by A. E. Rayne
And a whisp slid out from behind the door, aiming its blade at Marcus’ neck. Hearing Hanna’s scream, Marcus spun around, cutting it in half.
They could see them more clearly now.
The tiny creatures were everywhere. Swarming like flies.
Entorp drew his knife and charged, yelping as a whisp sliced its blade across the back of his hand.
‘You need a sword! Get a sword!’ Biddy panicked from the circle, watching him stagger backwards, scanning the room, trying to see everyone who was in danger, which was impossible as everyone appeared to be in danger.
‘Where’s Gant?’ Gisila panicked. ‘Where is he?’
‘Father!’ Hanna shouted, drawing her eating knife and slashing at a whisp aiming for Marcus’ back. ‘Behind you!’
Jael had reached the wagon, and she popped her head inside, not surprised to find Ayla awake, bent over a fire, Astrid and Bruno looking confused and half asleep on either side of her.
Ayla was relieved that Jael had come.
‘Stay inside the wagon,’ she breathed. ‘I must go outside quickly and try to make us safe before Draguta brings them here!’
‘Brings what here?’ Jael couldn’t catch her breath as she moved to one side to let Ayla pass.
But Ayla wasn’t listening as she hurried out of the wagon, knife in hand.
Gant could feel Gus shuddering as the whisps stabbed and slashed his rump. ‘Edela!’ he yelled, hoping she could hear him somehow. ‘Please!’ He couldn’t be everywhere. Couldn’t keep Gus safe. Couldn’t save the other horses. Couldn’t save his men.
Bram was trying to be everywhere, cutting the whisps to pieces, but more and more swept into the stables, attacking the horses, trying to hurt him. ‘Aarrghh!’ he screamed, stumbling forward, just holding onto his sword, not wanting to imagine what was happening outside the stables.
They were still in the tiny, windowless cottage, and there was not enough room to swing a sword, but Ulf was trying.
So was Berard.
The creatures glowed, pale like moonbeams. Berard could almost see through them. Whisps. But not the whisps he’d heard tales about. Their tiny eyes were oddly dead; the eyes of killers.
The children were gathered on a bed, crying, terrified, and Bayla was trying to keep them all calm, but they could feel the cold breeze swirling around the cottage. They could see the little whisps darting around the room, blades out, trying to hurt them.
And then one of them did.
A whisp slid its blade along the back of Kai’s chubby leg. He yelped, blood running, tears stopping as the shock set in.
‘Kai! Bayla, take him!’ And Nicolene was up off the bed, slipping her eating knife from its scabbard, standing in front of her two sons and their three cousins, and Bayla who was working hard to hold onto them all. Swinging around, Nicolene slashed her knife from side to side, trying to keep them safe.
‘Open the door!’ Ulf yelled, surrounded by six whisps who dove and swooped and tried to stab him. They were so fast, though, moving wherever he wasn’t. ‘We need to see! More light, Berard! Aarrghh!’
Meena’s head was spinning, her ears ringing with Draguta’s laughter as she peered into her circle, lost in the chaos, enjoying the entertainment.
Andala.
Meena felt that strongly.
Draguta was doing something to Andala.
Ayla dragged her knife through the dirt, making a circle around the wagon, hunched over, murmuring under her breath, the noises in Andala loud in her ears. She had studied the Book of Aurea until its vellum pages were seared into her memory. She knew how to make a circle of protection, though whether it would keep out Draguta’s magic was yet to be determined.
Straightening up, she saw a flash of Edela, her pale face aglow in the flames, worry etched into the lines of consternation across her brow.
She was confused, uncertain, Ayla could tell.
She needed help.
‘Gus!’ Gant couldn’t hold him up. His horse collapsed onto the straw with a groan and a thud. ‘Gus!’ Gant dropped down to the ground beside him. He could feel Gus’ blood oozing through his hands as he tried to staunch its flow; as he tried to find his horse’s wounds, knowing that there were too many. ‘It’s alright,’ he soothed, running a hand down Gus’ cheek. ‘I’ll go and find Entorp. He’ll get those stinking salves of his, don’t worry.’ But he was worrying, not wanting to lose his loyal horse who had been by his side for nearly twenty years.
Straightening up, Gant knew that he had to leave.
He had to get back to the hall.
Bram was shouting, yelping, working with their men to try and kill the whisps, but they were everywhere, lethal blades hissing through the air.
And Gant couldn’t see a way through.
Ayla rushed back into the wagon, squeezing in between Astrid and Jael. Bruno sat on their bed with the drum, waiting expectantly, eyes on his wife.
‘I need to slip into a trance now! Throw those herbs onto the fire! Hold my hand, Jael. You will help me reach Edela.’ And gripping Jael’s hand, she turned her eyes to the flames. ‘Bruno, start drumming.’
Jael’s eyes closed, and she heard the beat of her grandmother’s heart again, sensing her confusion, hoping that Ayla could get to her in time.
Entorp spun, listening to Derwa and Alaric yelping and shrieking from the beds along the walls where Alaric was trying his best to fight off the swirling whisps. Marcus was on his knees, blood dripping from his head, his arms. Hanna, pale-faced and panting, stood by him, knife in her bleeding hand, trying to keep the whisps far away from her father.
The noise in the hall was a clattering panic, and Edela was working hard to shut it all out. She dipped her finger into the bloody mixture she had prepared earlier, and bent over the floor, inhaling the smoke. There was no symbol in the Book of Aurea that dealt with whisps, of that she was certain now. But the gentle sprites had been possessed by Draguta, and she remembered a symbol from her time in Tuura – the one they had used during the raven attack – though she could not remember the chant.
Not yet, anyway.
Leaning forward, she started painting the bloody symbol, suddenly aware of Ayla’s voice vibrating through her. And feeling encouraged, Edela drew with confidence now, repeating Ayla’s chant in a loud voice. ‘Say it with me, girls!’ she called to Eydis and Ontine. ‘Say it with me!’ And sitting back on her haunches, she grabbed Eydis’ hand with her right, Ontine’s with her left, squeezing tightly as their voices lifted up her croaking one.
And the shimmering lights that were the whisps suddenly went out, their tiny bodies falling to the floor like a cloud of dust, their glowing eyes as dull as stones.
‘One by one, you will be gone.’
Draguta stood with a smile, her eyes on the seeing circle glowing around the table. It had been amusing. Enjoyable. Destructive.
She was content to let the Andalans live in a permanent state of terror now.
Happy to let it be that way until it was done.
For soon it would be.
And leaving Meena and Evaine at the table, glassy-eyed and light-headed, she moved towards the fire, hands extended, inhaling the smoke.
So fragrant. So powerful.
Just as she was.
The moon was gone again, lost in the clouds, but so were the whisps.
Marcus collapsed to the ground, bleeding. He heard the intense ringing in his ears, the pain in his body quickly overwhelming him as everything went dark.
Entorp hurried to him, dropping to his knees. ‘Marcus?’
Hanna rushed to his side. ‘Father!’ She leaned over Marcus’ body, grabbing his hand. ‘Father?’
Edela could hear the panic in the hall as she tried to catch her breath, dropping her head, inhaling a mouthful of smoke. Biddy brought her a cup of water, her hand shaking as she waited for Edela to take it.
Edela took a quick gulp. ‘We need to make sure everyone’s safe. Biddy, help me up! Those whisps may have been everyw
here. Likely they were. Gant hasn’t come back.’
Gisila looked terrified, worried eyes blinking in the flames.
She wanted to stand.
‘No!’ Edela glared at her. ‘I will go and find him on my way to Branwyn. I need to make sure that she’s alright. Kayla and Aedan and the baby too. You stay there. I’ll send Gant back when I find him.’ Biddy grabbed Edela’s arm, leading her to Marcus, who remained unconscious. Derwa had quickly shuffled over to check on him, though she was trembling so much that she couldn’t decide where to begin.
‘How is he?’ Edela wondered, peering down at Marcus. Hanna was sobbing, cradling his body, which was not the best sign. Nor was the amount of blood leaking through his clothes. She squinted. It was suddenly so dark. ‘We must get these fires higher! Alaric!’ Edela saw him perched on a bed, his pale face bleeding, too afraid to move. ‘Grab some wood! Get the fires going! Find more lamps! Hurry now!’
‘Nicolene?’ Ulf leaned over her body, confused.
Her dead body.
But how was she dead?
‘What happened?’ He reached out to Bayla, tapping her arm, trying to get her attention but Bayla was too shocked to move. Her mouth was ajar, her grandchildren screaming and sobbing around her. Kai and Eron had crawled out of her lap, down onto their mother’s lifeless body.
They had kept the fire going, and there was enough light to see that Nicolene was most certainly dead. Her eyes, fixed open, were staring up at the rafters in surprise.
Berard tried to wake himself up, hurrying towards his tiny nephews. ‘Eron, Kai,’ he called. ‘Here now, come here.’ And dropping his sword, he grabbed Kai’s arm.
Ulf picked Eron up, getting an ear-full of terrified wailing. ‘Ssshhh,’ he tried, looking down at Nicolene’s body. There wasn’t a cut on her. No blood. He couldn’t see anything.
But she was very much dead.
26
Jael sat back, leaning against the side of the wagon, staring at Ayla. ‘I don’t know what happened, but it was something, wasn’t it?’
Astrid and Bruno looked on in confusion, wanting to know themselves.
‘It was whisps,’ Ayla breathed, seeing the flashing images in her mind. ‘Sprites you can only see in moonlight. They can make themselves thinner than vellum, as small as ants. But they’re friendly. Supposed to be friendly.’
Jael had heard of them. ‘And did Edela stop them?’
‘She did,’ Ayla nodded, breathing out a sigh of relief. ‘She used a symbol. Edela knew it, but not the chant. I helped her, but...’ Her voice trailed away.
‘What?’ Bruno touched his wife’s arm, sensing her distress. ‘What happened?’
‘They killed a lot of animals.’
‘Animals?’
‘Livestock,’ Ayla said. ‘I saw a lot of dead livestock. Horses too. They were in the stables. I felt the horses dying.’
Jael sat up straight. ‘What can we do?’
‘We’ve done all we can, Jael,’ Ayla insisted. ‘I’ve drawn a protective circle around the wagon, which I hope will keep us safe. The whisps in Andala are dead, and if Draguta sends them here, we know how to stop them.’
Jael wanted to leave and check on Tig. ‘Did you see anything else?’ she wondered, standing up, whacking her head on the roof.
Ayla’s ears were ringing with a chorus of terrified cries, and she was struggling to concentrate. ‘No, but I’ll find you if I do.’
Jael left the wagon, walking as quickly as she could in the darkness, hurrying to find Tig who appeared distressed but unharmed. The horses were all disturbed, moving about, pulling against their ropes, making noises, not sounding sleepy at all.
Convinced that they weren’t in any immediate danger, Jael headed back to the caves, carefully winding her way through the fires which were higher now, burning brighter, men alert, watching as she passed.
Aleksander came out to meet her, Karsten too.
Karsten gripped her arm. ‘What happened?’
And for the first time, Jael saw a flash of the whisps, and her mouth dropped open. ‘I...’ She blinked.
‘Jael?’ Axl was there too, Thorgils and Rork behind him. ‘What happened?’
‘There was an attack in Andala,’ she said, her eyes on Axl, eager to get away from Karsten. ‘Draguta sent some creatures. I don’t know what happened, but Edela stopped it. Ayla saw that.’
Nobody spoke. Minds whirring, full of worry.
Jael took a deep breath. ‘I’ve checked on the horses and the men, and they’re fine. There’s nothing we can do for Andala from here. Best we all go back to sleep if we can. Those keeping watch should stay alert, though. I’m going to take one more walk around the fires, just to be sure. Axl, you take the other side.’
Her brother nodded, disturbed by the strain he could hear in his sister’s voice, but certain that she wouldn’t have been able to even speak if something had happened to Gisila or Edela.
‘I’ll come with you.’ Thorgils quickly strode away from the caves, leaving Karsten behind to keep watch, wanting to know more. Wanting more assurance that Isaura was safe. Jael had sounded strangely evasive. ‘What did you see?’ he asked when they were out of earshot. ‘You can tell me.’
Jael sighed, turning to him, grateful for someone to talk to. ‘I saw Nicolene Dragos.’
‘Oh.’
‘She looked dead.’
Thorgils didn’t say anything for a moment. He could hear men murmuring around the fires, restless, wondering why everyone was wandering around. ‘Don’t tell him, Jael.’ He placed a hand on her arm. ‘He doesn’t need to know now, does he? I wouldn’t want to.’
‘You wouldn’t?’
Thorgils shook his head. ‘Here? Where we can’t do anything except face our own destiny? Likely death? I wouldn’t want to know. If you see anything about Isaura, keep it from me. Let me die believing that she’ll live long after I’ve gone. Let me think I did something to save her.’ And feeling sad for Karsten, and worried about Isaura, he strode off ahead of Jael towards the horses.
Jael watched his hulking shadow merge into the darkness, knowing that he was right. Hoping that she’d be able to hide it from Karsten.
She was a terrible liar.
When they rolled Nicolene over, they found her wounds. Two in her neck. One in her back. Two more in her waist. Tiny, tiny holes, but they must have been deep, sharp, quick cuts. She’d never even cried out.
That was wrong, Ulf realised, shaking his head. She had been crying out the whole time, but they’d both thought that it was in anger, warning the whisps away from the children as she fought off their attackers.
The floor was wet with Nicolene’s blood now, the cottage stinking with the smell of death, and Berard could hear the children becoming more and more upset. Eron had worked himself into such a state that he sounded ready to vomit. ‘We need to go,’ he whispered, imagining Karsten’s face. ‘To the hall. We should go. Away from here. The children need to leave.’
Bayla didn’t move, and Ulf realised that she was still in shock.
Eron was flailing his arms, snot running from his nose, his face drenched in tears. Kai slipped out of Berard’s grasp and threw himself on Nicolene’s body. Berard had to drag the boy off his mother, though he didn’t want to. But they needed to leave the cottage, to see what had happened to everyone else.
They needed to get to safety.
Marcus had opened his eyes for a time but lost consciousness again as Derwa started stitching him up. He was bleeding from too many wounds to count, and Derwa had quickly employed Entorp who stood on the other side of Marcus’ long body, working away with another needle and thread, lamps burning all around them as they struggled to see.
Hanna had stopped weeping, but she shook uncontrollably, praying to all the gods that her father would survive. She sat on a bench, watching, not wanting to get in the way.
Edela stood beside her, a hand on her shoulder. ‘He is a big man,’ she murmured, not wanting to distract Derwa and
Entorp. ‘Losing all that blood will not affect him as much. They just need to sew him up quickly, which they will, don’t worry. Derwa is a fast worker.’ She was worried, though, having seen no sign of Gant on her visit to check on Branwyn. And glancing at Gisila, who still lay in the circle, she could tell that she was feeling the same.
Ontine was on her knees, helping to hold down a young woman, a servant who’d been stabbed in the leg. Her wound was bleeding profusely, and she was panicking as Biddy tried to stitch her.
‘Press her ankle down, Ontine,’ Biddy grumbled, knowing that she didn’t sound sympathetic, but she needed to stem the bleeding which was gushing like a waterfall. ‘Please.’ Eydis was beside her. ‘Can you help? Eydis? Move around to Lysette’s head, there you go. Now see if you can hold her shoulders down. Keep her steady now.’
Gisila looked around as the hall doors burst open and Gant came in, relieved to see her trying to sit up in Edela’s circle, reaching out for him. He ran to her, dropping to his knees. ‘You’re alright?’
Gisila nodded, grimacing as he held her close. ‘You?’
Gant sighed. ‘I’ve a few cuts. Nowhere important by the feel of it. But Gus...’ He shook his head. ‘The whisps were in the stables, killing the horses. I need someone to look at those that are left. If there’s anyone?’
Edela came to join them, her brow furrowed. ‘The horses?’
Gant nodded. ‘The horses, the goats. Chickens and pigs. Looks like Draguta went after the livestock more than us, though I’ve come across some dead too. But the animals...’
Edela frowned, a chilling realisation sinking in. ‘It’s a game. A slow death. One cut at a time. Kill our livestock, and what will we eat? A slow death.’ Her voice was low, and only Gant and Gisila could hear her.
