by Sarah Dalton
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoff. The bird makes one loud caw noise and flaps its wings. It travels up into the sky, back to the branches. “Isn’t it a beautiful creature? Look at the grace with which it moves.”
“We should keep moving. We need to pick up the pace,” Cas says.
Reluctantly, I press my heels into Anta’s belly. “You’re being overdramatic.” I call out, but Cas has already trotted away with Gwen.
*
Later in the day, the sun cools, and the bronzed trees become a darker brown, dirty as mud. It could be my imagination, but every time I peek through the branches, those birds are a little closer to the ground.
I catch up to Cas so that we travel side by side.
“We should find somewhere to camp for the night,” I suggest. “It’s beginning to get dark.”
Cas raises his head to the birds in the trees. “Not with them watching us.”
“Are you frightened of birds?” I ask, the corners of my lips twitching in amusement.
Cas flashes me a stern look, one I can imagine him practicing on the servants. “Absolutely not—not normal birds, anyway. I’d swear on the gods that those things are supernatural.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know,” he replies. “They’re too quiet. Too still. It’s like they’re waiting for something.”
While I laugh off Cas’s words, a chill runs up my spine. He’s right about them being quiet, and they blend so well into the trees that you can hardly see them.
“Okay, we’ll keep moving for now,” I say. “There’s still some daylight yet.”
My legs and bum cheeks are crying out for recuperation, but I can tell from the rare frown on Cas’s face that he feels very strongly about this. So we carry on.
The sky darkens as we hurry through the woods, and clouds of black gather above our heads. When I lift my eyes to the tallest of the branches, I could swear that the clouds pulse like living things. Sometimes I look up and the shape of the clouds has changed in an odd, almost supernatural way, which fills me with cold dread. We keep moving at a trot with Cas up ahead. I don’t know where we’re going, but Cas’s anxiety about the birds seems to be rubbing off on me.
The trees thin out into a shorter and bulkier species, like compact pines but with less foliage. The evening temperature drops to so cold, it sends a shiver up my spine. Cas reins in Gwen and waits for me to catch up.
“Have you seen those clouds?” His voice is low and serious. “They don’t move like regular clouds. It’s like they’re made up of lots of different ones all moving together. And I’ve never seen anything so black in my life. Do you think it’s another one of the Waerg Wood’s tricks?”
“All I know is that we should hurry up and get out of here.” I hurry Anta on, and Cas does the same. This time we travel side by side, the two animals so close that my knees brush against Cas’s calf.
“You know what those clouds remind me of?” Cas says.
I shake my head.
“The feathers from that bird. Remember how dark it was?”
My stomach sinks. The blood drains from my face. “That’s what they are. The clouds are the birds from earlier. I saw them nesting in the top branches of the tree. Now they’re bundled up like clouds above us.”
Cas turns his head up to the sky. “Gods prevail, you’re right! What do they want from us? Why do they follow us?”
The cool night air brings with it the scent of damp earth. A drop of rain lands on the skin of my neck, and another on my nose. Within seconds, the rain pours down, cold and refreshing. But then, a few moments later, the atmosphere changes and fills me with utter dread.
It begins with an itch on the skin and then becomes a burn that spreads over my body, finding the half healed cuts from the vines. I cry out in pain. Cas rubs his face with his palms. The two animals shake their heads in panic. Anta bucks beneath me, almost dislodging me from the saddle.
“The rain—it’s coming from the birds,” I say. “Whatever it is, it’s burning us.” Steam rises from my tunic. “We need to get out of here.”
Gwen bolts forward into the forest with Anta hot on her heels. Anta is fast for a stag, but he’s no match for the horse. Soon enough we’re left far behind. I can’t even see Gwen’s chestnut flank anymore.
I grip Anta’s neck as he hurtles through the trees, running flat out. The forest whizzes past me in a brown blur, and overhead the birds stretch out like a gathering storm, putting us almost in complete darkness. The strange liquid burns my exposed skin, creating ugly red welts on my fingers until it’s almost impossible to grip the reins. In a desperate attempt to protect my face, I bury it into Anta’s fur.
Behind me the birds caw strangely as though they are communicating with each other. Finally, the rain stops, Anta slows down, and I turn back to see sunshine filtering through the trees.
“That was too easy,” I whisper, half to myself.
The woods are silent, and Cas is nowhere to be seen. Anta snorts, exhausted from the sprinting session.
“Easy, boy.” I pat his shoulder. “Take it easy now.” He slows to a walk as I examine the forest around us. There’s no sign of the birds, but they could be lurking somewhere, ready to strike at any moment.
We continue on in the quiet. Anta’s hooves thud against the thick, leafy floor. My clothes begin to dry out, and the scent of wet leaves drifts up from the ground. I hope that Cas has had the forethought to stop and wait for me along the path. If we get split up for the night, I worry that we’ll ever meet again. Is it possible that the crown prince of the realm will survive a night alone in the Waerg Woods? He hasn’t shown much survival knowledge so far. I’ve had to save his life twice now.
The longer we walk, the more unease spreads through my veins. The sun settles into dusk and still there is no Cas and no Gwen. Images flash through my mind: finding Gwen alone without Cas, finding Cas’s body and Gwen nowhere to be seen, finding both prince and horse murdered. My stomach twists.
It darkens quickly above, sending a chilling shiver along my arms. Beneath me, Anta moves in his usual rhythmic way, hooves plodding in a one, two, one, two, one, two. If I don’t find Cas soon, I will have to stop and camp for the night.
A caw sounds in the night, and I whip around. Anta’s body starts beneath me; he tenses and leaps forward. I hold onto the reins tight, the blood draining from my knuckles.
“The birds,” I whisper to myself. “If they send that burning water on us again…” I urge Anta on. He snorts and spooks at every shadow.
Another caw rings out, and Anta startles again, shaking his head up and down.
“Easy boy. Keep going forwards.” The last thing I need is to fall from Anta and hurt myself, especially with those damn birds everywhere. “Come on, Anta. Keep going. Keep us safe.”
I wrack my brain to think of ways I can use my craft. Perhaps I can control the birds like I can butterflies and glowbugs. Something tells me these creatures are different and not easily swayed by humans. Another caw makes me start, and I yank the reins so hard I jab Anta’s mouth. He darts forward again, his head up in the air so that his antlers are dangerously close to my face.
“Easy boy,” I say, louder this time. “Calm down, Anta.” I try to stroke his neck, but I have difficulty relaxing my clenched fists. “Those birds really frighten you, don’t they? Me too, Anta. Me too.”
This time there are three or four caws all at once, more coming after, and I hear the flapping of wings. This time I put my head down on Anta’s neck and give him the reins. He’s got better night vision than me, so I let him dart through the woods. Behind me I’m aware of the flapping of bulky wings and the caws approaching through the darkness. What the hell are these birds, and what do they want from me?
Anta shoots through the forest, tearing chunks of leaves and dirt with his hooves, dodging trees with only inches to spare. I grip onto him by weaving my fingers into his coat, trying desperately to remain seated. The birds are cl
ose. Feathers brush against my shoulders. Something sharp and pointed rips into the skin on my neck, and a warm trickle of blood works its way down to my collarbone. It pecked me.
Needle-like claws plunge into my shoulder. I lift my head and cry out, jerking my arm to try to get rid of the bird. Another tangles in my hair, and something squirts the burning water onto my arm. As I writhe in agony, another bird launches itself onto Anta’s flank. In a panic, he kicks out with his hind legs, bucking me so hard I lose the feet of my stirrups. I scream into the silence of the forest and fall to the right, one foot still stuck in the stirrup.
Stones, dirt, and leaves scrape and scratch my body as Anta runs away terrified, dragging me with him. Where my foot is caught in the stirrup, it is utter agony, and I can’t compose myself enough to rotate free. My face turns to the ground, and soil fills my mouth. The abrasive stones and dirt draw blood from my already sore skin. I don’t know how much more I can take. Finally the safety catch on my stirrup breaks, and my foot is free. Breath escapes my lungs as I’m left in the mud and Anta runs off into the forest. Before I can even think of lifting my battered, bruised, and injured body from the ground, a cloud of black feathers descend on me like a piece of raw meat for the taking.
My desperate screams echo through the forest. My burned and scratched body can’t fight back any longer, and that’s when I realise it was all part of their hunting plan. They picked us, followed us, and wore us down until we were powerless. As I lay there, the strength seeps from my muscles. My chest heaves as I wheeze out a pathetic breath. Seconds become hours, and in a desperate attempt, I shut my eyes to summon the craft, but nothing comes to me. Either panic or weakness has cut me off from my powers, and now I am helpless. I can only hope Anta got away, because their claws and beaks begin to tear into my flesh until my thoughts are of nothing but pain and anguish.
I don’t know how long it lasts. It could be seconds or it could be minutes. I’m vaguely aware of my body jerking and flapping. My arms are across my face, but my body is so numb that I can’t ascertain where any of my other limbs are. Ebony feathers flap and croaking caws deafen me.
Then, something bright and silver cuts through them in the moonlight. There’s a glimpse of sandy hair, and an arm loops around my body, pulling me close to a chest that smells like berries and musk. I fall limply into those arms. And then the darkness comes.
*
I wake to the pleasant humming of an unknown tune. When my senses come back, I realise there’s a dampness on my skin, and my body rests on something soft. For a moment I think that I’m back in the hut with my father humming as he prepares breakfast. Then everything comes flooding back, the woods, the vines, the birds… I flap my arms out in front of my face, waiting for them to attack again.
“Shh,” says a voice. “They’re gone. You’re safe now.”
Soft hands pin my arms back down to my sides, and I blink away the blurriness to see a head haloed in sandy blond. “Cas?”
“Who else would you find in the forest?” he says with a chuckle. “Actually, don’t answer that. We’ve had far too many surprises already.”
I try to sit up but he prevents me. “Where’s Anta? Where are we?”
“We’re in a clearing,” he says. “I carried you away from where the birds attacked us. They didn’t come any closer once I got past those trees. It’s weird how this forest works, like there are different sections to control certain creatures.”
“You didn’t answer my first question,” I insist. “Where is Anta?”
Cas’s eyes drop from mine, and a surge of panic rises in my chest like a solid lump.
“He ran away,” Cas says eventually. “I went to you first, and when I turned back, he was gone. But he’ll be all right, Mae. Like you said, he roams these woods on his own.”
I try to swallow that panicked lump back down but it is persistent. I hate to think of him all alone, especially when the Wanderers could be anywhere. I think about that arrow mark in his flesh the night Father died. Could it be that the Wanderers saw a quick opportunity in the middle of their real mission? Or did they also need Anta for whatever they had planned? The thought makes my stomach roil.
“We’ll get him back. But first you need to recuperate, and you need to drink some water.” He lifts the canteen to my lips. I take a tiny sip.
“Anta had most of our things,” I say. “Our camping gear, the majority of our food, some of our water.” I let out a heavy sigh.
“We’ll worry about all that in the morning,” Cas says. “It’s late and dark. You’re cut to shreds... I need to help you wash them.” His cheeks flush pink as he moves flaps of my clothing to reveal the cuts beneath. My muscles clench wherever he touches, and his fingers jerk away. “Sorry.”
I shake my head. “I’m just not used to being touched. When we lived in Halts-Walden, the others thought I was cursed because my mother came from the woods and died birthing me. Even when I was sick, the healers kept a wide berth.” I try to smile to make the situation less uncomfortable.
“Well, I think that is all a load of codswallop. If anyone around here is cursed, it’s probably me,” he says. “I’m the one who needs saving the most often.”
“But you saved me this time,” I point out.
A slow smile of pride moves across his face. “I suppose that’s true. I did save you.”
Cas gently moves his fingers back to the wounds, using a ripped piece of linen to soak up the blood. I wince at the pain, which makes me forget about being embarrassed, and soon I hardly even think of how odd it is for him to touch me. Soon I feel my eyelids getting heavier and heavier until I fall to sleep with Cas’s fingers trailing my cheek with a touch of water.
At first my dreams are peaceful. In them, I sit in a pleasant meadow with Cas next to me. There are no burns on my hands or cuts on my face. Instead, I have my hair tied back in a bow, and a white linen dress that comes to my knees. Cas wears a fine uniform, embroidered with gold thread on the pockets and shoulders. He passes me a grape and smiles at me in the same way he smiled at Ellen back in Halts-Walden.
Then the pastel blue sky becomes muddied with a huge black cloud. Rain falls from the sky—but it isn’t rain, it’s the burning water from the birds, and it melts the skin from Cas’s face, leaving a grotesque skull in its place. I scream so loudly it makes my ears ring.
Cas shakes me awake, and my fingers rush to feel the warmth and smoothness of his skin. He stares at me with his eyebrows creased together. There’s something about his concerned expression that causes my heart to skip a beat.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
I nod sheepishly and drop my hands from his face. “I’m fine.”
I shiver. We are low on blankets, and the night air is freezing cold. I realise that my teeth are chattering, and Cas’s hands are cold against my skin.
His eyes turn to the sky. “The wind has ice on its breath.” He bends down to gather wood.
Cas makes the fire as I shiver beneath our one thin blanket. I watch his fingers move deftly. I never expected the prince to be so capable, but here he is, looking after me.
In the distance, that terrible noise begins again, and another shiver runs down my spine. It’s the click-clack of our mysterious follower.
“There, can you feel the warmth?” Cas asks.
I nod, but I can’t stop the tremors running up and down my body. Cas frowns at me.
“You’re still cold, and so am I.” He stares at me thoughtfully. “There’s one thing that would warm us both up, but you’re not going to like it.”
He bends his knees and drops to the floor. Before I can protest, he gets underneath the blanket and wraps his arms around me.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I say.
“I’m warming us both up,” he replies. “Don’t be a prude! I’m not going to touch you or anything.”
“You’ve got your arm around me!”
“Well, you know what I mean. Now, relax and go to sleep,” he says.
My body is stiff with the shock of such contact. I’ve never been someone who hugs often, and no one but Father has ever hugged me. As the grotesque clicking continues, I actually find Cas’s warm arms and body a comfort. Before long, my mind begins to jumble up in that way it always does before sleep comes. For the first time, I think of my old home. My gut aches when I think that I will never be hugged by my father again. Somehow, Cas’s arms around me help to ease that ache.
Chapter Nine – The Wandering Girl
Cas is gone when I wake. I bolt upright, eyes roaming the surrounding forest in search for him but he is nowhere to be seen. My fingers plunge into the fire embers to find them cold and dead. Up above, the sun is high in the sky. I’ve sleep for too long. What were we thinking? Sleeping without either of us keeping a lookout? I let my guard down last night, and now the prince has disappeared. My stomach sinks.
“Oh, you’re awake!”
I whip my head around to the sound of the voice. Cas strides towards me, carrying fresh berries, with a freshly killed rabbit over his shoulder.
“I’ve brought breakfast,” he says cheerily. “You look better, well rested.”
“I slept for too long. Why didn’t you wake me?” I say. “We have Anta to find and Wanderers to hunt. They could be days ahead of us by now.”
“Then an hour is not going to make much difference, and Anta knows the forest.” He places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. There is strength in his touch. “Here, eat these.”
I examine the berries first. They look juicy and inviting, but I’m suspicious of everything and anything in the Waerg Woods. I place one on my lips and let the juice lie there for a few moments.
“We should check they aren’t poisonous,” I say. “We should wait awhile, see if our skin itches or swells.”
He nods as he sits and begins to skin the rabbit. I find myself looking away, my stomach roiling. “That’s sensible. How did you become so sensible so young?” He grins at me as his knife slides between flesh and meat, teasing me with mischievous eyes.