“I didn’t. That’s the point. They’ve gone.” Finn’s tone made it clear he thought he was talking to an idiot.
Deryn bit back her first reply. After all, if he was used to dealing with Nevin and Ross his attitude was understandable. “I know. But you must have found the remains somewhere.”
“Nope.”
“Then how do you know a bear got them?”
“Because they’re gone.”
“It could have been a mountain lion or wolves.”
“Nope. Like I keep telling you. They’re gone. Takes a damn bear to knock a hole in the fence. If it’d been wolves or lions, they’d’ve jumped over and eaten them. I’d have found what was left of my sheep in the field.”
Deryn felt that Finn was vastly overstating the strength of his enclosure, but it gave her something to work with. She looked around the pasture, trying to spot the break. “Where?”
“Where’s what?”
“Where’s the hole in the fence?”
“I’ve fixed it, haven’t I? I don’t want the rest of my sheep running off.”
Deryn sighed. Her task was not getting any easier. “Can you show me where it was?”
Finn stared at her for a while, as if considering the reasonableness of her request. “This way. Come on.”
The farmer led her to the corner of the paddock farthest from the farmhouse. At this point the pines were close enough to overhang the fence. The ground was also drier and harder, but the thick layer of pine needles ought to show tracks clearly enough. Under Finn’s critical glare, Deryn crouched and started to examine the area.
There was nothing, not even scuffs where Finn had made the repairs.
After five fruitless minutes she looked up at him. “Are you sure it was here?”
“Course I’m damned well sure.”
Unconvinced, Deryn studied the fence. Sure enough, a section had been repaired, but it was not as distinct as she would have expected. The newer branches were the same dark color as the rest. She stood and faced the farmer. “The new bit you did is wet.”
“So?”
“It hasn’t rained this morning.”
“I know that.”
“When did they get wet?”
“Yesterday.”
“You fixed the fence yesterday?”
“No. A bit before that.”
“A bit?”
“I couldn’t leave it open until you decided to show up.”
“I’ve come as soon as I got word.”
“Makes a nice change.”
The patronizing tone did nothing to soothe Deryn’s growing anger. She took a few seconds, in an attempt to stay calm. “When did the sheep go missing?”
Finn pouted at her, for the first time seeming less sure of himself. “Five days ago.”
“Five!”
“I had to wait until young Ailie was going into town for supplies to take the message.”
“All the tracks will have been washed away.”
“I didn’t know it was going to rain.”
“Like rain’s such a rare occurrence. What fucking use is there in calling me out now?”
Finn shrugged. “What fucking use is there in calling out the marshal’s men at any time?” He stomped away back to his farmhouse.
Deryn turned and walked in the opposite direction, giving him time to get well away and herself time to calm down. If she remained within knife-throwing range of the farmer, she could not guarantee her self-control.
The soothing influence of the wilds started to work on her. Trees rustled overhead, the boughs creaking in the breeze. A distant woodpecker hammered out staccato bursts. The air was heavy with moisture and rich with the scent the forest. Deryn stopped and rested her shoulder against a trunk.
Mainly out of habit, she scoured the ground for tracks. The dense forest had shielded the ground from the worst of the weather, but the only footmarks were human and a few sheep, no doubt from where Finn had rounded up his stray flock before mending the fence.
Deryn clenched her teeth, fighting back the fresh wave of anger. If Finn had made any attempt at an apology for wasting her time, Deryn would have done more—a rogue bear in the neighborhood ought to leave traces easy enough to spot—but she was not feeling the slightest degree of goodwill toward the farmer, especially considering that she had volunteered for the job largely to stop Nevin taking his cider.
Deryn turned her head and looked back at the farmhouse. Finn was safely out of sight. After a final cursory glance at the section of repaired fence, she went to reclaim Tia for the short ride back into Neupor.
A mile below Finn’s farm Deryn passed a junction where a side trail led off, climbing the hillside to the west. She remembered it from her way out. Now she reined Tia to a stop and followed the route with her eyes until it vanished into the forest. Her gaze continued to rise higher, over the ranks of green firs to the mountain above.
The last of the morning’s clouds had blown away, leaving a clear blue sky arching over Mount Pizgar. A long ridge ran down from the peak in the direction of Neupor, cut with a deep V midway along. The break was a likely looking pass, and the side trail appeared to be heading straight for it. If that was the case, the trail would surely join up with the main Neupor to Oakan road on the other side of the mountain.
Deryn smiled. Why not take the scenic route home? There was definitely nothing in Neupor worth rushing back for.
*
A forest fire had swept through the pass some years before. Deryn emerged into the area of open grassland it had left behind. All that remained of the previous tree cover were the black fingers of charred stumps, pointing at the sky. Young trees had sprouted, but they were still too low to cut off the light, or to restrict visibility. The tall grasses and clumps of wildflowers had taken over, for the while. Deryn slipped off Tia’s back and left the mare to graze. A small knoll to one side of the path provided a good vantage point to take in the scenery. The panoramic view had definitely been worth the detour.
Pine-covered mountains filled the skyline on all sides, fading into the purple distance. The air was so clear the white peaks looked as if they had been cut with a razor. A half mile ahead, the trail plunged back into the forest, descending the mountainside’s rolling contours to the broad valley below, filled with a patchwork of small farms. The road to Oakan was just discernible, cutting a straight line between the fields. Deryn felt as if she stood on top of the world, that she could reach out and touch the sky.
The view was reminiscent of that from her childhood home, in the mountains way to the south of Oakan. As the comparison struck her, she pursed her lips. Normally the memory was one she would work to dismiss immediately, but she now found more comfort than grief in the raw beauty of the scene. Had time taken the edge off the pain? The mountains and open spaces were where she belonged. This was the home of her heart, the only home she would ever have and the only home she needed.
A gentle breeze pushed ripples though the lush grass and dried the sweat on Deryn’s face. The day was turning out to be unseasonably warm, although a dark band of cloud lined the horizon. More rain was on the way, but it raised no immediate cause for concern. Hours would pass before it reached her.
After a second of thought, she strolled over to Tia and removed the saddle. Why not take a proper break? Tia deserved the rest. Deryn could use it as well. Her bunk at the marshal’s station was as comfortable as if the mattress had been stuffed with pebbles. Between that and Ross’s snoring, she had not been sleeping well.
Deryn returned to the knoll and lay down on the grass, using the saddle as a pillow. The sky was brilliant blue, with just the faintest wisps of high cirrus. The soft breeze carried the scent of grass and sagebrush. The chirp of crickets made a background to the trill from a songbird and the occasional snort from Tia.
Suddenly, Deryn heard footsteps. Someone was walking through the grass, coming in her direction. Nobody had been in sight when she lay down, and the open hillside offered no nearby
hiding place. How could anyone have reached her so quickly? It was not as if the person was racing toward her. The pace was the gentle, rhythmical swish of a slow stroll, with no suggestion of threat, yet something about the sound made Deryn’s heart pound in her chest. She jerked up, twisting onto her knees, while at the same time reaching for the knife in her boot.
Less than a dozen steps away, her mother was sauntering across the hillside. In her hand was a small log, like the one used for target practice back in Neupor. Deryn felt her mouth go dry and sweat break out on the back of her neck. However, her mother seemed totally unconcerned. She stopped by Deryn’s side, taking in the view, and then pushed the hair back from her forehead. The gesture was so familiar. Despite all the years that had passed, Deryn would have known it, would have recognized her mother, even if she had not seen her face.
“It’s nice here.”
The voice was the same as Deryn remembered. She tried to answer, but her mouth was too dry. The sound stuck in her throat and nothing but a dull croak came out. Still her mother seemed unconcerned. She settled on the grass beside Deryn and took her hand. The touch was warm and very solid. Deryn stared down. Her mother’s hand was so much larger than her own. Deryn’s fingers looked childlike by comparison—just as they had the last time she held her mother’s hand.
“Mom. I’ve missed you.” The words burst out, and with them came tears.
“We all have.”
What she said made no sense. Nothing made sense. “Mom, you…you were…you…”
“Hush. It’s all right.” Her mother’s smile faded. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to leave you.”
Deryn dashed the tears from her eyes. “Wasn’t your fault.”
“It wasn’t what I meant. But what I wanted to say to you was…” Her mother’s grasp tightened slightly. “Promise me that you won’t forget…”
“Forget what?”
Her mother turned her head away. “Oh, will you just look.”
“Mom, you were going to say something. What?”
“Look at them.”
Deryn faced the same way as her mother. Farther down the hillside, Cray was running through the grass, playing with Roana’s puppies. Her brother’s legs were still round with baby fat, but the boy he would become was starting to show through—the boy he would have become, had he lived long enough.
On a fallen tree to one side, Aunt Ninka was sitting beside her father. The pair were binding the fletchings on arrows, as Deryn had seen them do a thousand times. Her mother was now standing behind them, talking to Grandpa Jojo.
Deryn scrambled to her feet. “Mom. What were you going to say?”
Nobody looked at her, but her voice was not as strong as it had been, no more than a raw whisper.
And then Deryn saw the dark figures in the woods behind. Stealthily they emerged from cover, swords in hand, creeping forward. The figures blurred, changing from human to windigo with each step. Blades became claws. Helmets became fangs. A base rumble came from their throats, wild and inhuman. Yet Deryn’s relatives paid no attention. Her mother wrapped an arm around Ninka’s shoulder, laughing at a shared joke.
They can’t hear the windigos. They can’t see them. Deryn’s guts had turned to ice. She opened her mouth, but the air would not release from her lungs. The sound was no more than the mew of a newborn kitten. She tried to move, but her legs were at once leaden and rubbery—too heavy to lift, too weak to move. No. I can’t watch them die again. Howls from the advancing monsters rose ever louder, a deep, drumlike booming.
Deryn opened her eyes and bolted upright as the peal of thunder died away. A sudden gust of cold wind carried the scent of rain and lightning to her. The sun was hidden behind thick cloud, but Deryn did not need to see it to know that she had slept for hours. Daylight was reduced to an ominous early dusk.
The first splat of rain hit her cheek, no more than an isolated drop, but more was on the way. Deryn estimated she had less than a half hour before the deluge started in earnest. She would not get back to Neupor in time. She would be lucky to reach any sort of shelter. Deryn slapped her leg, furious with herself. She knew how to read the weather, and regardless of her tiredness, she should not have slept so soundly, and all to have such a stupid, maudlin dream. What on earth had gotten into her? You’re going soft—soft in the head.
Tia had not strayed far. Within minutes, Deryn had the saddle on and was making what speed she could down the hill. Once she left the fire-scarred region, the pines were tall and thick enough to touch above the trail. They would offer the most basic protection, but they also reduced the light further still. Deryn reined Tia back to a walk. They were going to get soaked. Nothing would be gained by galloping the whole way. All it would do was risk a broken leg for Tia or a broken neck for herself.
Thunder boomed again. This time closer. Tia skittered a dancing step to the side.
“Easy, girl.” Deryn patted the mare’s neck.
Even under the trees, the wind blew cold. Deryn let go of the reins to pull the cape from her pack.
The sky lit up. The blazing white was dazzling after the gloom. Immediately, the screech of thunder shattered the sky directly overhead. Tia took off, ears lying flat against her head. Deryn had to grab the saddle horn to stop herself falling. Her left foot slipped from the stirrup.
“Tia. Whoa. Easy, girl, easy.”
After a brief moment of struggle, Deryn steadied her balance and took hold of the reins. The effect was immediate. Tia’s headlong gallop slowed. Iron Wolves’ horses were well trained. Deryn was surprised that Tia had been spooked in the first place. It was out of character, but maybe the horse was picking up on her rider’s state of mind. Deryn was hardly her normal self either. She could not believe she had let the storm catch her out, or that she could have such a inane dream. The strain of putting up with Nevin was getting to her—it was the only explanation.
The end of the thunderclap rumbled away in the distance, softer than the thud of hooves. Tia’s ears lifted and her pace slowed still further, breaking from the gallop into a canter.
“Good girl.”
Deryn released the reins with one hand to stroke the horse’s neck. Abruptly, Tia’s shoulders dropped and vanished. Deryn saw a streak of sky between the trees, and then the saddle was no longer under her and the path was rushing closer. She hit the ground hard and kept rolling, finishing up in a ditch that ran beside the track. Everything inside her had been shaken up. Her knee and shoulder throbbed. Her cheek stung.
“Tia!”
To Deryn’s relief, her horse lurched up to her feet, although tottering slightly as if drunk and shaking her head. Deryn scrambled back up the track.
“Stupid animal.” She then threw her arm around Tia’s neck and buried her face in the shaggy mane. When she had sworn never to care about anyone again, she had not been including her horse.
Deryn had received no injuries worse than a few scrapes and bruises, a stinging that eased as her heartbeat returned to normal. Tia was also standing steadier on her legs. All four hooves were flat on the ground and looked to be carrying her weight. She batted her head against Deryn’s hip in a gesture of shamefaced apology.
Deryn crouched and ran her hands down Tia’s legs, to doubly reassure herself there were no breaks. Everything seemed fine, but when she got Tia to walk a few steps, the horse was obviously favoring her left front leg.
“You’ve gone and sprained it, haven’t you?”
The forest was not a good place to see out a storm, especially with an injured horse. What hope was there of finding shelter? In both directions, the path disappeared into the gloom, but through a gap in the tree cover, Deryn could see a sheer rock face overhanging the route, a quarter mile or so farther on. Was a cave really too much to ask for? Deryn grabbed Tia’s reins and led her on.
To Deryn’s disappointment, the next bend took them away from the cliff. She considered branching off from the path, but the way ahead was looking brighter. Another bend and they reac
hed the edge of the trees. Cultivated farmland stretched out before them, with a field of cut stalks to the left and a pasture on the right. The stocky shapes of cows were clustered by a barn in the gathering dusk. Either a fold in the mountainside had hidden this farm from the pass or Tia’s headlong flight had taken them farther down into the valley than Deryn had realized.
Rain was falling in a steady drizzle. Worse was on the way, but smoke rose from the chimney of the farmstead that nestled in a hollow nearby. Shelter and a warm fire. Now all Deryn had to hope was that the farmer would be better disposed than Finn. Slightly cleaner would be nice, but she did not want to be greedy in her wishes.
Dogs barked as Deryn entered the farmyard, announcing her arrival even before she had the chance to knock on the door.
“Who’s there?” The voice was female and not unduly hostile.
“My name’s Deryn. I’m working with the marshal’s men. I was on my way back to Neupor when my horse got lamed. I—”
The door was flung open. “You want to get inside before it starts raining for real.”
Deryn could not believe her luck. Not only hospitable and quick-thinking, but the farmer looked as if she had taken a bath some time during the previous month. “Thanks. But my horse—”
“Needs seeing to.” The woman called over her shoulder. “I’ll take them to the barn. Jed. Go get Alana. Make it sharp. The storm ain’t gonna hold off much longer.”
An assortment of animals were already occupying the barn, but the farmer—who introduced herself as Eldora—shunted them around to make space, while Deryn removed Tia’s saddle and harness. A couple of sheepdogs looked on with keen interest, as if they were taking notes in case they were one day called on to perform the tasks themselves. The building was well maintained and sturdy, and certainly no worse than any other she had seen in the district.
Deryn stroked Tia’s nose. “You’ll be fine here.”
“Nice horse.” Eldora nodded in approval, and rose still further in Deryn’s opinion.
“Thanks.”
The promised cloudburst arrived in a deafening drumming of rain on the roof. A scant three seconds later, another horse clopped into the barn, making it back just in time to save its riders a drenching. Deryn had caught a glimpse of the young man when he left. His overall resemblance to Eldora made it obvious they were related. Both had a compact build, dark skin, and a rectangular, square-jawed face.
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