The villagers were as restless as ants in the hall below, and the brave souls out in the village were dug in to their defensive positions, awaiting the onset of night and the coming battle. Alice sensed each living presence, some pulsing with fear, some strangely calm. She felt fear herself, like a cold stone in her stomach, but all the living beings around her gave her strength; none more so than the warm, familiar presence that climbed towards her up the stairs of the bell tower.
Storm appeared through the opening in the floor, her fur immediately ruffled by the wind and her golden eyes shining in the half light. Alice smiled and stepped away from the parapet. It was cold and a long night was coming. But Storm was with her, which meant that anything was possible.
CHAPTER 12
Far below Dawn, the streets of Meridar glowed as if they were the embers of some great campfire. From her balcony in the Spiral Tower, she watched the streetlamps flicker. She heard the distant cry of the night watchman and smelled the faint tang of chimney smoke. Small flocks of birds flickered across the moonlit sky, the birds Ebony had coaxed into the search for the Narlaw spy. One by one they had landed at the infirmary window to view the sleeping form of the merchant’s son, then flown off into the city skies to hunt for Yusuf’s demon counterpart.
Dawn leaned into the breeze. Even in calm weather, the wind up here on the tower was enough to fling her hair back like a streamer.
Somewhere in this city was the demon and it was her job to find it, no matter what Lady Tremaine claimed. She left the balcony and stepped down into the relative warmth of her study. The messages sent from Valderin were piled on her desk beside a huge map of the city. Ebony had played messenger all night, and not without complaint.
You should have had a pigeon for a companion, not a raven, she had said.
Dawn smiled. She was awaiting the response from one last message. Not from Valderin, but Princess Ona.
There was a heavy thump against the door and Dawn started. It was time.
“Enter,” she called.
The door swung open and one of the red-draped Guards of the Sun stepped inside, ushering in a kitchen maid who carried a tray of tea and bread and was heavily wrapped against the night’s cold.
Dawn nodded to the guard.
“Thank you,” she said to the maid, indicating a space on the edge of the huge desk.
The maid set down her tray and began the laborious process of unwrapping the bread along with a plate and a wedge of cheese. The guard stepped back into the corridor with a look of severe boredom on his blunt features.
As soon as the door closed the maid looked up at Dawn. “We don’t have much time,” she said in a low voice.
Dawn nodded and removed her Whisperer’s robe as the maid did the same with her cloak. They swapped and Dawn noted with satisfaction the maid’s long, black hair, near identical to her own. In seconds they had changed places, Dawn standing over the now empty tray and the maid in a chair at the desk, face lowered over the map and documents there.
Dawn took up the tray and, with a whispered thank you, she headed for the door. The maid nodded in response. Dawn didn’t know her name – a stern, thoughtful girl. She had simply asked Ona to send someone who might act as a double, and Ona had chosen well.
The guard barely even glanced up as Dawn exited her chambers and she felt a rush of excitement as she strode away towards the servants’ stairs. There were two more sets of guards before she was safely out of the tower. With her eyes lowered and a confident, purposeful gait, she made it. She had outwitted Lady Tremaine. Now, though, the real challenge was upon her.
Dawn met Valderin at the edge of the parade ground close to the base of the Spiral Tower. At first glance he seemed to have come alone, but she noticed other individuals idling in the shadows. Neither Valderin nor the others were in uniform.
“You brought some friends,” Dawn said.
“In case we had to liberate you from the tower by force,” replied Valderin.
“Thank you,” said Dawn. “I am quite capable of liberating myself.”
Valderin tilted his head in deference. “Of course. The hunt for the demon has progressed more quickly than we expected. Your skills are needed right away.”
“You’ve found the Narlaw?” Dawn inhaled a rapid lungful of the cold night air.
“Yusuf’s double was sighted near the docklands one hour ago. We have people patrolling both sides of the river, but there are many hiding places.”
“Have you seen Ebony?” Dawn asked.
“Not since your last message,” said Valderin.
They approached the main barracks of the palace guards – Valderin’s territory. Dawn peered up into the night sky. It looked different from ground level, muddied by lamp light, interrupted by so many jagged rooftops. She called out silently to Ebony, casting her senses skyward, out over the city in gentle waves. The sleeping and the sleepless, the skulking, toiling people of the city flashed into her mind’s eye as she did so. She withdrew and cast out again.
Then came the response she desired.
Dawn.
She felt Ebony swooping closer, heard the long, soft patter of her wings, and then the air eddied and Ebony was with her, talons gently shuffling on her cloaked shoulder.
So you dug your way out? she said.
Something like that, Dawn replied. There’s been a sighting at the docklands.
Well then. Ebony hopped from one shoulder to the other, stretching her wings. I’ll meet you there. And I’ll bring my eyes in the sky. She cawed and took flight, vanishing into the dark.
Dawn followed Valderin through the guardhouse and out into a small yard where a coach and horses stood waiting. The animals stamped their hooves, snorting impatiently. Dawn felt anxiety radiate from them, something she understood all too well. The city felt strange tonight: birdsong at the wrong hour, all of this secrecy and haste – and a demon. A hundred years had passed since the Narlaw had dared set foot on the soil of Meridina. But now they were back, and it was Dawn’s watch. It was she who would have to fight them.
She climbed into the coach along with Valderin and one of his guards, and was accelerated away into the tangled, troubled streets of the city.
The docklands spanned two sprawling regions on either side of the river. Barges crowded the shores, so numerous sometimes that it seemed as though you could walk from one side of the river to the other across their decks. Private, guarded piers held the yachts of the wealthy and the fleets of trade vessels that carried all kinds of goods in and out of the city. Warehouses, taverns and customs offices lined the riversides like crooked teeth. By day it was a place for traders; by night a place for thieves and smugglers.
The coach rattled into the heart of the Eastern Docks. This was where the Narlaw had been spotted, still in the guise of the young man, Yusuf. Dawn closed her eyes to the shadowy world that flashed by her. She set her Whisperer sense free and reached out for the fugitive demon.
It was the birds who guided her.
At a bend in the river they had gathered, circling. Gulls, crows, sparrows, finches, pigeons – every type of bird. In the midst of that maelstrom of wheeling, darting bodies, Dawn recognized Ebony, too.
“Up ahead!” Dawn called to Valderin, to the coach driver, to anyone.
“Where?” said Valderin. “Do you see the creature?”
“Follow the birds,” she said. “Quickly!”
The coach thundered ahead, tilting on its wheels, and Dawn struggled to maintain her vision. With her eyes closed, the movements of the coach were especially sickening and she held fast to a leather strap attached to the door. They swerved around a corner and a group of men yelled angrily at them. The birds thickened into what seemed like a solid mass as they neared the river bend.
“Where now?” Valderin asked.
Dawn scanned the dark buildings of the river front: empty warehouses, lone figures on the street. Then her senses lit with the presence of people. Two taverns, almost side by side. One was pac
ked with revellers, the other quiet, but it had rooms upstairs. The throng of birds was overwhelming and Dawn drew her senses in, concentrating on those taverns. She felt the Narlaw then – a sickly thing, like a knot in her throat. She flinched away.
“The second tavern,” she said to Valderin. “Upstairs. In the back corner room, I think.”
She opened her eyes and gladly let her senses retract. Valderin was sitting forward in his seat, one hand on his sword hilt and staring out with a serious, fixed expression at the approaching inn.
“Stop here,” he ordered the driver.
The horses clattered to a standstill.
“Fetch the others from the rendezvous,” Valderin said to the guard who had ridden with them.
The man jumped from the coach and sprinted into the shadows beside the first tavern.
“You should wait here,” Valderin said.
Dawn shook her head, despite the fear that was screaming at her to stay in the coach. “You’ll need my help,” she said.
Valderin narrowed his eyes. He peered out into the street. Now, with a battle coming, Dawn could see he was a warlike man. His body was coiled and ready.
“As you wish,” he said at last. “But let us go in first.”
Dawn nodded. She sensed Ebony approaching and twisted as her companion’s wings filled the small coach window.
You found it, Ebony said.
Thanks to you and your friends up there, Dawn whispered. How did they do it?
Ebony stretched her neck this way and that. All animals know when something’s wrong, she said. Pigeons, wrens, starlings … they can feel the Narlaw too, just not as keenly as a Whisperer. The difficult part was convincing them to flock to the source rather than away from it, but that’s where being a palace raven comes in useful. Even city birds respect a raven.
Dawn smiled. I knew you were good for something.
Ebony hopped and craned her neck as boots echoed on the cobbles nearby. Several shadows broke from the deeper dark of an alleyway. Valderin’s guards, six of them and all in plain clothes.
Valderin climbed from the coach.
Stay close, Dawn said to Ebony as she followed Valderin on to the street.
Always, said Ebony.
“The demon is in the Cross Keys Inn,” Valderin was saying to his guards, pointing to the second of the two taverns. “Upstairs at the back. Sergeant, take two people and locate the rear entrances. Wait downstairs until you hear my signal. The rest of you come with me and Dawn. We’ll take the direct route.”
The sergeant nodded and her long grey hair swayed in its ponytail. She led her team back into the shadows. Dawn strode alongside Valderin, past the crowded inn and its raucous laughter, on to the gloomy, candlelit entrance of the Cross Keys.
Inside was only the barman and one patron, an elderly man who was staring vacantly into his pewter drinking mug. The barman straightened as if he had guessed right away that these new arrivals were not customers, and Valderin began questioning him about the number and location of the rooms upstairs.
Dawn edged between the stained and ill-matching tables and chairs. She could feel the Narlaw now without even reaching out. It hovered over her head like an evil thought. Could it feel her too? She silently rehearsed all of the close-range wards that she knew.
Upstairs the demon’s presence shifted.
Dawn glanced at the bar. “Valderin,” she said.
Her gaze flashed upwards and he read her meaning. He crossed the room immediately.
“This way,” he said.
Dawn followed. The three palace guards raced past her to join their captain. As they rushed through a dim corridor towards an even dimmer stairwell, Valderin whistled once and his sergeant emerged from the rear of the building.
“Wait here,” Valderin said. “Don’t let the demon escape.”
Dawn climbed the stairs, looking back once at the fierce woman guarding the stairs with her sword drawn. “Left,” she whispered, reaching the landing.
Valderin led his guards towards the furthest door.
Dawn swallowed down her nausea and fear together. The Narlaw was so close now, she could feel it in her gut.
Valderin stopped at the door. For a moment there was silence, and Dawn could hear her own racing heartbeat. Then Valderin turned to his guards, nodded three times and kicked the door in with a splintering crack.
The next few seconds passed in a frenzied blur.
Dawn ran to the doorway. Two guards were on the floor, a table was overturned and Valderin and the remaining guard were grappling with something that moved much too quickly to be human. Eerie grey light shone from the demon Yusuf’s eyes. His limbs twisted, lashing out viciously. He kicked against the wall and sent himself and his two attackers flying across the room.
Valderin hit his head and went down. The last guard stood, terrified by this unearthly creature. The Narlaw glared at Dawn, pure malevolence burning on its stolen features. Then it turned to face the window at the end of the room.
Dawn instinctively began to chant.
The words came as naturally as breath, long practised with Esther. The power flowed through her, from the earth beneath the cobbles, from the surging river and the trembling of the wooden floor. She reached out to the edges of this grimy little room and focused.
The Narlaw leaped for the mottled glass of the window. The wooden frame was mouldy and weak, but Dawn sent her words out like arrows, strengthening the ward.
The Narlaw crashed into the glass with a howl of pain and surprise as the ward held. The demon scrambled to its feet, rounding on Dawn as she stood there, entranced by the power channelling through her. The room was a cage now and she was in it.
As the demon came for her she clenched her teeth and made her last command, her last breathless request to the great earth.
The ward contracted, snapping inwards towards the evil in its midst.
Dawn stumbled back as the demon charged. Her back hit the wall and she fell to her knees. The demon sprung for her with arms outstretched. She closed her eyes.
But the blow never fell.
The ward closed and the demon was caught in mid-air, its eyes glowing wide with hatred, just half a stride away from Dawn.
The sergeant thundered into the room then and stopped dead at the sight.
Dawn clambered to her feet. “The others,” she said, barely able to breathe. “They need help.”
The sergeant stared at her in shock, then called downstairs for help before attending to the wounded guards.
The ward crackled and hissed as the demon struggled. It took all of Dawn’s strength to hold it in place, but she stood and chanted silently, staring into those ghost-grey eyes, not quite able to believe what she had done.
CHAPTER 13
Alice kept watch from the bell tower as stars blossomed in the sky and the forest heaved like a dark ocean all around. More and more she caught herself glancing south towards the Meridar road, hoping for some sign that their call for help had been answered by the palace. But no soldiers came. The village of Catchwood was alone on the mountainside.
Storm paced behind her, lit by the flickering yellow of a single oil lamp. The hours crept by.
Alice practised her casting out. She shivered from the cold wind and with the nerves that knotted the muscles in her stomach. Still there was no sign of the Narlaw. Perhaps they would not come. Perhaps they had fled. But these were cowardly thoughts and Alice knew it. Wherever the demons were they had to be found and banished, otherwise Moraine and the others would languish forever in the ghost-sleep.
And so the night crawled on. Weariness settled over Alice, threatening to lower her into a guilty sleep. She paced alongside Storm, trying to keep her senses sharp, battling the exhaustion.
Then the moment came: in the dead, dark hours, when the night was at its thickest, the protective ward around the village was breached.
Alice felt it like the crack of a whip inside her head. She cried out, wordlessly.
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sp; Storm came to her. It is time? she asked.
Alice nodded. The ward is broken.
A shout went up in the village, somewhere near the south gate.
Alice glanced once across the dark rooftops then ran to the stairs.
“Sound the bell!” she shouted down. “They’re here!”
She looked back at Storm, a fresh panic fluttering in her chest. The bell clanged furiously below, sending shockwaves through the wooden floor.
Now, said Storm. You know you can do it.
Alice nodded, took a deep, deep breath and strode back to the parapet.
Immediately she knew the Narlaw were near. There was a taint in the air, dulled slightly by the ward around the village hall, but sickening nonetheless. Alice cast her senses wide.
The forest felt different at night – different creatures, different movements; even the trees were changed. She felt the gathered people in the hall below and the defenders by the wall, the wolves prowling unseen in the narrow streets and…
The touch of the demon shocked Alice out of her trance. She flinched back from the parapet. It had flashed into her consciousness, lightning quick and brimming with malevolence, like a ghost passing through her body.
So this was how it felt.
Alice shuddered. Six village hunters had been taken by the Narlaw, which meant there were at least five more of these creatures out there. How could she hope to banish them all when she couldn’t bare the touch of just one?
The screech and crash of timber split the sky. More shouts went up – the howl of a wolf this time, too. The fighting had begun.
Storm tensed beside her. I should go, she said. The wolves came at my request. I must fight beside them.
You’re right, said Alice, afraid all over again to be left alone on the roof of the tower.
Remember Soraya, said Storm. You are a Whisperer. You were born to do this. She rubbed her neck against Alice’s side before darting on to the downward stairway.
A Whisper of Wolves Page 8
