And then the sound started, the rush and splash and spatter of the river, and Tabitha realised it was talking to her again, clearer than she had ever heard it before. Tabitha began to cry, for the river, and for her father, and for all the time that she had refused to think about him.
All the while, the river continued to shout at Tabitha. And it was telling her to get away, get out of the water, but she was too startled and panicked to pay it any attention, so for a while she just sat with the water in a roaring wall in front of her, too frightened to do anything but listen to it shout at her.
Then another shout came from behind her – and Tabitha realised it was a human voice this time, sharp with fear and confusion.
Lysander raced past her in a dark blur, rushing forward with his usual predatory precision. In one, fluid movement, he had unsheathed his black knives from his belt, and plunged them through the wall of water and into the horse behind it. The creature screamed, and it began changing. Tabitha stared in horror as it seemed to flicker between the body of a horse, then a man, then something more like the river itself, until black blood began pouring from it and it settled back to the shape of a horse. The screams intensified.
Sheathing the knives, Lysander grabbed Tabitha around her waist, heaved her onto his shoulder, and raced for the shore.
On contact with Lysander, Tabitha snapped properly awake, and her connection with the river was broken. The water poured down from where it had held back, and Tabitha heard Lysander choke as he struggled against the current caused by the force of the water. He made for river bank, not loosening his grip on Tabitha but continuing to strike out ineffectually against the current until they were washed ashore downstream. Lysander dragged Tabitha farther up the bank until they were well away from the water, and then dropped her roughly back down to the ground. He spun around, his knives out again; but there was no sign of the horse.
Lysander remained stationary for a few minutes, his breath slowing, until he finally turned back to Tabitha. He began placing his hands up and down her arms and then down her body, and she tried feebly to shrug him off, but he continued regardless.
“Nothing broken,” he said shakily, but he paused when he got to the leg which had been bitten.
Tabitha risked a look, and immediately began retching again. The skin on her leg was ripped apart, torn where the creature had been forced back by the retreating river water while its teeth had still been clamped around her leg. Tattered skin hung at the edges of bleeding lines. Tabitha had always been okay with the sight of blood, but somehow it made all the difference that this blood was hers...
Lysander had paled. He ripped a line of cloth from the base of his cloak, and then laid a gentle hand on Tabitha's cheek.
“This is going to hurt,” he said softly, and then Tabitha cried out as he tied the cloth tightly beneath her knee, just above where the rips began.
“Sorry,” he said hoarsely. “It doesn't look like you're losing too much blood, but I don't want to take the risk.”
With unsteady hands, he drew Tabitha to her feet.
“We need to get back to the camp. I've got some spirit in a flask there which we can use to clean out the wound.”
Tabitha did her best to ignore the wave of dizziness that overcame her, but she could barely speak, and so instead of responding she hung her head and retched again.
“Can you walk?” Lysander urged her gently.
Keeping her mouth clamped firmly shut to prevent herself from vomiting, Tabitha gave a small nod of the head. Clutching Lysander's arm in a firm grip and resolutely avoiding looking down at the ruined flesh on her leg, she took a tentative step forward. The bite stung painfully, and she winced. But it hurt no less when she stayed still, and she knew she would have to get back to the camp.
“Please,” she said to Lysander through gritted teeth, “quickly.”
Lysander gripped Tabitha's arm tightly, and nodded.
“If it gets too much, I'll carry you,” he said.
Tabitha nodded again. It was too much to argue.
“Ready?”
Tabitha looked him squarely in the eyes, and nodded once more.
Then Lysander was easing her forward into a stiff, swift walk, and Tabitha hobbled alongside him as best she could. She focused on the horizon ahead, the distant glow of the campfire just visible now that the sky was growing darker. She would have preferred simply to look at this and allow all other thoughts to drift away from her, but in an unhelpful effort which she assumed was intended to distract her from her leg, Lysander kept talking to her.
“What you did to the river was incredible,” he was murmuring to her. “I've never seen anything like it.”
Tabitha grimaced. Catching the look on her face, Lysander repeated himself.
“It was – it was incredible,” he insisted. “You made it... it was like it was listening to you somehow.”
Tabitha gave a slight shake of her head.
“I didn't do anything to it,” she said in a hoarse, quiet voice.
Lysander looked incredulously at her.
“Tabitha, I was there. I saw what you did.”
“You don't know what you saw. The river did that on its own, I'm sure of it.”
She didn't know why, but the suggestion that she had somehow been responsible for what had happened to the river made Tabitha feel very uncomfortable.
“I didn't do anything,” she whispered again.
“Of course you did,” Lysander said, mistaking her worry for concern that she hadn't been able to defend herself. “You kept that creature at bay until I arrived. If you hadn't, it would have been too late. You did exactly what you needed to do.”
“I'm telling you, I didn't,” Tabitha said again, a little snappily this time. “I didn't do anything.”
Lysander looked a bit surprised, but dropped the subject. Then she felt him go rigid beside her. They halted, and Tabitha gave him a sidelong look. His eyes were trained a little way ahead of them, where the three sprites were dawdling up to them, white-faced. She snapped her attention back to Lysander, who looked livid. She tightened her grip on his arm.
“Sister,” Ani greeted her, and it was the first time Tabitha had heard her sound really frightened. “You shouldn't have gone with the kelpie.”
“You shouldn't go with the kelpie,” Bellat said, wringing his hands out.
“Why did you go with it, sister?” Corida asked.
“And just how do you know what happened?” Lysander's voice was poisonous.
“We saw her,” Corida said, “we saw her get on its back.”
“And why didn't you help her?” Lysander said in a low hiss.
“She got on the kelpie's back,” Bellat said. “She got on its back. What would you do?”
“Lysander...” Tabitha tried to soothe him, running a hand over his arm, but he just pulled away from her.
“Why didn't you help her?” he asked again.
“We couldn't, we couldn't do anything!” Ani wailed, sidling up to Tabitha.
“You stay away from her,” Lysander said coldly, putting his hand to his knife again.
“Lysander!” Tabitha said.
He spun to look at her, and he was wide-eyed in disbelief.
“Tab,” he said, and she realised that it was the first time he had called her by the shortened version of her name. It pleased her, for some reason. “They saw what happened. And they didn't do anything about it.”
“But they said that they couldn't,” she said.
“You really think they couldn't do anything? Not cry for help? Or try to get you out of the water? They're water faeries, aren't they?”
At this, a more enraged look came into Lysander's eyes, and he spun back to the sprites again, who cowered away from him.
“In fact, who's to say they didn't summon this kelpie creature in the first place?”
“No, no, we wouldn't!” the sprites pleaded. “We wouldn't do anything to hurt our sister!”
They flung t
hemselves at Tabitha again, sobbing and clinging to her dripping clothes.
“The brook horse was different, sister,” they moaned, “just a little prank. But we wouldn't summon a kelpie – we wouldn't speak to it!”
Lysander snarled in frustration.
“Do you really believe this?”
Tabitha hesitated, looking down at the sprites clustered at her feet, who were weeping copiously now.
“I understand why you might think they're to blame...” she began slowly.
“Right,” Lysander said coldly. “Of course that's how it is.”
“Listen to me, Lysander,” Tabitha gabbled as quickly as she could, “it was an accident. It was – it was my own fault. I got on the horse's back. The sprites didn't do anything – they weren't even there.”
“Just like you didn't do anything to the river.”
“I didn't!”
“You know, you could have told me you had witch magic,” Lysander said hotly. “I know you must do now. You controlled the river, and you didn't use any words at all.”
“I told you,” Tabitha snapped, her pain and frustration coming to the fore, “I didn't do anything!”
“You know what?” Lysander's face was cold. “If you're so determined to befriend the fae, you stay with them. Share your river secrets with them. Let them be the ones to help you in future, and see what good it does you.”
With one last, furious look at the fae, Lysander turned on his heel and strode swiftly off into the night. As he disappeared into the darkness, Tabitha felt herself growing colder, panic setting in. The pain in her leg, which she had all but forgotten about as they'd argued, returned with a terrible burn. She longed to call after him, but she was too cross. And what would she say? He obviously didn't believe her anyway. But it was true what she'd told him; she hadn't felt any magic in herself. It was as if the water's own magic had come to help her.
So Tabitha just watched Lysander walk away, while wishing more than anything that he would stay.
23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The girl in the mountains woke to tears pouring down her face.
She put her hands to her cheeks in surprise. Yes – they were wet. She was – she was feeling sad. The girl was surprised; she didn't think she had anything left in her life to feel sad about. It was just an endless dark. But nonetheless, she was sure that those were tears rolling down her face, and she felt her heart clench painfully.
The girl wished she knew why.
24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Tabitha sat alone in the tent. She was trembling now. She'd found the flask of spirit Lysander had mentioned, but she was too afraid to pour it on her leg on her own. She suspected that it was going to hurt.
When she'd got back to the camp, Tabitha had looked in vain for any sign that Lysander had come back here; he had stormed off when the sprites had upset him so greatly after they'd heard the trees singing, and he'd returned then. The rabbits he had caught for them were still roasting over the fire, the tent was still just where she had left it standing before she'd gone foraging for mushrooms, and so Tabitha had barrelled into the tent in the hope that Lysander might be waiting for her. But he was not and, to her dismay, she noticed that his pack was gone. The sprites had looked in nervously after her, but she'd waved them away, trying not to let them see how tearful she was.
They had been ever so affectionate on the way back after Lysander had left, sitting up on her shoulders as she wept with the effort of hobbling painfully back to the camp and whispering small words of gratitude and encouragement. But a small part of her couldn't help wondering whether there was something in what Lysander had said. She thought again of what she had read in the Compendium... but it didn't match her experience at all... she trusted the sprites... and yet, why hadn't they helped her? She supposed the kelpie must have been very powerful...
Tabitha shuddered again at the memory and felt another wave of pain run through her leg. She knew that, ultimately, she no longer had a choice regarding who to trust. Lysander was gone, and the sprites were still here. And she was going to have to do something about her leg.
Not giving herself any time to talk herself out of it, Tabitha grabbed the flask of spirit from beside and poured it liberally over her leg. The pain was excruciating, and as a wave of dizziness swept over her Tabitha couldn't keep from crying out.
The sprites were back in an instant.
“What is it, Tab?”
Ani, ever the most affectionate of the three, came straight over to her, flinging her tiny arms around Tabitha's side.
“What have you put on it?” Bellat said less graciously, screwing up his nose. “It smells terrible, sister.”
“Lysander said it would help to clean it,” Tabitha panted, the dizziness slowly receding.
“We told you not to trust him.” Corida had remained by the entrance of the tent. He looked defiantly at Tabitha. “Even now he's gone, he still finds a way to hurt you, sister.”
“He said it would help,” Tabitha said again.
“Funny kind of help,” Corida said with narrowed eyes.
“Please,” Tabitha said, “I just need a moment to clean my leg up. Would you mind just giving me some time to myself?”
The feeling in her leg was unbearable.
“Are you hurt very badly, Tab?” Ani asked anxiously. “Will you be able to walk tomorrow?”
“I don't know,” Tabitha replied. “I think I'll have to wait and see whether I can walk in the morning.”
The three sprites exchanged a look at this.
“We hope your leg gets better quickly, sister,” Corida said, and beckoned for the other two to follow him out of the tent. “Come on, Tab told us to leave her.”
As soon as they had retreated Tabitha regretted asking them to leave. Her leg was so painful, and their chatter might have distracted her. But she had thought she wanted to be alone to reflect on Lysander's defection. She couldn't believe he was really gone.
Tabitha collapsed backwards, lying flat on her back on the hard ground. She knew enough from living with her grandmother, who was called on to address most of the injuries in her village, to know that she really ought to wrap something around her leg to keep the dirt out. And really she ought to do it now, when she could boil water on the fire and clean some material to bind it with. But she was too miserable to bother.
Left alone, Tabitha found it impossible to prevent her raging thoughts from swirling around her head. Thinking of her grandmother made her think uncomfortably again of what had happened to the river. Had she done it? Lysander had seemed so sure... but she had felt no more in control of that than she had done when her grandmother had rescued her from the river mermaid in her village. It had seemed so much like her grandmother had controlled the retreating waters when they had parted before her in the river, but then perhaps it hadn't been her grandmother after all. Perhaps what Tabitha had assumed about her grandmother, Lysander had assumed about her today.
Tabitha clenched her eyes shut. There were evidently many more things that her grandmother hadn't shared with her than she had realised. She hoped that she got the chance to speak to her grandmother again, to persuade her to answer some of the questions Tabitha had for her. Perhaps after she'd found the Iron City, Tabitha could return home and find out. If she even ever found this fabled city. She wished she'd asked Lysander about it when she'd had the chance, and regretted her own selfishness in delaying for want of learning some magic tricks.
Tabitha made herself sit up again and look at her leg. It was still a gruesome sight; but with bigger things to worry about, she thought that perhaps she could cope with an injured leg after all.
Hobbling back out of the tent, Tabitha caught her breath in the cold night air. She considered going down to the river for more water, but it frightened her still, and so she simply heated the remains of what was left at the camp and used that to clean up some more strips of cloth as best she could. She shivered, in spite
of the fire, and thought regretfully that unless she somehow managed to produce the magical fire that had so far eluded her, or the weather took a turn for the better, she probably wasn't even going to have a fire the next night, or any night after that.
Gloomily, Tabitha retreated back into the tent to bandage her leg. Setting the water-soaked bandages to one side, she retrieved A Compendium of Faerie and lay it out next to her. She was too tired to read it now, but she hoped that keeping it by her would encourage her to begin studying it more earnestly. Perhaps if she had done so already then she wouldn't have been so foolish as to mistake the kelpie for a brook horse.
It stung to put the cloths onto her leg, but Tabitha did it anyway. She didn't have much choice if she wanted the wounds to heal properly, and aside from that, it was helping with the rising panic she felt about what she ought to do next.
Tabitha tied the last cloth around the final incision in her leg, and allowed herself to fall back onto the ground. It was all she could do to keep from crying. She was surprised how miserable she felt that Lysander had gone – like something terrible had happened – something wrong. He was supposed to be here.
But she didn't know how to convince him to trust the sprites, even if he did come back again. He hadn't liked them from the outset, and it did feel as if he had been waiting for the first opportune moment to prove that his misgivings were founded on something more than a hunch. Tabitha did trust them, of course; but she had also seen how quick Mica and the other villagers had been to turn on her when the fae had appeared there. What if the same thing happened when she reached the Iron City, and she arrived with three sprites in tow? How could she ever convince the people there that some of these creatures were good?
The River Witch Page 18