A Whisper of Wolves
Page 4
“You have come close,” Moraine said, taking one of the benches. “But you’ve never fully merged with the earth, not in the way necessary for the act of banishment.”
“No,” said Alice. This had always been the hardest aspect of her training, the one requiring most patience and subtlety. Alice took the other bench, wishing that the Narlaw could be fought and banished using physical skills, or her knowledge of the forest alone.
“Like a ward or a stealth wish,” Moraine said, “you must reach out to the earth – the earth from which all life came. But now you must reach out with your whole self, and become a channel for the earth’s great power.”
Alice nodded solemnly. She knew what was demanded of her and had attempted it many times, always falling short, always lacking the stillness or the concentration required. She was too easily distracted, too alert to the physical forest around her, to Storm’s constant presence. And she had grown used to Moraine’s patient, gentle ways, but she could no longer afford to fail at this. Moraine could not tackle the Narlaw by herself.
Alice closed her eyes. The forest shook around her like an angry tide. She tried to empty her head of thoughts, to let the cool wind engulf her, to let the soil merge with her feet. She ignored Storm’s gently shifting presence back in the clearing. Give in, she urged herself, give your whole self to the earth. Storm receded slowly. All she could hear was the roar of the wind. Then the earth beneath her began to shine with life. Alice drew closer to its presence, letting any thought that came into her head be dragged away by the wind. The earth’s presence grew stronger. She opened herself to it, the life-giver and the root of all things. And now the wind was gone and there was only silence and warmth. She was close. She felt nothing but an immense stillness. It was frightening and beautiful – to be lost and to be part of the great earth all at once. For an instant she felt pride, like a pinprick through this earth trance, and that feeling alone made her concentration waver. Then a voice broke in and the earth’s deep presence rushed away. Alice opened her eyes to the jarring, swaying forest. Moraine was standing over her, Hazel like a sentinel on her outstretched arm.
And there was Storm.
Narlaw, she said. They have attacked a party of villagers at the forest edge.
Alice stood, unsteady on her feet.
“You were close, child.” Moraine laid a hand on her shoulder. “I could feel it.”
Alice tried to smile, but she was filled with fear.
“I wished to send Hazel to my friend Soraya for help,” said Moraine. “But there’s no time.” She took Alice firmly by the shoulders. “We will go to the villagers’ aid,” she said. “But if anything should happen… If I… Well, then you must seek help from Soraya at Blind Crag. Do you understand?”
Alice nodded, shocked at the suggestion that something might happen to Moraine. “If it comes to that, I’ll find her,” she said. “I’ll bring help, I promise.”
Moraine nodded. “Good. Now…”
She turned.
Hazel had already taken flight, leading the way towards the stricken villagers. On the harsh wind, Alice heard a distant cry of alarm.
Are you ready? Storm asked, her golden eyes glowing.
I’m ready, said Alice, though she did not feel it.
Storm snorted and nuzzled into her. Then they ran together, into the woods.
CHAPTER 6
The forest flashed by, blurred and murky as if it were a dream. Alice fought hard to stay steady on her feet. Her attempt at the earth trance had left her drained and disoriented.
Moraine slowed to let her catch up. “When we arrive, you must stay clear of the demons,” she told Alice. “Help the villagers to safety. That’s all.”
“But how will you fight them alone?” Alice asked.
Moraine stared straight ahead as she ran. “I have prepared for this all my life. Now comes the test.”
Alice felt her heart lurch in fear. Storm and Hazel were nowhere to be seen and the shouts of the villagers were much louder now, coming from a steep section of forest up ahead, near the ruins of an old cottage. Everything was moving too fast.
“There!” Moraine called out.
Shadows flitted between the trees and Alice found a new burst of speed, a reserve of energy. The crumbling grey stone of the cottage came into view and she felt Storm close by. Then she was there, face to face with the Narlaw.
The demon wore a familiar form, a tall woman with curly blonde hair – one of the missing hunters. But the sockets of its eyes glowed with unearthly grey light and the sickening wrongness of its presence invaded all of Alice’s senses.
There were four villagers there, one of whom lay unconscious at the Narlaw’s feet. The demon gripped the man’s wrist with a powerful hand and a boy, Owen from the marketplace, had the comatose man by the legs. A terrible tug-of-war was taking place.
“Get the villagers away!” Moraine ordered as she arrived. “Get them to safety no matter what.” Even as she ran into the fray, Moraine had closed her eyes, beginning her approach to the earth trance.
Storm went straight for the Narlaw, snarling and darting in to try and break its grip on the man while avoiding the demon’s touch. Hazel attacked with wings spread and talons bared. The Narlaw swept its free arm through the air with awesome power and speed, driving both companions back at every attempt.
Alice ran to where the other two villagers stood, transfixed by the fight. She grabbed the first, an elderly man, by the arm. “You have to go!” she shouted.
The man ignored her, simply staring aghast at the scene before him.
Alice tried the woman standing beside him. “Get him out of here,” she said. “Get back to the village.”
“But my husband…” the woman said, staring hopelessly at the man at the Narlaw’s feet.
“We’ll help him,” Alice promised. “But you have to go.”
Owen cried out as the Narlaw swung a fist at him and Alice charged in to help free the stricken man. She grabbed the man’s right leg and hauled with all her strength. Owen glanced across at her, wide-eyed.
“You knew?” he shouted. “You knew the demons had come?”
“I tried to warn the elders,” Alice panted, struggling to maintain her grip. “They wouldn’t listen.”
Owen turned away from her, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. The Narlaw’s strength was unnatural. It took everything they had just to stop it from dragging the man away.
Alice glanced at Storm, who shot her a decisive look.
Get ready, Storm said.
Alice tightened her grip and nodded to Owen, who seemed to understand.
Storm pounced with her jaws wide and sank them deep into the Narlaw’s wrist. The demon’s grip loosened and the man slid from its grasp, toppling Alice and Owen in the process.
“Storm!” Alice shouted.
Storm stumbled away, retching violently and shaking her head at the taste of Narlaw flesh.
The demon turned on Storm, but Hazel renewed her swooping attacks, going for the demon’s neck, trying to keep it away from Storm and the others. By now Moraine was deep in the earth trance, kneeling on the forest floor, oblivious to what was happening around her. She would be reaching out, trying to hold the Narlaw’s presence close as the earth channelled through her.
“Help me!”
Alice turned. It was Owen, trying to drag the comatose man away into the trees on his own. The other two villagers had finally fled. Alice stood, torn three ways. Storm was hurt, the villagers needed her to help them back to safety and Moraine was completely exposed. She called to Storm: Run! Come back with me!
Storm looked up; her eyes were pale, confused by the venomous touch of the demon. But she blinked and focused and saw the Narlaw advancing, still harried by Hazel. She darted, stumbling like a cub, across the clearing to Alice’s side.
Alice joined Owen and together they lifted the man so they could carry him across both their shoulders. Storm was too disoriented to help.
It’s all right,
Alice whispered, straining under the weight of the man. We’ll get back to the village. Moraine will be fine.
But as she glanced back she realized with a terrible jolt that this was not the case. The Narlaw swung its powerful fist and struck Hazel out of the air, sending her thumping into the stone wall of the abandoned cottage. Hazel fell to the ground with a screech.
“No!” Alice cried as the demon advanced on Moraine.
She dropped the unconscious man and sprinted back.
“Stop!” cried Owen.
But Alice raced on.
Moraine jerked suddenly, shaking her head. Her link with the earth had failed. She saw the Narlaw only paces away and tried to rise from her knees, but it was too late.
The demon placed a hand on her forehead and Moraine crumpled instantly to the ground. Into the ghost-sleep.
Alice cried out breathlessly as she ran and Hazel shrieked in torment at the sudden loss of her bond with Moraine.
The Narlaw lifted Moraine as if she were nothing more than a baby. Then it turned and bounded away, vanishing into the shaking pines.
CHAPTER 7
Only once before had Dawn climbed to the summit of the north wall. Years ago, during the early days of her training, Esther had brought her here to witness the fortifications and the palace’s complex waterworks. Now, as she toiled up the exposed stone staircase that clung to the interior of the wall, Dawn remembered why she had not returned since.
A dizzying distance below, vast water tanks filled a courtyard that was under constant shadow of the wall and the towering spires of the palace. The engineers and attendants working at ground level appeared like insects from this height. Dawn gripped the rope handhold and tried not to look down, placing her feet carefully on the worn stone steps. Ebony was already at the top, peering out from the battlements. James Valderin was up there too, no stranger to the precarious walkways of the palace’s outer defences.
Dawn reached the top and received the full blast of the wind and the glorious view all at once. The craggy hills of the uplands stretched into the distance, where they blurred and met with the forested mountain ranges of the far north. The nearest of the hilltops, crowned with rocks, was the source of the palace water supply. From its natural springs, the main aqueduct carried water directly to the palace.
Someone’s feeling giddy, Ebony said, flapping on to Dawn’s shoulder.
Well, not all of us can fly, Dawn replied. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been gripping the stone battlements.
Valderin was halfway along the wall by now, his blue guard-captain’s cape flapping manically in the wind. Dawn set off after him; she couldn’t let herself be overcome by fear. Each time the wind gusted, however, she found herself clutching at the wall beside her.
Trust your feet, said Ebony. The parapet is more than wide enough.
Dawn didn’t reply. Valderin had halted up ahead and was leaning through what seemed to be a huge gap in the wall.
“The aqueduct,” said Valderin as Dawn approached. “You can see the damage for yourself.”
Dawn peered cautiously out and her head instantly began to spin. She focused, ignoring her churning stomach as the wall plunged some hundred feet to the valley floor. The aqueduct lay a short distance below, spanning the valley from the hillside to the palace wall, passing through to feed the water tanks. Except the water was not reaching the wall; instead it cascaded into the valley through a ragged hole in the aqueduct.
There were engineers at work already, laying wooden supports and clambering across the damaged structure with blocks of stone and buckets of wet mortar. Dawn was about to ask how they got there when she noticed the rope ladder dangling just below her feet. A pulley system was being used to lower masonry and timber to the work site.
“Shall we take a closer look?” Valderin asked.
Dawn stared, aghast, at the rope ladder. She didn’t have to climb down, surely. She could see well enough from where she was. Then she thought of Lady Tremaine. What if word got back to her that Dawn hadn’t dared go down, or something on the aqueduct was overlooked?
“Yes,” Dawn found herself saying. “We should inspect the damage.”
She took a deep breath and lowered herself on to the first swaying rung of the rope ladder.
Her sense of duty carried her down to the aqueduct, somehow overriding the horror she felt at being suspended over such a terrible drop.
As soon as she reached solid ground, Ebony landed on her shoulder in a gesture of pride and support. On shaky legs, Dawn approached an engineer and requested a report on the damage. The woman led her and Valderin to a discarded pile of wood.
“This was part of the arch support,” the engineer told her. “The rest of it’s down on the valley floor.”
Dawn picked up a warped length of timber.
“It looks rotten,” she said.
The engineer shook her head. “These supports were replaced only six months ago. Look here,” she pointed out a strange pattern of erosion at the broken end of the support. “It’s almost as if something burned through it.”
“And what could have done this?” Valderin asked.
The engineer shrugged. “I don’t know, sir.”
Dawn examined the burn marks. Something nudged at a memory deep in the back of her mind.
Ebony seemed to sense the direction of her thoughts.
There are creatures who destroy with their very touch, she said.
Dawn nodded. She glanced at Valderin, who gave her a questioning look.
“Thank you,” Dawn said to the engineer before striding back towards the rope ladder, followed closely by Valderin.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing clear enough to speak out loud. First we have to find out who was here last night. If anyone suspicious was sighted.”
“The guards have already been questioned. Only the usual servants and water-tank attendants were seen in the vicinity. The merchant’s son, Yusuf, passed through the courtyard also.”
Dawn paused with one foot on the rope ladder.
“Yusuf? What would he be doing in this part of the palace?”
“Lost, perhaps? He’s new to the palace, apparently.” Valderin narrowed his eyes in thought. “No. You’re right. We should question him.”
Dawn nodded and began the sickening climb back towards the looming battlements.
Valderin gave orders for his guards to scour the palace for Yusuf. He was the newest member of Princess Ona’s inner circle and, if Ebony was right, the object of the princess’s affections.
“We will go straight to Ona’s quarters,” Dawn said, striding through the busy servants’ corridors that linked the north wall to the east wing of the palace. She hoped the urgency of their search would overrule King Eneron’s ban on contact with the princess.
Valderin gathered a small group of guards as they went, so that they arrived in the east wing as a formidable group.
The tall doors that led into Ona’s quarters were closed and before them stood two of King Eneron’s personal bodyguards, the Guards of the Sun. Their red uniforms and blazing gold helmets gave them an imperious look, and the stern expressions they wore suggested a high level of self-regard.
“Open the doors,” Valderin ordered. “We are here to conduct a search of the princess’s quarters.”
The king’s guards glared, unmoving. Each one held a tall spear. The weapons were gold-tasselled and highly ornamental, but their blades looked sharp and perfectly deadly.
“I said open these doors,” Valderin barked. “I am the Head of Guards and this is a matter of urgency!”
The guard on the left spoke first, a tall man with bulging arms: “We answer only to the king,” he said. “No one may pass without our lord’s express permission.”
Valderin strode forwards as if to force the doors open himself and the two guards flashed into action, crossing their spears in front of him and blocking his way. Valderin stopped short. His own palace guards drew their s
words, awaiting the order to attack.
“How dare you take arms against me!” Valderin raged. “There is a saboteur at large. The king himself may be in danger and you presume to bar me from these quarters?”
“Sir,” the second guard – a short, agile-looking woman – spoke. “A signed pass from the king will suffice. Until then we are duty bound to seal these doors.”
Valderin snorted angrily and his guards bristled behind him. Dawn stood by, infuriated and scared. King Eneron’s mad wish to keep his daughter from the world was about to cause bloodshed in his own palace. She could see Valderin growing more and more irate. His authority had been questioned and his pride hurt in full view of his own retainers. She had to do something before things escalated beyond anyone’s control.
“Please,” she stepped between the two parties and addressed both sides in what she hoped was a calm and confident tone. “Commander Valderin, Guards of the Sun; we are each doing our duty to the king and the safety of the palace is our shared concern. I acknowledge the king’s decree protecting the privacy of Princess Ona and will seek his permission to enter in the proper way. Our cause is urgent, however, and I, as Palace Whisperer, would be grateful if you would allow a message to be passed to the princess while I seek the king’s permission.”
The king’s guards glanced at her, barely taking their eyes from Valderin’s guards.
“Commander Valderin,” said Dawn. “Please stand your people down.”
She felt a deep flush of nerves and embarrassment at issuing such an order – and to a man twice her age, a man armed and experienced where she was simply a girl from the Southlands.
But to her surprise Valderin stepped away, and with a nod he drew his guards back. Swords slid back into scabbards. The tall spears of the Sun Guard uncrossed at the door.
“A message is permitted if the emergency is true,” the woman guard said.
Dawn nodded in thanks and asked politely for paper and a quill. As Valderin led his guards away to expand the search for Yusuf, she drafted a note to Princess Ona and handed it to the guards at the door.