold on to the reins, they could make their escape.

  Why would he go to all this trouble? He didn't even know them. What made them so special, that he would face Aeron just to see them safe? How did his friend know them? How did Sparrow know them? She was positive that she'd never met the man before.

  “Follow me, I've got three horses tied up over there. Rachael is right, Cephy, you won't be able to ride so well with those hands. Could you share a horse with Rachael?” Cephy nodded, stepping closer to Rachael.

  They were half way to his small camp fire when he turned around with the most serious smile Rachael had seen or known to exist on his lips. “Oh, before I forget- it's nice to meet you, Rachael. Cephy. My name is Cale, and I swear to the Maker, I will not let any more harm come to you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cale was a strange man unlike anyone that Rachael had ever met. They had left his camp fire over an hour ago, and he had asked them if they needed a break several times. Their horses had fallen into a gentle walk, which she doubted was for his benefit. He had even bandaged Cephy's hands and had given her some lady fern – rubbed into a paste—to ease the pain. He always wore that smile she had seen right before they had left, and he always seemed to be both serious and friendly at the same time. Committed and determined, but also cautious and caring.

  The people of Blackrock had always made their dislike for her known, whether it hurt her feelings or not. Aeron had seemed sweet but had turned out to be the opposite. Cale was something else entirely. Her gut told her she could trust him but she was not about to make the same mistake again. People could not be trusted, no matter how much they smiled or how sincere they seemed. Aeron had smiled, but it had been an act. For all she knew Cale was just like her, or worse.

  Behind her, Cephy was clinging on to her waist. Rachael couldn't see her but had a feeling Cephy's eyes were shut tight. Aeron's betrayal must have come as a shock to her and Rachael scolded herself for not waking Cephy up the night before. Hearing what Rachael had heard might have made it easier for her to accept the truth.

  Now they were being sent into the unknown again, and neither of them was ready to trust another stranger.

  “How much longer?” Rachael asked, earning her another one of Cale's smiles. It seemed there was no end to his friendliness, and it had her stomach in twists.

  “We can get there by nightfall if we keep up this pace. Do you need a break?”

  She shook her head, hoping that Cephy was fine, too. It was freezing outside, but she was used to that. The open forest would give her more options should she need to take Cephy and run.

  They arrived at the house just before nightfall. The comforting smell of a freshly cooked stew filled the chilled air around them. Birds sang in the fading glow of the evening sun. It reminded Rachael of when they had first arrived at Aeron's hut. The delicious smell of her tea had drawn them in then, too. But this was different. Only the sinister cooing of owls hidden in the shadows had filled the woods that night. Aeron's tea had smelled too sweet like her words had turned out to be, whereas this stew smelled soothing.

  A mellow shine warmed the immediate area around the house, illuminating nearby trees with a
soft light. Rachael's eyes fell on strange bags full of seeds hanging from most of the trees around them.

  “What are these?” She pointed to the one nearest to them.

  “They are feed for birds. Arlo stuffs little nets with seeds and the birds feed from them over the winter.” Rachael had never seen anything so thoughtful, neither had she ever been in a place where even the birds were treated so much better than she had been. This was a strange little place full of wonderful smells and sights, and she found herself feeling safe and protected despite the promises she had made to herself. “We can leave the horses here. Arlo will bring them some hay in a minute, as soon as he knows you're all right.”

  Rachael nodded, motioning for Cephy to climb off the horse. The girl's hands around her waist were freezing cold. The wounds on her hands had started leaking pus and needed to be treated urgently.

  “Cephy. It's okay, you can get off the horse now.” Rachael felt the girl shaking against her, unwilling to let go.

  “Hang on,” Cale said, skilfully jumping off his horse like he had done nothing else his entire life. Rachael suspected she wasn't far from the truth. He gave his horse some reassuring pets and scratches behind its ears, and walked up to them stretching out his arms to Cephy. “It's a long way down! Come here, I've got you.”

  Still reluctant, Cephy was as solid as the ground beneath them, but Cale got her down effortlessly regardless.

  He extended his hand to Rachael.

  “I'm fine.” She was afraid that they were getting too comfortable around Cale. People as nice as him and this Arlo didn't exist. People who reached out to strangers, and went to great effort to feed birds when they couldn't feed themselves. People who looked after their horses like they were friends, and who looked after strangers in the same caring way.

  Cale only smiled and nodded his understanding, picking up Cephy and closing his arms around her.

  “You must be tired. Both of you. How are your hands?”

  Cephy's eyes flashed to Rachael, who was every bit as unsure of their situation as Cephy. Finally, she nodded.

  “They hurt.”

  “We'll get them looked at in a minute, I promise. Arlo has lived out here on his own for a very long time, he's got good at dressing wounds and healing minor injuries.”

  “Minor?” The word was out before Rachael could think better of it, but she refused to take it back, too. How could he call Cephy's wounds minor? They were the most painful thing Rachael had ever seen, and she had suffered through ice burns on her feet during particularly cold winters when the thin straps which had been cheap shoes long ago hadn't been protection enough. The paste he had made out of lady fern had helped the pain, but the burns had still blistered badly. It wasn't by any means what she would call a minor injury.

  Again, Cale only smiled. “Minor. Arlo is a hunter, and a veteran. I have seen him pull through wounds far worse than this. He nearly died three times, too! He knows what he's doing.” Shifting his eyes back from Rachael on to Cephy, he added: “Your hands will stop hurting soon, I promise. You'll see, two days from now and they'll be good as new!”

  Cephy offered him a shy smile, and Cale's face relaxed. It was a mystery to Rachael how the man could look any more at home than he had done already.

  Their moment was interrupted when the front door of the small house flew open and a man as big and as wild-looking as a bear entered the snowy forest.

  “By the Maker, lad, I thought I heard your voice!” His own voice matched his appearance, and Rachael wondered if he had hunted animals not by usual means, but simply by shouting them into submission.

  “I would have sent a message, but getting here was my priority.”

  With only a few quick steps, the bear-man had reached them and stopped breaths short of colliding with them. “Don't be rude, my boy. Introduce me.” There was a spark in his eyes which spoke volumes of his kindness. He may have looked like a bear and Rachael guessed he was just as dangerous, but he was also the reason birds had food during the winter. He was another mystery, just like Cale. It also told her that no introductions were necessary; he knew very well who they were.

  Cale nodded, grinning widely. “Rachael, Cephy, this is my friend I have told you about, Arlo Braddock. Arlo, meet Rachael and Cephy.”

  A dark shadow crossed Arlo's cheerful smile. “So your plan worked, then. You were able to sneak them out.”

  Cale shook his head. “No. She was waiting for me. She knew I was coming, and she waited sitting at her table, sipping some tea. She had no reason to be afraid of me, Arlo. This is a game to her.”

  “So how did you do it?”

  “I'll tell you about it later. For now, these two need warm blankets, some hot food to warm them up and Cephy here needs her hands treated.”

  Arlo's eyes found Cephy's hands immediately. “Show me, girl.”

  Hiding her face in Cale's neck, Cephy stretched out one arm.

  “Maker's Breeches, girl, where did you get this?”

  Despite herself, Cephy giggled while hiding herself in Cale's embrace. It was worrying that she trusted him so much already, or maybe she simply trusted him more than Arlo, who looked like he could wrestle three grown bears to the ground and win every time.

  When Cephy didn't answer, Rachael did. “Aeron did this. She taught her how to-” She caught herself in the last second. Hadn't Cale mentioned that magic wasn't something they hated? Was it safe to talk about it openly?

  How would she know whom she could talk to, and whom she could not? It had been so much easier before, when the whole world was her sworn enemy.

  Cale saw her hesitate, and he finished her sentence. “Cephy is very skilled with her gift already. Aeron taught her how to use it better, in her own way.”

  Arlo nodded in grim understanding. “Say no more, lass. Come on inside. There is enough stew for all of us, and I've got just the thing for your hands.”

  “Did you know we were coming?” Again, Rachael spoke before she was able to stop herself, but had Cale not said that he had been too rushed to let Arlo know they were coming? Why was he prepared when he hadn't known?

  “No, lass, but me Ma always said to cook enough to end world hunger, in case you have unexpected visitors. Or in case you need to end world hunger.” If she had thought that Cale was a strange man, then she did not know what to make of Arlo.

  “I'll be right in” Cale said. “I'll just tie up Barnaby and get her some hay.” Seeing Rachael's questioning look, he added: “Barnaby is my horse. The two ladies I had brought for you are Kaori and Shelbie. The one you were riding all day is Kaori.”

  Rachael smiled, ignoring the promise she had made herself and listening to her gut instead.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The inside of Arlo's little hut was the coziest space Rachael had ever seen. A warming fire crackled in a large hearth, a meat Rachael didn't recognise cooked on a stick over the open flames, and in the corner adjacent to the lovely fire place, the stew Arlo had mentioned bubbled away. The smells when they entered the place were near to overwhelming. A meaty scent filled the whole room, carrying the slight hint of potatoes and some vegetables.

  The house smelled of home, and Rachael realised she was too close to allowing herself some comfort while she was here. She would never let her guard down again. Not ever.

  “Come on over here, lass.”

  Rachael turned around to see Arlo rummaging through a rather large cupboard with many drawers and small doors. It looked as though he had crafted it by hand—not the most skilfully made piece of furniture but it had a certain charm to it. It also looked big enough to store every trinket in his house, and more.

  Arlo motioned for Cephy to come over, taking out some bandages and a few small bottles before sitting down at the large oak table, where Cale had already made himself at home.

  “I'll clean the wound first, but it will sting a little. Once it's clean I'll treat it with this tincture here, and then I'll b
andage it up nice and tight. You're okay with that, lass?” Without looking to Rachael for reassurance this time Cephy nodded, taking a few hesitant steps towards Arlo. “Good. Now be a good lass and take a seat so I can get started!”

  She did as Arlo had asked, and the old man began his work immediately. Rachael could tell by the twists Cephy's face distorted into that cleaning the wound was as painful as he had promised.

  “Here.” Cale pulled out the chair closest to Cephy for Rachael to sit on. Happy to be nearer to Cephy, she sat down at the table. At a loss for things to say she ran her hand over the rough surface. It was another oversized piece of furniture, and the chairs matched. In Aeron's home everything had looked polished, and expensive, but here everything looked handmade and too large for the room. It felt like home should feel, even though Rachael expected splinters to pierce her fingertips at any moment.

  Rachael watched Cephy, uncomfortably aware that Cale was watching her even more intently.

  When she couldn't take his stare any more she turned in her chair, facing him. “Why are you staring at me?”

  If she hadn't known any better she would have thought that the young man blushed. “I'm sorry, I don't want to upset you. I'm just relieved to see you safe.”

  “Why? You don't even know me.” People were never this nice to anyone unless they wanted something. She was all too aware of the cramped space they were in, and the two strong men who knew the area much better than she ever would. She doubted she'd be able to outrun the men. They needed the rest, and they definitely needed the food, but she wanted to live more than she wanted their hospitality. Both men were much stronger built than her or Cephy, and would be able to overpower them without a problem.

  But why dress Cephy's wounds if they had ulterior motives? Wouldn't she struggle less if her hands were hurting? Rachael scolded herself for giving them the benefit of the doubt. It could all be an act—a trick to make them feel safe, only to drag them into a bottomless, dark pit the moment they were asleep. She didn't know these men. For all she knew they pulled all their victims in this way.