by Malinda Lo
She removed her hands from her ears. They shrieked at her, their voices pounding into her head. “Stop it!” she cried.
“Taisin!” Con was calling her name. He was trying to stand up, but he could not move. Something was pinning him down.
“It’s all right,” Taisin said. “It’s all right.” And then she said to the circling ghosts: “I will listen to you.”
Instantly, the Wood disappeared; she plunged into a world of vivid color. Everything was richly green: the color of newly budded leaves, of luminescent moss, of every possible shade of pine needle. And then she was in the middle of the ocean, carried by warm currents, the water changing from sea green to midnight blue as she sank from the surface into the depths. She had fins; she was as slick as a porpoise. She broke into the air; she was on top of the tallest tree; she was the tree itself.
The images were confusing at first, until she finally understood that she was experiencing the lives of each of the ghosts speaking to her. These were not the lives of humans, and she knew with absolute certainty that they were not the lives of animals, either. These were fay, creatures who inhabited the trees and the rivers, the seas and the hills. They had lived lives that were full of wonder, and now their lives were over.
She was thrust into darkness. When she could see again, she was cold all over. She saw golden bars. She heard the dragging shuffle of someone pacing in a tiny cage. She had never wanted to be free so badly. She wanted to strike at the bars with her bare hands, but the metal cut her skin. Black blood dripped from the wounds in her side. Something had been torn out of her. She bent over, falling onto her knees, feeling the icy floor beneath her.
They had been wronged.
Taisin’s eyes flew open. She was still standing beside Tali’s grave. The night was not over. She gasped for air as if she had been underwater.
Con had moved; he was now standing directly in front of her. His hands gripped her shoulders.
“Taisin,” he said. “Taisin.”
“I’m here,” she whispered, dazed.
He loosened his grip on her just slightly. “Are you all right?”
She shuddered. “Yes.”
“Did you see something?”
She realized he had no idea what she had just experienced. “They’re ghosts,” she said.
A shiver ran down Con’s spine. He looked beyond Taisin, but there was nothing but darkness.
Taisin reached up and pulled his hands from her shoulders, holding them in hers. “It’s all right,” she said. She felt the energy of the ghosts dissipating. She had satisfied them for now, but ghosts always returned until their wrongs had been righted. She only hoped they would not return tonight.
“Is it safe here?” Con asked.
She almost laughed. “Safe? No. But we must stay. We must stay with Tali until dawn.” He began to pull away from her, but she did not let him go. “Sit here, right here, with me.”
And so they sat together until the dawn light came, pallid and gray, and they saw that the soil of Tali’s grave was newly rimed with frost.
Chapter XX
When Taisin and Con returned to camp, Shae had brewed strong black tea for them, and Kaede and Pol had already disassembled the tents. While they waited for the rice porridge to cook, Taisin told them what had happened the night before.
“Ghosts,” Pol muttered. “Just what we need.”
“There are many of them,” Taisin said. Her legs ached from sitting all night in the cold. “It’s still not safe for us out there. We have to stay together at all times.”
“Is that what took Tali?” Pol asked.
“I don’t know,” Taisin said. “Maybe. They were not happy spirits.”
Before they departed, Taisin had to release the space where they were camped back to the Wood. She retraced her steps around the perimeter of the camp three times, grinding the remaining powders into the forest floor. She felt the meridians of energy springing back like strings snapping into position; it made her skin feel red, chapped, as though she had been scoured by a dry wind.
The days that followed were gray and heavy, as if Tali’s death was a dark cloud surrounding them. They decided to set one of the packhorses free; Shae believed he would find his way back home to Jilin. They transferred the supplies to the wagon horse that Pol had been riding, and Pol rode Tali’s horse instead. On the mornings that Kaede found time for target practice, Pol pushed her harder than he had before. She understood why: The bow was a weapon, and without Tali, they were one guard less.
For Kaede, the one bright moment in each day came at the end, when Taisin wove the circle of protection around their camp. Every time Taisin put her hand on Kaede’s heart, warmth bloomed between them, pushing back the dark night just enough to give them room to breathe together. Kaede found herself waiting for Taisin’s touch all day, turning the memory of it over and over again in her mind as they rode through the wild Wood. Every night, she felt the link between them thickening, ripening: at first a slender shoot, and then a vine that curled around them, strengthening each day. She began to wonder if Taisin might feel it, too, but Taisin never said a word about what happened between them during the ritual.
Taisin was afraid to acknowledge it. From the very first time she performed the ritual, she had known that the connection between the two of them was different than what she felt with the others. As the days passed, she became gradually aware that Kaede knew it, too. The realization thrilled her, but it also raised the specter of her vision. It shook her to know that this ritual that should protect them all was also doing the one thing she wanted to avoid. And yet, part of her—a growing part of her—wanted only to nurture the delicate bloom between them.
Sometimes that desire would subside, and Taisin thought she might succeed in preventing her vision from happening, but then her feelings returned at the most unexpected moments. When Kaede brewed tea for everyone, she took care to hand a cup directly to Taisin. Their fingers brushed together against the hot metal, and the thread between them drew tight. Taisin turned away with studied casualness, trying to hide the rising color on her cheeks. She tried to remember that she did not want to fall in love with Kaede, but more and more, she forgot. She forgot to avoid lingering near Kaede when they paused to rest during the day. She forgot to put space between them when they sat by the campfire at night.
One morning Kaede awoke to discover—her head still full of the mustiness of sleep—that Taisin had curled up beside her in the tent they shared with Shae. The warmth of her body was comforting, for the dawn air was cool and slightly damp. As she turned onto her back, Taisin moved, too, burrowing her head into Kaede’s shoulder, and Kaede blinked her eyes open, feeling suddenly, acutely aware of Taisin breathing so close to her. And then Taisin shifted, stretching as she awoke, and her entire body slid against Kaede’s side. At first, still half asleep, Taisin levered herself up on one elbow and looked at her, and at that moment Kaede could have reached up and pulled her back down again—but then Taisin woke completely, and she blushed so deeply that the tips of her ears went pink.
She scooted away as quickly as she could, mumbling something apologetic, and almost tripped over Shae as she stumbled out of the tent.
Shae, who was just waking up, rubbed her face and muttered, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Kaede whispered, closing her eyes. Maybe if she didn’t get up right away, she could slide back into those delicious moments before Taisin awoke. Her whole body was tingling. What would she have done if Taisin hadn’t left so abruptly? She would have kissed her. Even with Shae right there beside them, she would have done it. The thought made her feel like fire had erupted over her skin.
She threw off the blankets. She needed to get out into the cold morning. She crawled out of the tent, ignoring Shae’s protests as she climbed over her.
Outside, her breath misted into the air; the whole camp was surrounded by fog. There was no sign of Taisin.
Con was stirring the fire. He looked up at
Kaede’s abrupt arrival. “Good morning.” His brows drew together. “Are you all right?”
“What? I’m fine.” She shoved her feet into boots, bending over to lace them as she asked, “Where did Pol and Taisin go?”
“To get more water.”
“Oh.”
Con grinned at her. “She’ll be back soon enough. Would you like a cup of tea?”
Kaede turned red. But she accepted the battered metal cup with as much dignity as she could.
Pol and Taisin took much longer than expected, and by the time they returned, Con, Shae, and Kaede were standing nervously beside the fire, staring down toward the river and thinking uneasy thoughts. “We were beginning to worry,” Con said, unable to hide his anxiety. Taisin set down the heavy water skin she was carrying, and her eyes flickered immediately to Kaede, who looked relieved to see her.
“I apologize,” Pol said, kneeling to pour water into the kettle. “I saw something, and I had to find out what it was. Taisin wouldn’t let me go alone.”
“What did you see?” Con asked.
“Something is following us,” Pol said.
“Something?” Shae repeated, eyeing the trees warily.
“Yes. I don’t know what it is. But it’s not human.”
Chapter XXI
On the third night after Pol’s announcement, their followers finally showed themselves. It had been drizzling all afternoon, and lighting the fire was an ordeal that put everyone in a bitter mood. They ate their supper in silence, huddled beneath oilskins as the rain dripped down, hissing, into the fire. They slumped over their food, tired and vulnerable. Even Pol, who had been so vigilant, did not notice that they were slowly being surrounded. It was Kaede who looked up after finishing her meal and saw the eyes in the dark. She stiffened just like a deer noticing he was being hunted.
“Pol,” Kaede said in a harsh whisper.
He looked around sharply. Several pairs of yellow eyes glowed in the dark, reflecting the light of the fire. Shae and Pol reached for their weapons at the same time, standing up to face the dark.
“What are they?” Taisin asked in a small voice.
“Wolves,” Pol said. “Will the circle of protection keep them away?”
“I don’t know,” Taisin said. “The circle is meant to keep out harmful magic, not—not wolves.”
“But it’s also meant to protect us,” Pol said. “Isn’t it?”
“Yes. We should stay within it while they’re out there.”
They sat up all night, looking out at the eyes looking in at them. Their initial fright turned inevitably to weariness, for the wolves did not seem to be interested in advancing. Kaede had the eerie suspicion that they were merely there to watch them, to assess their strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes one of them looked directly at her, and she was startled by how intelligent the gaze was.
As morning approached, the wolves began to melt away, and when dawn finally broke and there was light enough to see beyond their campfire, there was no sign of them. But all around the circle of protection that Taisin had woven were long paw prints in the rain-dampened ground, where the wolves had paced.
They had barely been in the saddle for an hour that morning when Kaede caught sight of the wolves running through the trees about fifty feet away, roughly paralleling the path. They stayed downwind of the horses, who had not yet noticed them. Pol, who was bringing up the rear, sped up briefly to ride alongside her. “Take this,” he said, handing her his bow and quiver.
“What about you?” Kaede said, slinging the quiver onto her back.
He drew out his sword. “I’ll need more mobility. You stay with Taisin.”
Kaede nodded, trying to ignore the fear that bubbled in her stomach as Pol dropped back again. The trail was so narrow that they were riding single file. Shae was first, followed by Con, who was leading one of the packhorses. Next came Taisin, also leading a packhorse, and then Kaede; Pol rode last, his sword resting on his thighs.
As the morning wore on, Kaede began to suspect that these wolves were not entirely ordinary. They were practically flaunting themselves now; every once in a while one of them would break away from the pack and come closer to the path, either to get a better look at them or to demonstrate how bold they were. Kaede counted at least a dozen wolves, though she could not be sure, for they blended into the mottled brown of the Wood as if their coats had been made for this purpose.
Being constantly on guard after a sleepless night was a good way to render one’s muscles stiff and clumsy, and that was the way Kaede felt when the wolves finally moved in. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but she knew she had not thought they would go after Pol first. He was clearly their strongest member, and he was riding Tali’s horse, a great black stallion trained for battle. When she heard his horse cry out, she was so startled that she almost dropped the bow. By the time she fumbled an arrow out of the quiver and twisted in Pol’s direction, he was already slashing his sword down at the wolves that had surrounded him in a ferocious, snarling wave, isolating him from Kaede and the others. One wolf sank his teeth into the horse’s neck, and another bit into Pol’s thigh, releasing a thick stream of red blood. He screamed, but he kept fighting, clinging to the back of his horse.
Kaede’s fingers trembled on the fletching of an arrow. The wolves’ brindled backs were a sea of matted fur and muscle between her and Pol. She knew that all those mornings in empty stable yards came down to this instant: the instinctual motion of hand to arrow to string—and release—and the arrow plowed into a wolf’s chest, knocking him down. Kaede’s blood pounded in her ears. There was no time to think; the wolves did not stop coming. She nocked another arrow, and another. Her nostrils filled with the beasts’ stench.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the packhorse tied to Con’s saddle tear free from his lead rope, fleeing into the trees. Two wolves sprinted after him, and he never had a chance. They brought him down as easily as they might bring down a much smaller deer, and they howled their victory.
Con’s stomach reeled as he watched the wolves tear into the packhorse; they had split into two mobs, one surrounding the horse, the other surrounding Pol. Kaede was trying to pick off the wolves around Pol, but she couldn’t shoot too close to him. Con’s fingers were sweaty on the hilt of his sword. Pol needed help.
“Stay with Taisin!” Con shouted at Shae, and doubled back through the trees parallel to the trail, heading toward Pol. As he approached the melee, a wolf charged him. Yellow teeth bared, she launched herself at Con’s horse, who reared and struck at her with his iron-shod hooves. Con’s own blade whistled in the air. He held on to his horse with his knees and slammed his sword into the wolf’s shoulder. The beast’s snarl turned into a whimper; Con ripped his weapon out and struck again, drops of hot blood stinging his hands. The creature collapsed, her rank scent filling the air. When Con looked up to find his next target, he saw two wolves yanking Pol from his horse onto the ground, and the guard’s body disappeared beneath the pack.
“Pol!” he screamed.
Taisin heard him, and she twisted in her saddle to see Con trying to fight his way closer to the fallen guard. Terror engulfed her. Kaede was shouting at her; she was raising the bow, and an arrow flew frighteningly close to Taisin, making her flinch. It lodged in the flank of a gray wolf scarcely twenty feet away. That was when she noticed more of the beasts emerging from the trees and loping almost casually in her direction.
She could feel them: They were all hunger and vicious need. They were meant for this—to hunt and to kill—and there was a frightening beauty in their sharp golden eyes and powerful jaws. It was the beauty of a creature fulfilling her exact purpose in the world, being the precise thing she had trained her whole life to be.
The moment the first wolf leapt at her, Taisin acted entirely out of instinct, driven by panic. She had never used her knowledge of magic as a weapon before, and she knew there were proscriptions against it. None of that mattered when faced with a slavering wolf.<
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She forced her way into the fields of energy around her, tearing out fistfuls of the power that lived in every plant and animal, and she flung it at the wolves, knocking them down like paper dolls.
It was as easy as plucking ripe fruit from a tree. She felt like she had been born to do this. Her entire body thrilled with the power running through her. All the meridians of energy that ran across the Great Wood buckled beneath her touch. And the wolves began to run from her, yelping in fear.
Kaede stared at Taisin in amazement as she slid down from her horse, striding off the path toward the wolves. She raised her arms, flinging something at them that Kaede could not see. Whatever it was, it struck them like great punches, and Kaede saw one wolf’s rib cage collapse, while another’s snout was smashed, blood arcing through the air.
Taisin’s eyes were shining, her hair coming loose. White light pulled at the ends until they swirled around her head in a black cloud. She looked like she was possessed by something as ferocious as the wolves themselves, and Kaede was chilled by the expression on her face. Taisin looked inhuman—powerful and frightening and hard as ice.
The wolves outside the radius of Taisin’s power lifted their heads, looking in her direction. They backed away with deep-throated growls. It was as if a lightning storm had settled over her, and they wanted no part of it.
As the wolves retreated, Shae left the path to ride back toward Con and Pol, her blade dark with blood from the wolves that had left the fallen packhorse to find new prey. She did not see the ones who ran silently out of the trees east of the trail, and within an eyeblink, dragged her off her horse.
Shae screamed as the wolf bit down on her ankle; she tried to kick at him. Her horse reared, but it only loosened her from her saddle. She slid awkwardly, one foot caught in the stirrup, one hand tangled in her reins, and she tried to drive her sword into the wolf who had bitten her. It glanced off his shoulder, and then she was on the ground, her free hand scrabbling in the slightly damp earth, her cheek scraping against the soil. The wolves, their saliva dripping from hungry jowls, came for her.