Fen snorted. ‘How? We have one horse and a mule, and no furs.’
‘We have Dorsi’s fur. Dika would want us to have warmth. And we should gather some of the Iele mushrooms, the red kind – we can eat those. They will sustain us better than the usual sort. I am sure we can take whatever we need. We must take branches from the yew trees, make stakes for protection. Kizzy is there, Fen,’ I hurried on. ‘Or will be soon. She will be dancing for him. We must reach her before …’
A nameless horror gripped my throat, the same sensation I had felt when I saw their tongues, or veins, or whatever they were stretching between them. Like she was already linked to him.
‘Before what?’ Fen’s voice was harsh and taut. ‘Before what, Lil?’
‘Before she is lost to us,’ I said simply, though something inside my heart, something left there by Mamă, told me it may already be too late.
But still, I thought. Lay death to rest. Was it a threat? A plea?
I stood suddenly and took up Mamă’s axe again.
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘We don’t have much time.’
We rode hard from the place my mother died.
My mind buzzed, raw and open as a wound after my vision. I felt I knew what was around each corner before we took it, saw new places with old eyes. And always, beneath it all, was the mottled breath of Vereski, keeping pace with my heartbeat though I tried to bury it.
After a half-day’s gallop, I began to grow more confident that we were not being followed. Would the boyar care enough about two slaves and a kitchen girl to send men after them, especially so soon after the disgracing of his court by the Voievod’s man? And had Vereski’s murder been discovered?
Every time I thought of his touch on my skin, his beery breath on my cheek, my mind’s eye flashed to the bloody pulp I had made of him, the murderer he had made of me, and I had to press myself harder against Mira’s back to keep from falling.
My skin crawled to think of the punishment Malovski would inflict on Cook were the true events of the night uncovered. Even at a distance of miles, beneath the cover of trees, I thought I felt her gaze upon me, the vulpine baring of her teeth, pale make up cracking about scarlet lips, red as the thread connecting my sister to the Dragon. I wondered if Mira did too. She cast glances over her shoulder as often as me, sharp and searching.
I could not be sure how long our journey would take, and this uncertainty set my nerves on edge, but Fen seemed to have no such fears. The further we travelled, his joy at being back in the forest seemed to overwhelm even his worry for Kizzy. His guidance meant we found yew to make stakes like the vision showed me, and flint to strike fires, and a welling spring nestled in the crook of mossy larch roots. We ate berries and the nutty Iele mushrooms, and on the second night we formed a rabbit trap of moss-strewn twigs and got up a fire hot enough to roast the creature on. We slept beneath Dorsi’s pelt, huddled in a pile, and prayed for dry nights.
Mira slept poorly: I could see it in the hollowing circles beneath her eyes, the irritable way she accepted her morning handful of foraged food. The Settled were unused to the outdoors, to being amongst it in such a constant, unending way. Even I found the lack of a wagon roof over my head disconcerting. But her hand often sought mine in the night, and that comforted me. I wondered how I had ever slept without it there before, and felt its absence as soon as I woke.
Fen slept like a child, curled into my side. It made me ache for Kem in a way I had mostly been able to bury till now. I wondered where my brother was, if Kizzy had reached the castle yet and found him. There had been no sign of him in my dark telling.
I listened to the trees, hoped to hear Mamă on the wind. The Iele could be playful or cruel as they were wise, but all the whispers I heard were tree murmurs, comforting and cradling. The horse and mule slept close to us, and I knew they would be the first to scent trouble.
But when trouble came, it was on the fourth day, and in no form I could have anticipated.
It was our last dusk before passing into the Voievod’s territory, and we were readying to stop for the night. Our lives had settled into a sort of routine, rising early with the sun, riding past midday before eating a little, and then again until sunset. The Accursed Mountains towered to the east, and I was glad our path meant we could keep to the forests.
We were not foolish enough to try to navigate in the dark: that was the dominion of wolves, and we would be best not to intrude. We heard them hunting sometimes, their moon cry tingling across my skin, but never close enough to make the horses do more than start. Perhaps the Iele were offering us some protection since we ate their food.
We had paused to eat a handful of lingonberries, and to chew on dandelion roots for energy before we began the task of finding a clearing big enough to lie in for the night, when a noise came from around a bend in the road.
In this part of the country, tracks were little wider than our horses, snaking the same paths bears took to rivers. We always took care to make as much noise as possible, so the animals would know we were coming. But we had fallen silent over our meal, and when the horses started to side step, shaking their heads and whinnying, my first thought was that a bear must be close.
‘Do you hear that?’ said Fen.
I could hear branches snapping. I rose, taking up my axe, and saw Mira pull her yew stake from her waist. The best approach was to make ourselves big as possible, to look like foe, not food, and I took a wide stance.
The noise of breaking grew louder, like the bear was lumbering off the path, drunk on honey. I spread my feet, anchoring myself, readying a roar in my chest. But when a figure came hurrying round the corner, it was not a bear.
A man, running raggedly. His eyes were wide and wild, and in the growing dark I could see the glint of bared teeth. He looked deranged. I instinctively stepped back, out of his path, but Fen held up his hands in a gesture of peace.
‘Are you—’
‘Out of my way!’
The man barrelled straight into him, knocking him from his feet. Mira snarled and grasped at the man’s cloak. He smelt of animal sweat and blood and the snow cold of the high mountains.
‘What did you do that for?’ Mira hissed.
The man’s cloak tore in his urgency to escape, but his feet tangled and he fell into the dust beside Fen. Mira helped Fen to his feet as the man cast a hunted glance behind him, and continued dragging himself forward, attempting to rise to his feet. Mira went to grasp hold of him again, but I stayed her hand.
‘Let him go.’
I realised then that the breaking sounds had not ceased. This man was being pursued. As I opened my mouth to voice this to Mira and Fen, a shape, small as a child, rounded the bend. It was cloaked in a thick pelt of some kind, and scurried rather than ran, like a rat. I could see no part of its skin.
‘Oh Saints!’ cried the man, and the fear in his voice stilled my heart.
The pursuing shape drew closer and as it did, I saw that it was indeed just a child. I thought it looked wounded and held my axe up to the man, still dragging himself away. Fen caught him and pushed him back. ‘What is happening here?’
‘Let me past, let me through!’
The child was closing in, and I caught sight of long, dark, matted hair. It was a girl. As she approached the man kicked out. His boot connected with the poor thing, and she stumbled back. I caught sight of a small hand, reaching out, blood dripping through its fingers. Fen caught hold of the man again and forced him down, a knee in his back to subdue him.