Daughter of Lies and Ruin

by Jo Spurrier

‘Well, the hide of one,’ he said. ‘Stuffed and mounted, and so lifelike you can picture it taking flight.’

  Aleida snorted, and the tavern-keeper turned to her. ‘You think it’s a fake, miss?’

  ‘I’ve seen a few in my time,’ she said.

  ‘Perhaps you have, but this beast is real. I’d swear it on my mother’s grave, only she’d slap me ’cause she’s still alive. There’s a nest of them, you see, up in the mountains to the north, and a few of the local lads brought one down. We bought the hide off them, and Lord Belmont took the skull and mounted it in his great hall.’

  I turned to Aleida. ‘I want to see it.’

  ‘I still say it’s a fake.’

  ‘Well, I’ve never seen a fake griffin, either.’ I felt for my purse, tucked in a pocket under my skirts. I had money of my own, for the first time in my life, since Aleida had given me a share of the profit from the unguents and oils and tinctures we’d spent the summer making. ‘Are you coming or not?’

  There was a door in the painted wall, locked with a gleaming brass padlock. The tavern-keeper unlocked it with a key and led the way inside, an oil-lamp in his hand, and went around lighting candles for us.

  The darkness smelled like an old stable, but as the candles were lit, the dark shape in the centre of the room resolved itself.

  Aleida exhaled in a puff of breath. ‘Well I’ll be damned,’ she said. ‘That’s a real griffin!’

  It was the size of a small horse, posed on a rock sculpted from clay. The beast was so big that the huge yellow beak of the eagle Aleida had called down an hour or two ago seemed weak and fragile in comparison. Its scaled forefeet had dagger-sized talons, the spread of them larger than Maggie’s massive hooves. Its shoulders were powerful, sloped like a cat’s, and its wings . . . its wings were too big for the room. They’d been mounted mantled, half-spread, so I could only imagine how huge they must have been. Just one of them alone had to be as long as I was. And the eyes . . . well, the eyes were just glass, but they were yellow and gold and orange, fierce and full of cold hunger. Those must have cost a pretty penny, I thought.

  I walked around it, mouth agape, not caring that I looked like a fool

  ‘Where do they come from?’ I said.

  The tavern-keeper shifted his feet, about to speak, when he realised I wasn’t talking to him.

  ‘Somewhere else,’ Aleida said.

  ‘But where?’

  She shrugged in the dim light. ‘One of the realms.’

  ‘Like the one—’ I cut myself off, glancing at the innkeeper.

  Aleida made a gesture, and the man fell still. You never realise how much someone moves, even when they’re standing in one place, until they stop. He looked like a doll.

  ‘Go on,’ Aleida said.

  I shook myself. ‘Like the one I saw when Gyssha killed that warlock?’ I didn’t know much about the realms — I’d only had the briefest glimpse of the worlds that lay beyond this one, and what I had seen was the stuff of nightmares.

  ‘It’s different to that one. It’s windy, and full of high places.’

  ‘You’ve seen it?’

  She nodded. ‘Just once.’

  ‘How many are there? Realms, I mean.’

  ‘Hard to say. Several, at least.’

  ‘Several?’ I said. ‘Seriously, no one’s figured it out any better than that?’

  ‘It’s not that easy, Dee. Think of it like this: you’re in another world, opening a portal into ours. You could open it into the high mountains, or under the sea, or into a howling storm. Would you imagine all of those places are in the one world?’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I see what you mean. But how did they get here? Could they find their own way through?’

  ‘Possibly, if it was just one beast,’ Aleida said, coming closer to examine the hide. ‘But a whole clutch of them? No. Someone would have to have found them and pulled them through.’ She reached up to feel the feathers on the creature’s neck and shoulders, and raked her fingers through its tawny coat.

  I stared at her. ‘You mean a witch did it?’

  ‘Or a wizard, or warlock. Someone with power.’

  ‘Someone here?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  A short time later, we were back outside, tucking into two pies. They were very good.

  ‘But why?’ I said. ‘I mean, it can’t be easy, can it?’

  She snorted. ‘It’s not like popping down to town on market day, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Then why?’

  Aleida shrugged and took a swallow of ale. The innkeeper had brought us two tankards without being asked. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘It’s a bit of a laugh, isn’t it?’

  I just scowled at her.

  ‘No, Dee, really. Imagine it, you turn those things loose and hang around for a bit. Imagine the tales you’d hear at the market, in the tavern. People swearing blind that they’d seen it, others refusing to believe a word. The stories would spread, too, and no one would believe it, except for people like us, who’d say, “Well, maybe”. And if it was you who did it, you’d hear those tales, and you’d know, you’d know it was you who’d made it happen. And sooner or later, other folk with power would figure it out, and they’d tell others . . .’

  ‘So it’s just a prank,’ I said, unimpressed.

  She laughed. ‘Exactly. Like putting a horse on the balcony of a tall building. There’s no point, and it’s a lot of bother, but wouldn’t it be fun? Just imagine the look on their face when they see it!’

  ‘A horse on a balcony? Why would you do something like that?’

  ‘Oh come on, Dee, it would be hilarious!’

  ‘Please tell me you haven’t done that!’

  ‘Well, no. I always wanted to, but I didn’t have any friends with balconies. Actually, I didn’t have any friends, except Bennett, and if I did something like that to him, he’d just give me a look and tell me to get the beast down again . . . but you have to admit, Dee, it’d be worth it.’

  I took a slow sip from my tankard, thinking — not about the ridiculousness of horses and balconies, but what it must have been like roaming around the world as Gyssha Blackbone’s apprentice. ‘You must have been wretchedly lonely.’

  She gave me a sharp look, as though none too pleased with my sudden change of subject. But then she leaned forward, elbows on the table and chin in her hand. ‘You’re a kindly soul, aren’t you? I still don’t understand why you were brought to me. I can’t decide if I’m supposed to toughen you up or if you’re supposed to gentle me.’

  Her dark eyes seemed to bore into me, and after a few moments I had to look away. ‘You sure it’s not both?’

  ‘No.’ I could still feel her eyes upon me. ‘But you’ll have your work cut out for you if that’s the case. Yeah, it was lonely, I guess, but I grew up knowing I could only rely on myself. This whole thing, me and you, it’s kind of new to me. Don’t go expecting smooth sailing.’

  ‘If it’s new to you, how do you think I feel? I said, and she laughed as I chewed another mouthful of flaky pastry and tender chicken. It was still a novelty, this business of eating food I hadn’t made myself. ‘So,’ I said. ‘Do you think they’re still here? Whoever brought the beasts through?’

  She didn’t answer right away. She just leaned back on her stool, back straight and shoulders square. ‘Not in the village,’ she said after a moment. ‘I can’t feel anything nearby, except for the old abbey. There could be a hedge-witch lying low, but they wouldn’t be able to open a portal.’

  ‘But there’s power at the abbey?’ I said.

  ‘Well, it’s run by nuns, or so I hear, and they often have a touch of magic to them if they’re serious about their business.’

  That went some way towards explaining her worry about the abbey. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘There’s more reasons to become a nun than just being really committed to the art of god-bothering, Dee. These days it’s not that hard for a low-born woman to take up a craft or run a business in h
er own name, but noble-born ladies are still bound to the old ways. If you’re a sixteen-year-old girl of rank or money, and you don’t want to be married off with no choice in the matter, running off to a convent is your best bet. I tell you, Dee, don’t ever envy the noble-born. I’d rather be born to a whore a hundred times over than live one life as a princess. Once you’re in the convent, though, you’ve got nothing but time on your hands. Plenty of nuns have a touch of magic, these days.’

  I nodded, though in truth I wasn’t sure I understood what she was getting at. ‘All right. So if they do have power, what are they going to make of you?’

  She gave a wry, humourless smile, and raised her tankard. ‘Your guess is as good as mine, Dee. Might be wise to be ready for a fast retreat.’

  By the time we returned to the yard to find Maggie freshly shod and waiting at the hitching post, Aleida was hobbling. She caught me watching her from the corner of my eye, and glowered. ‘I know, I know,’ she muttered over the ringing of hammers. ‘Should have brought my staff. Here —’ She tossed me a little purse from her pocket. ‘Settle up, will you, and get her hitched. Time to go see the nuns.’ Then she heaved herself up the wagon’s steps and ducked inside.

  The same burly young man came to take our coin, and he helped me hitch Maggie between the shafts again. ‘She’s a fine lass,’ he said, patting her shoulder. ‘Safe journey, miss. Take care on the roads.’

  ‘We will,’ I said cheerily. ‘Good day.’

  I started to climb up to the seat when a commotion at the gates made me pause. Maggie lifted her head with a snort as the blacksmith looked up from his anvil and summoned his lads with a shout. The one who’d been helping me ran off to him at once.

  A team of men had appeared at the gates, all but dragging a wild-eyed horse into the yard. They had ropes on his head and around his neck, and another behind his haunches with two men to either side, forcing the beast forward step by step.

  ‘What in the blazes are you doing?’ the blacksmith demanded, though he threw himself in to grab a rope.

  ‘We need a hand with him, Hugh,’ shouted one of the men, his face red and dripping with sweat as the horse fought and plunged. ‘Can you and your lads help out? We were trying to throw him down and geld him but he went completely mad and got away from us. We only got him back because he tripped over his head-rope and went down hard just down the lane.’

  ‘Is this that wild one you caught out past Hobb’s place? That beast has a screw loose, I tell you. He’s not fit for anything but dog food.’

  The men were fighting for every step, while the horse pulled back with all he had, his neck and sides streaked with sweat. Something about the beast put me on edge — there was a desperation about his movements, as though he was fighting for his life. I’d seen untamed beasts aplenty, I was a farm girl after all, but this was beyond an animal fighting against the first touch of a rope. This horse was frantic.

  I gripped the edge of the seat to steady myself, and reached for the creature. This was the first lesson in witchcraft that Aleida had ever tried to teach me, the art of slipping into a beast’s head and borrowing it — it was how she’d brought the eagle down to drive off the bandits back in the forest.

  I slipped into his head, and at the first touch I felt my heart leap in echo of his racing pulse. A sick fear twisted my stomach and set me shivering like I’d been plunged into an ice-bath. That was all I managed before I lost my focus and fell away from him, finding myself back in my own body, swaying on my feet.

  There was a movement above me, a swish of black skirts as Aleida came to the doorway. Her face was blank, but she had that cold look in her eyes that meant she was thinking hard. ‘Aleida,’ I hissed. ‘Aleida! That . . . it’s not . . .’ It was hard to talk after borrowing, especially if you were as new to it as I was. ‘That’s not a horse.’

  ‘Mm,’ Aleida said, frowning down. ‘I know.’

  She made a small gesture and I felt her power rising, making my skin prickle.

  The horse’s halter snapped, and the rope around his neck parted and frayed, falling away. The horse staggered and nearly fell, and the men straining against him toppled like dominoes as the beast reared up, flailing his hooves. The men at his haunches took one glance at each other and scattered, throwing down their ropes. The horse wheeled and bolted, vanishing through the gates with a flash of hooves and a spray of sweat.

  Aleida sat on the seat and beckoned me with an imperious wave. ‘Up you hop, Dee,’ she said. ‘Time to go.’

  CHAPTER 2

  I was panting hard as we drove away from the blacksmith, clinging to the seat with shaking hands. My mind was racing, full of heart-stopping terror, like a beast caught in a trap.

  Aleida held the reins with one hand, but she paid no attention to Maggie as she plodded along the dusty road. Instead she was focused on me. ‘Breathe, Dee. Slowly.’

  ‘I, but, I—’

  ‘It’s just an echo, your mind’s playing tricks on you. Take a deep breath and hold it as long as you can.’

  ‘I can’t.’ I had to run, I had to escape, I had to get out of this trap and find somewhere safe. Only nowhere was safe, not anymore. That’s not true, I told myself. None of it’s true. But the sheer animal panic inside of me seemed to have a life of its own, and it wouldn’t be soothed.

  With a sigh, Aleida grabbed my chin in one hand and pulled my head around until my eyes met hers. At once, I felt as though she’d grabbed hold of me with magnetic force. I couldn’t look away, and I didn’t even want to.

  ‘Deep breaths,’ she said. ‘Like this.’ She took a deep, slow breath in, held it so long my head started swimming and my lungs began burning, and then let it out even slower. ‘Push the panic away. It’s not yours, you don’t have to hold on to it. Just breathe and let it go.’ We repeated the pattern a few more times, and then she released me, turning back to the road.

  The moment I was free my lungs wanted to start puffing and panting again, but I made myself follow the pattern: in, hold, out. ‘Thanks,’ I said, between breaths.

  ‘With better mental defences you’ll be able to keep your mind separate. It’s important when you do a lot of borrowing. That’s something you need to work on.’

  I nodded, feeling myself flush. ‘Sorry. That . . . that was mind control, wasn’t it? Making me copy your breathing like that?’

  ‘Yep. And how many times do I have to tell you to stop apologising? You’ve only been doing this for a few months, of course you’ve got a lot to learn.’

  I grimaced. ‘Sor—’ I choked the word off into a cough before I got it all out, and Aleida chuckled while I felt my cheeks flush red. Back home at Burswood Farm, before I came to Aleida, it had just been easier to apologise for everything, whether it was my fault or not. I’d end up getting blamed for it anyway. I hadn’t even realised what a habit it had become until Aleida lost her temper one day and threatened to bewitch me into never saying the word again. ‘All right then, I’ll just blame you for not teaching me better.’

  That got another laugh. ‘That’s the spirit. Never say sorry, never admit you’re wrong. Never show weakness, that’s what Gyssha always said.’

  I gave her a sidelong look. I was pretty sure she was joking about that. Well, not joking, exactly. It did sound like the sort of thing Gyssha Blackbone would have said.

  My heart had slowed now, my panic ebbing away, but I’d bet my eye teeth that somewhere out there that not-horse was still running. ‘Aleida?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘If it wasn’t a horse, what was it?’

  She was silent for a moment, gazing out past Maggie’s ears. ‘A man,’ she said at last.

  For a moment I thought I’d misheard her. Then I realised she was serious. ‘A man?’ I repeated. ‘Like, a person?’

  ‘Mm. That’s why you got so rattled trying to borrow him. You can’t borrow people like you can animals, we’re too similar.’

  I felt myself frowning, remembering what the men had said. If he
kept acting as wild as that, he’d end up butchered and fed to the pigs and dogs. ‘That poor soul,’ I said. ‘No wonder he was so terrified. But who did it to him? And why?’

  Aleida didn’t reply. We were nearing a crossroads now, and she shifted the reins to the right, turning Maggie towards the old abbey, its new front gate gleaming in the sun.

  ‘Wait,’ I said, hands tightening on the bench again. ‘We have to go after him! He needs help.’

  ‘We will,’ Aleida said in calm and measured tones. ‘Just not yet.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘But nothing. Take a look behind us, Dee.’

  When I hesitated she turned my way with a cool, measured gaze. ‘Go on.’

  I stood, balancing on the swaying footboard and clinging to the porch bracket, and peered around the wagon’s high wall.

  The men who’d brought the not-horse into the yard had trailed out after us, searching for their escapee. One of them seemed to be watching us while others scouted for hoof prints in the earth of the road. ‘Do you know what they’re saying?’ she said. ‘Strange that the rope should break, cursed strange. And the halter, too, just like it had been cut with a knife. Such a strange business. They’re wondering if we had something to do with him getting loose,’ she said, turning back to the road. ‘If we go haring off after him, they’ll know we did.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘People don’t like witches, Dee. We’re useful sometimes, maybe, but we can do things they don’t understand and can’t defend against. It scares people, and with damn good reason. Folk don’t hunt witches like they used to in the old days, but they’re not above raising a mob if they’re scared enough, and I don’t want to have to deal with that. We’ll see to our business here and then go after him once the excitement’s died down. Besides, he’s running like he’s got a pack of demons on his heels, we won’t be catching up with him in a hurry.’

  I couldn’t exactly argue with that. ‘All right, but you didn’t answer me. Who did it? Why?’

  ‘Dee . . .’ She gave me an exasperated look. ‘How in the hells would I know?’