Mairi was talking to Donnan who held the reins of Smoke. She wished they had not come. She didn’t want them to see this. Svelrik would find a way of killing her and she hated to think that Donnan and Mairi, as well as her father, would see them hold up her severed head or her pierced or butchered body. Go. Don’t watch, she thought, but Mairi and Donnan stayed, glancing furtively at one another.
Then she knew another friend was there. She sensed Tam before she saw him but a scurrying on the ground caught her eye and she saw that he was in the form of a rat. Seeing that something was tied around his body, she felt a stab of anxiety. He has the stones – and he’s so close to Svelrik. However, she wondered whether or not Svelrik could differentiate between his discernment of her using magic and his sense of a magical being’s presence. His attention was not drawn to Tam, although Meraud’s appeared to be, instead he was busy whispering something to the dark-haired man behind him, the one Kaetha had seen in Neul Carraig. The man’s face became grim as another guard handed him a bow and an arrow.
I hope he’s a good shot, she thought. Best that it’s quick.
He hesitated, the bow gripped in his hand. At the same moment, she felt a scratching at the stake, tiny vibrations going up through her hands. Singed but smooth fur met her fingers, followed by the sting of claws and the cold of metal and stone. Hoping all eyes would be on the archer, she grasped the copper bands holding the stones and Tam slipped away. She knew now that the others had a plan. But what was it? What must she do?
Tam? But his mind was guarded against hers as always. Donnan? She’d lost sight of him and couldn’t find his thoughts through the clamour of the minds of the crowd but Mairi was looking at her intently. She seemed so like her mother from this distance, in that cloak of woven grey, blue and green. Mairi? In desperating, she reached out with her Air magic, though she expected Mairi’s mind to block it as usual. However Mairi’s thoughts came rang through her mind, loud and distinct as firesong. Only then did she realise that the wall blocking Mairi’s mind from hers had been her own. A wall she had freed herself from when she was in that prison cell.
As Air magic curled through her mind, she was shocked by the sound of a man’s booming voice from Mairi’s memory. Damn you! You cursed her. Mairi’s only beloved sister. Her only family. She’s dead because of you! You deserve to hang and you will go to hell where you belong! She sensed an echo of a young Mairi’s fear, the vulnerability of a small child which lingered within her along with this memory of a witch’s hanging. The memory faded. Use your magic, Kaetha. Mairi’s thoughts were imploring, desperate. Do what Donnan said you could. Hide yourself from sight, then take yourself away from here! This thought was repeated over and over, Mairi locking eyes with Kaetha all the while. Kaetha nodded. Then Mairi put her hand to the hem of her cloak where it covered her hair. Now.
Kaetha understood and she was ready. As Svelrik shouted at the archer who finally nocked an arrow to the bowstring, Kaetha smiled at her would-be assassin and, clutching the stones, sank into the air. A gasp rose from the crowd. With Earth, she made the ropes fray and unravel. She pushed the fire away as she descended the pyre, followed by a tumble of charred wood. She knew her bare feet were raw and blistered from the heat but, in the rush of her escape, she hardly felt any pain.
Invisible, she wove through the crowd of shocked onlookers who were jostling about, trying to find where she had gone. The king was yelling commands, trying to be heard over the fearful exclamations of the crowd.
“There she is! There’s the witch!”
It was Donnan’s voice. He was holding her mother’s cloak in a bundle under his arm and pointing. She knew he was pointing at Mairi as she galloped downhill riding Smoke but, for a moment, she thought she was looking at herself. Mairi wore a red kirtle over a white smock just like hers, the back of it striped with dark, brownish red, as if she had been whipped too. Her hair streamed in the wind as she rode, hair that was now dark red, like her own. She gaped in shock, though she knew now was not the time to puzzle over it.
“After her!” called Svelrik to his men. “After her!” He ordered the man with the bow to shoot her but the arrow fell short of its mark, Mairi having already put much distance between herself and the citadel defences.
Quick Mairi. Quick! she thought, wondering where her stepmother would go. Surely Mairi had a plan for her own safety? As worried as she was for her, she knew that she had to focus on her own escape now and that of her father. In the furore, the guards restraining Aedan had let go of him. They were pushing back at those who tried to break through the crowd to see the mysterious empty pyre. Now was her chance. She dashed over to him, grabbed his arm, dragging him away, pushing out her Air magic – feeling air whipping around her, reaching across to him – and he disappeared, cloaked in her protection.
Come with me.
More armed men on horseback charged through the gatehouse. As they raced down the hill, the crowd herded after them, watching, blocking the way to the hillside path. There was no way she and her father could get through that way.
Damn! She turned to face the citadel again. The gatehouse was still open, the lowered drawbridge beckoning.
Not this way, thought Aedan as Kaetha led him over the moat.
I’m sorry, Pa, but it’s the only way. Trust me.
She paused beneath the portcullis, its spikes looming above her like a monster’s fangs. She looked once more at Svelrik. He mounted a horse which someone brought him. If he was going to pursue Mairi himself, he could easily kill her. I have to do something, she thought, and she reached out in the direction of the pyre. With a crash, the stake collapsed into the smouldering wood beneath it and a burst of fire billowed out towards Svelrik. His horse reared and threw him to the ground. Hoping her magic would look like an accident, she took her father into the gatehouse. One last look over her shoulder showed her the crowds swarming around Svelrik. For a heartbeat, she saw his burned face turned towards her.
Fearful that Svelrik had sensed her use of magic, glad she had at least temporarily incapacitated him and sorry for injuring the horse, she walked on, supporting her father as best she could, though they could manage little more than a slow walking pace. They crossed the precinct between the barracks and the stables.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to climb down that cliff, her father told her.
Kaetha looked across to that part of the clifftop. There are two guards there anyway.
Then where shall we go?
Don’t worry. I know a way.
Fortunately, the drawbridge over the inner moat had been lowered too as more men at arms were summoned from the keep. After a group crossed it, she led her father up and through the second gatehouse.
At least they won’t be expecting us to go this way, she told him.
They halted as servants scurried past, bewildered by what was going on. One came out of the great hall, leaving the door open behind him. She and Aedan snuck through it. A small entrance led to the old kitchen which she’d seen in her vision, the room which opened out onto the main part of the hall. There were no embers in the central hearth now though, only ash, and the place was empty. Most likely, everyone had rushed out to see what was going on at the hillside.
She took Aedan to the alcove and scanned the wall. Her fingertips felt out the edge of a stone that looked different from the others and, with some difficulty, she and Aedan prised it from the wall. They slipped away into the shadow of the hidden passageway, pulling the stone back again, as Morwena and Rhona had done before them.
THIRTY EIGHT
Through Earth and Water
Kaetha summoned a flame to hover before them but it sputtered feebly. Insects scurried across stone walls and then her flame went out.
“Is something wrong?” said Aedan.
“I don’t understand, I—” and then she realised. She was still clinging onto the Air stone’s magic and it was inhibiting her use of Fire. With no need for invisibility in the tunnel, she closed her eye
s and concentrated on letting go of that magic. As she released a long breath, a current of air swirled around her and she felt immediate relief. She had not realised how much invisibility had been draining her energy.
“That’s better,” she said when her new flame glowed steadily. She kept it small, feeling only the barest hum of magic from it, hoping that Svelrik would not be able to sense it. She tried not to think about his burned face, his cold eyes staring as if he could see her.
Her train of thought was broken when she almost slipped on something thin and smooth that rolled under her foot.
“What’s that?” Aedan asked.
She picked it up, holding it to the light. It was a candle, speckled with dirt and rock dust. “It was the candle my mother brought with her into the tunnel when she escaped with Princess Rhona,” she said, recalling the vision. “It must have gone out. They wouldn’t have been able to see a thing.”
“How can you know that?” asked Aedan.
As they journeyed deeper into the earth down the dark, twisting tunnel, she told him all about her discovery of the elemental stones and of Svelrik being in possession of one himself. She spoke of what she had seen when she had touched all four stones at once, not that she had any idea why it had happened.
A deep shadow fell ahead of them, a steep staircase of narrow steps. She shuddered at the thought of her mother and Rhona approaching them in the dark.
“So that stone of his,” said Aedan, “that’s what Tam wanted you to steal, though he said Merard had it.”
“Meraud,” she corrected. “Aye, I thought she did.” She frowned as she took a careful step down the stairs. “I don’t know what she’s doing with Svelrik. What game she’s playing. At least Svelrik’s motives are straightforward enough, or seem so anyway.”
“Complicated. That’s women for you,” said Aedan with a grin.
“I’d jab you in the ribs for that if you hadn’t been tortured for days.”
Aedan laughed.
“I should have gone with Tam,” she said after a pause. “Tried to get the stone. Let you escape with Donnan instead of being captured again because you were with me.”
“And if you had?” he said. “You might have found Meraud, discovered she didn’t have the stone, then been stuck in a cell for your trouble. You don’t think she would have helped you?”
“Probably not. But I chose not to even try. What if it was my only chance? And now, as dangerous as Svelrik was, he’s surely going to be so much worse. He feels threatened and now he’s bound to lash out.”
“At least he didn’t seize the other stones. Just think how much worse things would be then.”
“He’d be unstoppable.”
They continued a long while in silence, steps crumbling away into a serpentine slope, the stagnant air getting colder and colder.
“She will outride the guards won’t she?” she said. “Mairi will get away?”
“She’s a clever woman. She’ll have a plan.”
Kaetha bit her lip, knowing she should tell him about Mairi. But it was too hard.“I hope that she—”
Aedan pointed. “Look.”
Ahead of them was a vertical sliver of light. Before she could see the sea, she breathed in salty air.
“We made it, Pa!”
However, if she had expected the tunnel to lead to a cliff path which would take them along to Orach Bay, she was mistaken.
“Perhaps we’ve come at the wrong end of the tide,” said Aedan.
“We’re going to have to swim,” she said. “I can’t sense any Fuathan nearby. It should be safe.” However, the water surged beneath them, grey, angry and uninviting. A fluttering filled her stomach at the sight but it was her father’s expression that gave her the most alarm. “Do you think you can?”
“Perhaps you could use your magic? Make some sort of path in the rock?”
“I made that mistake before. That kind of magic would be too big. Too loud. He’d sense it. I think he even sensed me using invisibility.” Though he might have thought it was Gaoth, she considered.
Aedan masked his dismay as best he could. “Then we’ll swim. We can do it.”
Holding hands, they leapt into the shock of cold water. The force of the jump drove her down, she couldn’t tell how deep. In her mind, she was back at Longmachlag, waiting to die amidst the shipwrecks. Then she was in Braddon, Murdo forcing her head underwater. Panic flooded through her but she concentrated on moving her limbs, pushing herself higher and higher until she broke the surface of the water.
“Pa?” she called, looking around. A wave pushed her against the cliff face but she managed to kick herself away from it. “Pa?” She could see nothing but water. She felt as though her heart had stopped.
Then, at last, he emerged, gasping for breath, his face deathly pale, yet he somehow managed a smile.
“I’ve got you,” she said, pulling him with one hand as she swam.
Eventually, they reached the mouth of the River Eachburn at the edge of Orach Bay and clambered, panting, onto the shore.
As they rested, Kaetha drew on the sea’s energy to restore some of her strength. She felt sure that, if she used magic slowly and gently, it would be hard for Svelrik to detect it. After several failed attempts, she seemed to transfer a little energy into her father too. Though she guessed that he’d exaggerated how much stronger he felt. She also attempted to heal his cuts, bruises, burns and broken bones, her focus fumbling from one elemental stone to another. She sighed in frustration.
“Stop fretting about me.” Aedan gripped her hand. “Can you heal yourself at all?”
“It seems I don’t know how to use the stones for healing.”
His face darkened as he saw the extent of the wounds on her back. “Was that Sir Jarl?” he said with a frown.
“Svelrik.”
His face contorted with anger. “If you hadn’t come to save me—”
“Then I’d have lived my life with a pain infinitely worse. This I’ll heal from.” She tucked her head under his as he drew her close. “Pa, there’s something you should know. Mairi was with child.”
“Was?”
“She lost the baby.” Kaetha tried to keep her voice steady. “I’m so sorry.”
“I . . . I didn’t know that she—”
“Neither did I.”
They sat there for some time and Kaetha could feel from the spasmodic movements of his chest that he was crying, though he did so silently, holding her close all the while.
“We should be moving on from this place,” he said, after some time had passed.
Kaetha sniffed. “Aye. Let’s head to Gwyn’s home and work out where to go from there.”
“Can you keep us invisible that far?”
“I doubt it,” she said, “and I’m reluctant to use that kind of magic near the citadel unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“But then we’ll be seen,” said Aedan, “and dressed like this too, our injuries on display. Even people who don’t know of us will look on us with suspicion.”
“You’re right. We can’t go about dressed like this.” She inspected some lengths of seaweed beside them, then smiled at him.
He raised his eyebrows. “What exactly do you have in mind?”
She laughed at his alarmed expression. Then, with careful use of Fire, she dried the seaweed and, with Earth, she manipulated its form, flattening, softening, splitting and weaving until the weeds became like a patch of old cloth in her hand.
“You’re a wee bit incredible, you know that, Kit?”
She grinned. In time, they were both wearing long, dark hooded cloaks in a mottling of browns, rusty reds and dark greens. They walked along the river bank, Aedan putting a hand on Kaetha’s shoulder, wincing as he walked. Their progress was frustratingly slow.
A tabby cat dashed towards them then.
“Tam?” said Kaetha.
“A cat and a wolf?” said Aedan. “I know. I really shouldn’t be surprised anymore.”
&
nbsp; Tam glanced around cautiously before shifting into his human-like form. “You missed the rat earlier then,” he said. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Do you know where Mairi is?” asked Kaetha. “And Donnan?”
“If all went to plan, aye I do. She’ll have drawn Svelrik to the east of the city and I’m to take you to an inn called The Star in the western quarter. The innkeeper, Ewan Whyte, knows Alistair MacWallace. He has somewhere safe for us.”
“But how can we be sure—?” began Aedan but Tam had already transformed into a cat again.
“If Svelrik’s that far away, I think we can risk going about unseen,” said Kaetha. “It might be safer with all the Bluecaps in the city.”
Now hidden from sight, they followed Tam as he padded over the bridge towards the city. The city gate known as Bridge Gate was open but flanked by city guards who wore blue caps and matching cloaks. One of them gave the ground an odd look as they passed but, even if he saw their footsteps appear in the mud, he didn’t say anything. Perhaps he realised how strange it would make him sound to the other guard.
They threaded through a jumble of shoppers and street-sellers. She held tightly to Aedan’s arm as they followed Tam through a labyrinth of poky alleys and narrow streets, dodging dung heaps and suspicious looking puddles, careful not to bump into laundresses with their baskets of linen, edging around a group of men who almost blocked an alley as they gathered to gamble with dice.
Emerging onto a busier street, she almost bumped into one of Svelrik’s men clad in black and green. For a heart-stopping moment, he seemed to look into her eyes. It was the man who’d almost shot her with his arrow, the man she’d seen in Neul Carraig. She’d never seen eyes as blue as his. Stop it, she told herself, what a ridiculous time to be paying attention to someone’s eyes – and those of your almost-murderer for that matter. He brushed her arm as he walked on, calling another guard to follow him down the street.
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