Cook shook her head sadly. ‘I wouldn’t know how to live, now.’
Mira swung herself up onto the horse, and I climbed up behind, still not looking at Vereski’s body. Cook removed the keys from his belt and, checking the yard was clear, led us outside, beneath the spikes, unlocking the gate.
There was no time for a proper farewell. She left the keys in the gate, and the whole thing ajar, to make it look like Vereski had left in haste. As we rode away through the dark town, down the steep spiral of the hill, past Malovski’s house and out through the border gate, I wondered how she would dispose of the body.
I hoped she would burn it, and set his soul wandering for eternity, just as he had sent my MamÄ’s. Only here, in this treeless place, there would be no Iele to catch him. He would be alone and rootless, for ever.
As soon as we hit the vast flat stretches of the fields, mounds of earth tilled and churned up in raked lines, I finally took my first full breath since my sister had been dragged from the hall.
My mind raced: I could barely process any of what had happened. I had sung and Kizzy had danced, and now we had been swirled apart, as if fulfilling our fates had undone a lifetime’s bond.
And I had written myself a new fate. I was a murderer. The word grew large in my head, whispered by wet, struggling breath. I pressed my ear hard into Mira’s back, turning the other to the wind.
My arms were about her, her sharp ribs biting my wrists. She rode confidently, steering the horse along the very same road we had been caged along a month previous. When we reached the edge of the forest, the crossroads would come in more ways than one.
I knew I would have to say goodbye to her. She should go to the sea, or the endless forests Cook spoke of, but me? Only one road lay ahead, and that was the very same my sister was being hauled along, towards Albu and Kem. Towards the Dragon.
I looked up to the moon, veiled by fast, skudding clouds. A day shy of seventeen years a free Traveller. A month a slave. And now?
Murderer.
Here and there, tree stumps reared in the dark, and between them huts and houses that I knew from Fen were where the labourers slept. He had told us life was easier here, and I could already see it for myself. Fresh air, and the cover of night to have a little freedom. Shadowy figures talked softly, paying us little mind: lovers and friends finding moments of comfort in the dark.
We passed the Badger’s house, unlit and silent, and the dwellings grew less and less solid, less well made, slumping like shamed dogs, propped on rickety beams. There was a light on in the outermost building, shining through holes in its thatch and walls.
I sat up straighter, my arm knocking breath from Mira. She gasped.
‘Sorry,’ I said, loosening my grip. ‘Can we stop? Just for a moment.’
She twisted her head as far as it would go, so I saw her frown in profile.
‘Please? It won’t take long.’
She pulled Orsha to a walk, checking around us, and finally drew the mare to a stop. I slid off the horse’s back, landing hard on the packed road. It sent up the scent of earth, and I wanted to drop to my knees and bury my face in the dirt, however cultivated. It was still earth; sun dried, rain fed. But instead I moved quickly to the slumped house that leaked light.
Mira made a noise of caution, but I ignored her. ‘If anyone questions me, or you, ride and don’t look back.’
Mira rolled her eyes, as if to say as if I’d go, and it gladdened my heart.
Voices came from inside, voices I knew, had listened to many times beside an open fire. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine myself back there in the forest, grow the tree stumps into full oaks, the tilled fields into wildflowers. But there was no time for longing.
I knocked twice on the splintered door. The wood was patched with many different offcuts, overlaid like hands of different hues. The voices came to an abrupt stop. Fearful whispers sprang up like steam, and I called through the door.
‘Fen? It’s Lil.’
It was pulled open so suddenly I stumbled inside, and before I could find my footing, many pairs of arms came tight about me, laughter ringing in my ears.
‘Lil!’
Morsh was at my waist, holding fast to my left side. Through the tangle of bodies and smell of sweat and dirt, I saw a square room filled wall to wall with straw mattresses, with a perilously narrow space left clear at the centre for a fire pit that was overhung with skinned game, bodies pink, eyes white.
My head started to spin. The glint of Vereski’s eyes in the dark of stable—
‘Let her breathe,’ Fen’s laughing voice drew me back to the room, and I extricated myself from my Traveller brothers. They stood back as far as the enclosed space would allow, and almost instantly their cries of joy quelled into worried mutters. Fen came forward, his smile dropping, thick brows knotting.
‘Lil, you’re bleeding.’ His fingers came up to my face, and I brushed them lightly away.
‘It’s not mine,’ I said, more casually than I felt. I could not think on Vereski now, could not think of the blood, the moans, the feel of the sword as I hacked – no.
‘Fen, I need to speak with you.’
He came with me unhesitatingly, closing the door on the curious faces of our companions. The poor state of the door meant the attempt at privacy was almost useless, and so I gestured for him to move further off, into the night.
‘Is it Kizzy?’ he asked, voice tight with fear. He looked suddenly towards Orsha and Mira, noticing her for the first time. His body tensed, and I laid a hand on his arm.
‘It’s all right, she’s a friend.’
‘She’s a Settler.’
‘A friend,’ I repeated, and the two of them eyed each other a moment before Fen turned fully to me.
‘Where is Kisaiya?’
I didn’t know what was racing through his head, but though my news was not the worst he could fear, it would not be welcome. I couldn’t think of a way to soften it.
‘She’s been taken. By the boyar’s guest, Boyar Calazan.’
A muscle in his jaw twitched. ‘Where?’
I took a shaky breath. ‘North.’ He frowned, and I knew he was trying to re-orientate himself. ‘To the Voievod.’
‘The Dragon?’ His voice was hoarse, and he began to shake his head, his eyes squeezed shut. ‘It’s not possible.’
I set my hand on his arm again. I could feel his body coiled as the poor snake’s before it struck the cork. ‘Albu and Kem are there too. She’s been taken to be an ursar.’
‘Not a slave?’ I knew what he was thinking, what sort of slave he feared she’d be.
‘It was still against her will,’ I said. ‘But I’m going after her.’
‘With her?’ He looked up at Mira, who was scanning the road as the horse cropped the grassy banks of the fields.
‘No, I’ll go alone.’
‘It will be dangerous.’
‘No more than what I’m leaving behind.’ I looked towards the castle, hunched on its hill. I wanted to be away and moving, to leave it far behind for ever.
‘Then it will arouse suspicion, a woman alone,’ said Fen. ‘I’m coming too.’
I knew he would say this and had my riposte ready.
‘If you go, it makes our story less believable.’