“Why?”
He shook his head. “My power was taken from me.”
“Taken?”
“And I cannot ask help of other Fiadhain. Whilst you freed me from the curse of imprisonment, much of my curse remains.” He sat so still on the rock that, for a moment, she was afraid that his coarse, flint coloured garments were, in fact, part of the rock and that he was slowly turning to stone again before her eyes. She noticed that his feet were bare and he wore no cloak, yet he didn’t appear to feel the cold. “Fiadhain cannot see me, hear me nor sense my presence. I’m cut off from my own kind. But at least I can still change form. She needed me to retain that power in order to trap me in rock. That skill might be useful to you. I could run ahead and scout, watch out for danger. As wolf or bear, I could scare away those who wish to harm you.”
“When you’re not far away scouting, that is,” said Kaetha. A mere ghost of a smile passed across Tam’s face but his eyes remained solemn, like deep pools in a cave. “Who did this to you?” she asked.
He lowered his voice to a whisper. “The Calliack.” He glared fiercely at her when he said the name and she had to remind herself that he was angry with the Calliack, not her. “She who rules over all Fiadhain.”
“Did she . . . give you those scars?”
A flash of repulsion contorted his features. “Never ask me about them.”
She was shocked into stillness. “I’m sorry.” She coughed nervously. “I’ve heard a little of her. Of the Calliack,” she said, hoping to ease back into the flow of conversation. “It’s said she hates humans and doesn’t want Fiadhain to have anything to do with us.”
“That is so.”
“Then why did she curse you so you would be cut off from your own kind but not from us?”
“I can only think that she couldn’t imagine a human would be able to harness the power that you did. She underestimates your kind. That day when I sensed your approach and felt the power in you, I thought I was dreaming. I felt hope - something I’d thought to be long dead in me but there it was. I thought, if anyone can help me, it’s you – someone chosen by Fire.”
“Some seem to think that to be chosen by Fire,” she wrapped her blanket more tightly around herself and glanced in the direction of her sleeping companions, “to have magic at all, that it’s something to fear.”
“You shouldn’t be afraid of yourself, Kaetha. There are too many other things in this world to fear.”
“Why did she do it? The Calliack.”
“She doesn’t like her authority to be challenged. But that’s a tale for another day. So, you will let me help you, insofar as I am able?”
She nodded. “We’ll be heading into Gledrae Forest. If you could look ahead and warn me of any dangers you find, that would—”
“Kaetha?” It was Mairi’s voice.
Kaetha spun around. Mairi hadn’t seen her yet. “You have to hide,” she whispered.
“What?”
“She fears magic and doesn’t know I have it. Please. Hide.”
“What are you doing over there?” said Mairi.
Seeing Mairi’s puzzled look, her heart rose to her throat. However, when she turned, expecting to see Tam, he was gone. Sitting on the rock, was a brown mouse. She laughed. “Just having a stretch,” she said to Mairi.
The stone cottages of Hawkwing came into view as they walked and Kaetha noticed what looked like a tree with most of its branches hacked off, standing in the green at the centre of the village. A bundle of fabric appeared to be draped over it, ragged edges caught up in the breeze.
“I wonder what they did – why they were hanged,” said Donnan.
It was only then that she realised that what she’d been straining to see was not a dead tree but a gallows and, hanging by a noose, was a body. Her insides swelling with queasiness, she turned away and didn’t look back.
“Local justice,” said Mairi. “It’s not the right way. They should take people to trial in the bigger towns. I don’t like the feeling that place gives me,” said Mairi. “Let’s not stop there.”
“But what about horses?” said Donnan. “You two can stay out of sight somewhere and I’ll go.”
“No,” said Mairi. “What if word has reached here of Macomrag’s search? Even if you got horses, you still might be followed and then they’d get to Kaetha.”
She was glad when Hawkwing was finally out of sight and they had reached the forest. A red squirrel raced ahead of them through the trees, turning once to look at Kaetha. So he’s a squirrel now, she thought, just stopping herself from laughing out loud.
They walked for hours, stopping briefly for bread and water. Mairi and Donnan walked on as Kaetha repacked her bag. She saw a small movement in the corner of her vision – a flick of a red tail. A moment later, a firm hand grabbed her arm. She stifled a gasp.
“Don’t do that,” she whispered, glaring at Tam. Donnan and Mairi were walking on, unaware of Tam’s presence.
“You’re almost at the road. If you reach it, you’ll encounter into two riders. I don’t think they’re the sort you want to take notice of this.” He pointed to the cut on her face.
She nodded. “Thank you.” Then Mairi turned and Kaetha shoved Tam, hiding him behind a tree.
“What are you doing?” Mairi asked.
“Nothing. I was just looking around. I recognise this part of the forest,” she lied. She walked on, vaguely aware of Tam’s form shrinking into that of a small creature. “We’re almost at the road. But I think we should walk parallel to it. Close enough so we don’t lose our way but not so close that we meet with other travellers.”
“Good idea,” said Mairi.
Donnan squinted at her. “How could you recognise this part of the forest? It looks just the same as all the rest.”
She pretended not to hear him. “Shh.” The riders were only a few yards away but they had plenty of cover in the trees. She stopped Donnan and Mairi, pointing to the two women on horseback.
A snatch of their conversation carried to where they were hiding. “Stop being so certain of everything. What if a witch’s curse can’t be cured?” They kept still until the women were out of sight.
Mairi sighed. “That was lucky.”
“Very.” Donnan looked at Kaetha, his brow furrowed.
That night, under a lean-to shelter, Kaetha curled up, wrapped in her blanket, thoughts of her father clinging to her waking mind. Have they hurt him? Are they feeding him? Is he scared? She pictured the hooded woman and anger gnawed at her. Why did you have to do what she wanted? What power did she have over you?
When she woke, she trembled in the cold breeze, as did the spindly twigs above her. She got up, rubbing her back where she’d slept against a tree root.
“But I heard you tossing and turning in the night,” Mairi was saying to Donnan. He turned his back on both of them and rolled up his blanket. “You can have barely slept and you’re sweating. You might have a fever.” Mairi went over to him and put her hand on his forehead but he shrugged her off, got up and stalked off through the trees.
“Where are you going?” called Kaetha but disappeared through the trees without answering.
Mairi looked taken aback. “That wasn’t like him.”
“You think he’s unwell?” she asked.
Mairi shrugged. “He’s not himself.”
They ate a little and readied themselves to set off again but, when Donnan returned, Kaetha wondered if they should. She could smell vomit even though he’d clearly made a good effort to clean himself up.
“Well, come on then,” he muttered, leading the way.
“Wait,” said Kaetha. “You’re clearly not well.”
“I’m fine.”
“I could make some healing tea from Cailean’s herbs, if I knew what ailed you.”
“Nothing ails me.” He didn’t even turn to face her. “Let’s just get moving.”
She was about to argue with him but Mairi put a hand on her arm.
“L
eave it for now,” said Mairi in a low voice. Donnan walked stiffly as if he was in pain and trying to conceal it.
“I don’t know whether to pity him or punch him,” Kaetha said. “Why doesn’t he let us help him?”
Mairi shook her head.
They followed alongside the road for hours, stopping only to replenish their water supply at a stream. The light was beginning to dim when Kaetha heard a thud behind her.
“Mairi!” she called, rushing over to her stepmother who lay sprawled on the ground. “Can you hear me? Open your eyes.” Eventually, Mairi blinked at Kaetha slowly and tried to get up again. “Wait. Don’t get up yet, just take some deep breaths.” She exchanged a worried look with Donnan. When Mairi seemed to have gathered her strength, they helped her to her feet. “Over there,” she said, jerking her head in the direction of a small clearing.
Oak branches stretched out over them, forming a ring with a window opening out onto the deepening blue sky above. They lowered Mairi onto a patch of dry leaves. “I don’t care what you say, Mairi, tonight we’re going to risk a fire.”
Mairi nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” said Kaetha. “You’re tired. We all are. We all need rest and warmth.”
Kaetha set aside some larger sticks and scooped leaves and twigs into a pile, striking flint against firesteel over them.
“The kindling’s not dry enough,” said Donnan.
“It’ll work,” she said. Comprehension dawned on Donnan’s face as she stretched out her hand over the kindling. She’d only ever summoned fire or sparks by accident before and was pretending to be more confident than she felt. But a thrill of energy bolted through her and heat snapped at her hand. She flinched then waved her hand and blew cool air onto her palm. Flames had taken hold of the kindling.
Donnan poured a little water on her hand. “You should be more careful,” he said.
“Mairi didn’t see,” she whispered.
“No,” he said, his voice low, “I meant you should try not to burn yourself.” He positioned sticks over the kindling, keeping his eyes on his task. “What is it you’re hiding, Kit? How did you really know we were nearing the road?”
She glanced at Mairi. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I can tell when you’re lying.”
She said nothing.
“Fine.” He got up. “Right,” he said, speaking to both Kaetha and Mairi. “I’m going to set some rabbit snares before it gets too dark.” He took his knife and the ball of string and wandered off through the trees.
“Don’t go far.” Mairi came over to the fire and started warming her hands. “What can I do?”
“You can get warm and rest.”
Kaetha poured water in the pot and set it on a log so that most of it was in the flames, adding health-giving bay leaves and motherwort, mint for refreshment and a sprig of lavender to soothe. When the tea was brewed, she poured some in a bowl and handed it to Mairi. “Drink up,” she said as she poured the rest into a waterskin, determined to get Donnan to drink some upon his return. Then she set about making porridge.
Three bowls were filled and steaming but Donnan still hadn’t returned. Mairi was gazing into the fire but, for all the golden glow on her face, there was a shadow there that no light could cast out. Kaetha understood. She felt it too.
“We’ll see him again, Mairi,” said Kaetha. “I believe that.” Mairi said nothing; she just sat, twisting the silver band on her ring finger. Hoping that her stepmother wasn’t giving in to despair, Kaetha tried to hear her thoughts but, as had happened before, she felt as though her magic pushed against an unyielding wall. Mairi’s mind was divided from hers. “Did you know I have an aunt in Feodail?” she said, surprised at her sudden certainty that she would go back to her old home. Her anger towards Lady Gwyn was still wound as tight as rope but she realised they would probably need her, or at least the hall’s proximity to the citadel of Ciadrath, and Mairi would benefit now with a plan to focus on.
“An aunt?”
“My mother’s sister.” Realising that her hands had become fists, she stretched out her fingers and laid her hands on her lap.
“You’ve never spoken of her,” said Mairi. “Neither did Aedan.”
“She may not be our favourite person in the world but she would take us in if we needed her help.”
Mairi nodded, quiet, thinking.
“Eat,” said Kaetha. “You’ll need your strength. Don’t wait for me, I’m just going to check on Donnan.” Mairi seemed almost childlike in the way she looked up at her, her eyes big and round. “I’ll be back very soon.”
There was a snap of twigs behind her and Donnan looked past Kaetha, his expression registering alarm.
“It’s alright,” she said, resigning herself to explaining about Tam coming with them and persuading Donnan not to tell Mairi about him. “It’s just—” The name ‘Tam’ faded from her tongue. Tam was not there. Instead there were two men and a young woman. Kaetha edged backwards. One man was scrawny, his ropey neck telling of older age, yet he must have been strong as he wielded a huge axe. Another stood behind and, despite wearing the robes of a monk, he also brandished a weapon, a long, jagged knife. The young woman bared her teeth like an animal, a knife in one hand, a hammer in the other.
“What do you want?” said Kaetha.
“Money. Food. Weapons. Let’s see what you got.” The skinny man pointed at her with his axe. “That your camp over there?”
“No!” Kaetha cried, her heart pummelling against her ribcage. The man laughed as she and Donnan raced back to Mairi, standing between her and the approaching thieves.
“The bags, lass.” He glanced at the young woman, motioning towards the pile of bags near the fire.
“Aye, Pa,” she said, sauntering over to Donnan. “Put that knife down, laddie.” Donnan did not. Then, with one swift motion, the knife fell to the ground and Donnan clutched his hand with a groan. Kaetha only realised when the woman stepped back that she’d hit him with her hammer.
Mairi dropped her own knife and handed one of the bags to her. “Just take what you want and go.”
“That’s a pretty bit of silver,” the woman said, gripping Mairi’s wrist.
“No – please. That’s my wedding ring.”
“Not anymore.” The young woman pulled the ring off Mairi’s finger and put it on her own, threw Mairi’s bag to the monk-thief and picked up another as well as the dropped knives. “Come on Pa, let’s go,” she said to the man with the axe.
“But what if they talk – to Laird Lennox up at Doocot Hall, or Thane Macomrag even?” said the young woman’s father. He turned to the monk. “Or Bishop Alpin? We might be caught and hanged or, worse, lose our hands and starve slowly. No. Better to kill them. Make a clean job of it.”
“No, Hectar,” said the monk, raising a trembling hand. “Listen—”
“And now you’ve gone and told them my name. No choice now.” He licked the corner of his lips.
“No!” yelled Kaetha as Hectar and his daughter stalked towards them. Cold fear crawled over her skin but her racing heart burned. As sunlight glinted on Hectar’s axe and his daughter’s knife and hammer, Kaetha thrust out her hands defensively. In that same moment, the woman shrieked, dropping her weapons and hitting at her cloak, flames blossoming beneath her furiously working hands. She called for help but her father stood dumbstruck beside her. Fumbling with the clasp, she threw off her cloak before the flames devoured it entirely. She stood there panting, the colour returning to her face as she glared at Kaetha, teeth bared once more.
Mairi stared at Kaetha with the same expression of shock as when she’d seen the thieves approach.
Kaetha had felt her magic stirring within her but hadn’t intended to release it. “I didn’t mean—” she began.
“Fire magic.” Hectar smiled, his head tilted as he ran his eyes over her. “Small of stature, red-brown hair, travelling in a small group.”
“The Mistress said
a group of five,” said the monk-thief.
“Then, whoever you’re looking for, you have the wrong person,” said Donnan, still clutching his injured hand. “There are only three of us. There’s never been more than us three travelling together.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s this one the mistress wants,” he said, pointing his axe at Kaetha. “I’m sure of it.”
“So,” ventured the monk, “no need for bloodshed then.”
“She’s not ours to kill,” snapped Hectar. “I’m not stupid. But Mistress never said she should be unharmed.” He looked hungrily at Donnan and Mairi. Kaetha was strangled with fear. She didn’t need to read the thief’s mind. “And she never said anything about not killing the others.”
TWENTY
Truths Revealed
Hectar pointed his axe at Mairi, poised like a snake ready to bite. Defying her instinct of self-preservation, Kaetha stepped towards him.
“Careful, Pa,” said the woman, her eyes locked on Kaetha, “you don’t know what she could do.”
“I’ll go with you,” Kaetha said. “If you swear not to harm them.”
“Interesting offer,” said Hectar. “Test the sharpness of your blade, Glenna. When did you last cut off a hand?” His gaze travelled up and down Mairi. Kaetha scanned the clearing, hoping the monk would try to stop them but he had disappeared.
“It’s been a while,” Hectar’s daughter Glenna said, a smile curling her lip.
“Stop!” Kaetha held up her hands to attack. But no Fire came. Hectar smiled as she ran to put herself between Glenna and Donnan.
“Where’s your magic now?” he laughed. “I thought as much. Mistress was right, she can’t control it. She’s no real threat to us. She’ll come without a fight.”
“She won’t.”
Kaetha’s heart lifted at the sound of Tam’s voice.
Chosen by Fire Page 16