by Peter Newman
Sa-at stood up. ‘You’re back!’
Tal crashed down in front of them, his arms full of clothes. ‘Yeah … Managed to grab some things … Got lost … Crowflies found me. Thought it was trying to kill me at first, then I realized it was guiding me back.’ He put down the bundle to pat the Birdkin on the head. ‘Thank you Cro—’
Crowflies’ white beak snapped the air, and Tal snatched his hand back.
That’s nice. My friends are becoming friends, thought Sa-at. Very slowly.
They dressed Rochant in new clothes, wrapping him in several layers. Everything was too big for his wasted frame, hanging oddly, and it wasn’t enough, he still shivered, so they put the things Tal had stolen for Sa-at over the top, puffing him out so that his head and feet seemed far too small. When they were done, Rochant flopped asleep, exhausted. He didn’t look any warmer. It was as if the cold had got inside him. Inside his bones.
‘We need to get Lord Rochant back to his castle,’ whispered Tal.
‘How do we get him up in the sky? He’s too big for Crowflies to carry.’
Tal chuckled. ‘You don’t need wings to go to a floating castle. There’s roads that go up there. Not sure we can drag him that far though.’ He rubbed his hands together for warmth. ‘What we need is a way to carry him. Like a cart or one of those big Dogkin, and don’t even think of asking me to go and steal one. I can’t and I won’t!’
‘We carried him before.’
‘But this is much further, and uphill. It’d take forever.’
No ideas came to them and Tal soon fell asleep, Rochant leaning on his shoulder. Even though they were wearing the same style of clothes, the two looked so different: Tal’s face was pale, the veins a soft blue against his neck, Rochant’s was dark, making the gold tattoo crisscrossing half of his face all the more striking. Though he could not say why, it brought him pleasure to see his friends resting against each other.
Crowflies came and went several times. The first trip brought Sa-at some scavenged meat, the second was heralded by the Birdkin’s squawks of concern.
‘Sa-aat!’
‘What is it?’
Crowflies tapped at his knuckle, and he pressed it into the Birdkin’s beak. The proboscis buried deep in its throat levered out, pressing just enough to slide beneath the skin. Sa-at closed his eyes. Sometimes, when they were connected this way, he saw the world as Crowflies saw it. This time, however, it was different. The forest seemed to move about him, and yet he knew he was standing still.
I’m flying!
But I’m not flying.
This isn’t me. This isn’t now. It’s the past. I’m seeing Crowflies’ thoughts. No. I’m seeing a memory.
Through its compound eyes, the forest was broken into tiny pieces, each a different window showing a slightly different vision. Shadows no longer matched the things that made them, the trees seemed to loom more, some openly hostile, others indifferent, still others shifting their branches, allowing easier progress.
A shape became visible, hulking, crimson-skinned, moving slowly, guiding himself by touch: Crunch! He was muttering to himself, a bitter, hateful monologue, and Sa-at knew he was the subject of the vitriol. Crowflies banked away and the memory took Sa-at all the way back to them. It was not a long flight. If they didn’t move soon, the last Red Brother would find them.
Crowflies broke contact, pinching the wound shut, and Sa-at opened his eyes again. Crunch did not just linger in his mind, his scent lingered on his palm, carried by the wind, a sharp and bloody tang. He quickly woke his friends and explained the situation. ‘We need to run!’
Tal dutifully sat up and put one of Rochant’s arms over his shoulder.
‘Wait,’ said Rochant. ‘Before we expend our energy, what is our plan?’
‘I told you: running.’
‘That isn’t a plan. Are we going to run to the Godroad? To Sagan? All the way to my castle? Is running even the best approach here?’
Sa-at just stared at him.
‘What do you know about your enemy?’
‘He’s scary.’
‘Good. What else?’
‘He’s … big?’ Rochant continued to watch him, patient. ‘He’s strong. He has sharp teeth. He’s angry.’
‘How angry?’
‘Very.’
‘Why?’
‘Because his brothers are dead.’
‘Good, continue.’
‘He has big ears that hear everything, but he’s blind and he can’t smell.’
‘Anything else?’
‘He’s good at hiding.’
‘So you have an enemy that is enraged, not thinking clearly, and desperate for revenge. He is strong, and knows that is his advantage. He will favour a direct approach, but he has limited abilities to find you and he is slower. This means he will need to rely on his stealth. He will likely try to get as close as he can before making his attack. If he can get his hands on you, he wins.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Sa-at, and his bottom lip began to tremble. It was all too easy to imagine. ‘My plan is to run.’
Tal gathered himself to stand again.
‘Wait,’ said Rochant. ‘What about you. What are your strengths? How can you fight back?’
‘I can’t! I’m too small and I don’t have any glowing glass, not like—’ He put a hand over his mouth. He’d been about to talk about the lady with the golden lips. ‘I don’t have anything he’s afraid of.’
‘Listing things you don’t have is a waste of time and energy. Forget them. Focus on what you do have.’
‘Well,’ he lowered his voice to whisper, ‘Crunch,’ then continued normally, ‘is alone and I have you and Tal and Crowflies and …’ He stood up. ‘I know what to do. Tal, you stay here and look after Rochant. I have to lead him away from here. If he hears you, he’ll eat you.’
‘Okay,’ said Tal. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to my friendly tree.’
Leaving the castle was a surprisingly brisk, mundane affair for Chandni. There was no fanfare, nothing to mark the moment. Most people were still eating breakfast as she was escorted to the main gates. It left her unsure of how to feel. There was a kind of dignity to this end, and though secret, it lent a quintessentially Sapphire shape to her life. Certainly, her mother would approve. But then again, her mother was dead and the only other family she knew was an aunt who she hadn’t seen since she was a girl.
Lord Rochant’s decision had been so swift, so immediate, that she had only the clothes she’d dressed in. No cloak to protect her from the elements, no walking shoes, no food, nothing. Then it occurred to her that dead women didn’t need to be warm or fed.
As she put the outer wall behind her and walked towards the Bridge of Friends and Fools, the guards stationed there saluted her. If they questioned her leaving, alone and unsuitably attired, they let none of it show on their faces. Silent and dignified, they passed each other with barely a glance. Like the true Sapphire we are.
She stepped out onto the bridge, resolutely refusing to look down. Through the slats it was possible to see the great chasm that yawned beneath Lord Rochant’s castle. Heights didn’t bother her particularly, but looking into that endless drop was like looking into despair, and she didn’t want to lose her composure, especially with people watching.
The wind caused only a slight sway in the bridge, and she quite enjoyed being in the open, surrounded by sky and little else. It puts things into perspective. She was like a tiny cloud, blowing briefly across a vast expanse … Then the bridge jolted under her feet to the sound, behind her, of five paws and two wheels.
Glider!
Varg!
Struck by happiness, then sadness, then guilt, Chandni stopped, not quite able to turn herself to face them.
The thundering noise drew closer until Glider’s three shadows fell over her and a long nose appeared by her shoulder. It sniffed delicately at her ear, like a very cold feather, and Chandni squealed.
‘Yes,
Glider, it’s me.’
The Dogkin took her shoulder in her mouth and gently spun her round. Three human eyes and one canine one looked at her like disappointed parents.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘You promised me, Chand,’ said Varg. ‘You gave your word.’
‘When I told Lord Rochant what I’d done, he commanded me to leave, immediately. I haven’t even been back to my room. It was all so sudden, I didn’t have time to think.’
‘I guess it’s different for you,’ Varg replied, his arms folded.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Forget it,’ he muttered.
‘I’ve apologized. What else do you want me to say?’
‘Nothing. I just … I wouldn’t have forgotten you, that’s all.’
She sighed and walked over. He was too high for her to reach, so she put a hand on his ankle instead. ‘It might be better if you do. Lord Rochant’s decree was final. I’m not coming back.’
‘We’ll come with you.’
‘Oh Varg, you don’t even know where I’m going.’
‘We don’t care, do we, Glider?’ Glider barked agreement. ‘It don’t matter if we’re in a castle or in some village somewhere, or just in the wagon! Don’t you get it, Chand? I want to be with you. That’s all I’ve wanted since we first met.’
‘When we first met, you told me to—’
‘Yeah,’ he said quickly, ‘but pretty soon after that, I got to caring for you.’
‘And I care for you too, you know that.’
He leaned down and plucked her off the bridge and put her down beside him on the front of the wagon. The warmth of his thigh was pleasant against hers. He wanted her, she could see it in his eyes, feel it in the way his hands moved naturally to rest on her arm and hip.
She kissed him. Because it might be the last chance she’d get. Because in that instant, doing anything else seemed like madness. On another day, Glider’s enthusiastic barking might have embarrassed her, but she did not care. Nobody could see them. And what if they could? It won’t matter soon either way.
With that thought, she pulled back, only to find Varg following after, drawn along with her lips. His eyes were closed, an expression of absolute peace on his face. After all this time, he is still adorable.
She stopped his advance with a finger. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘Bollocks. It was great. You should do it again.’
She felt the heat rise in her face. ‘That’s not what I meant.’ Her finger pressed on his lips to stop him from getting any closer. ‘Before we do anything … more, I need to tell you something.’ He sat back and looked at her. ‘We were wrong to hope, Varg. I’ve been sentenced to death.’
His eyes widened in horror. ‘What?’
‘I’ve been told to go into the Wild and sacrifice myself.’
‘Kill yourself? Alone?’
‘It’s an honour, actually.’ Somehow, telling Varg, it didn’t seem like such an honour any more. She dipped her eyes, feeling oddly ashamed. ‘Nobody will know, you see. So I’ll be remembered well. In his wisdom, Lord Rochant has saved me from a traitor’s death.’
‘He sounds like a fucking monster to me.’
‘Well …’ Some part of her started to automatically leap to his defence, but she suddenly felt too tired to argue. Varg didn’t seem tired at all.
‘Yeah, a right fucking monster. And after all you did for him! They’re all the same, these Deathless. They use us like a pair of fucking boots. Trample us into the shit and muck and then throw us away when we wear out. Well I say, fuck him. Why don’t you come and live with me? He’ll never know.’
‘But … I’d know.’
‘Fine. Then I’ll take you to the Wild myself.’
‘I can’t ask you to do that.’
‘You don’t have to.’
‘Varg, I …’
‘Come on, Glider, let’s go.’ Glider gave a sad bark and the wagon began to rumble forward again, the wheels thudding over the slats on the bridge. ‘We’re with you all the way, Chand.’
‘Even to the end?’
He put an arm around her and pulled her close. ‘Yeah.’
She nestled in. It felt safe and warm, and she could hear his heart thudding merrily in his chest. I’m happy, she thought, for the first time in so long, I’m happy. There were tears running down Varg’s cheeks. Hers too, she realized. It was very un-Sapphire, and it didn’t matter, not one little bit.
Sa-at ran through the forest, his coat of feathers rippling at his back, and Crowflies gliding at his shoulder. He brushed the trees as he passed them, tagging leaves with his hands, tapping trunks, leaving a swirl of noise in his wake.
Each knock echoed in the canopy, passed from one tree to another, each footfall rippled outwards. Sa-at knew that somewhere nearby, Crunch would hear those sounds, and would come for him.
He was counting on it.
He held on to what Rochant had told him. I am faster than him. I have eyes. I have friends. But it was hard. He couldn’t help think other things too: I am weaker. I am scared. I—
A stray root caught his foot and he stumbled, lost his balance, and fell. Momentum took him into a roll and back onto his feet. A few whirls of his arms and he was steady again, barely any time lost. After that, he stopped thinking and focused on where he was.
Without the others to slow him down, he soon reached a friendly looking tree – a marker of Murderkind’s territory – and put his back to it, panting while Crowflies settled on a nearby branch. He caught his breath quickly but his heart continued to beat as if he were still running. ‘Crowflies, go and tell Murderkind that I am ready to keep my promise.’
The Birdkin shuffled from one foot to the other. ‘Sa-aat.’
‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.’
Crowflies tilted its head, unconvinced.
‘Fly fast, my friend.’
The white beak bobbed once, and then it was gone in a flutter of wing beats, leaving Sa-at with only the friendly tree for company. He gave the trunk a hug, letting his finger trace the gnarled lines of its bark, and then he climbed quickly into the sanctuary of its upper branches.
I must be like Rochant, he thought. I must say one thing and feel another.
He began to hum the song Crowflies sung to him when he was tiny, the one his mother had once sung. Sa-at didn’t know how he knew this – he had no real memory of his mother beyond some vague sense of being held by her once – but he did. He tried to sound as happy as possible, repeating the song over and over, until the friendly tree began to rustle softly along with the tune.
It wasn’t long before the knuckle where his little finger used to be began to itch. Sa-at ignored it and continued humming. He tried to appear calm, reclining against the branches as if he didn’t have a care in the world, whilst at the same time stealing glances of the forest floor. There was no sign of Crunch, but he was close, Sa-at knew.
His heart hammered in his chest, and he was struck by the awful need to piss, to run, and to scream, all at the same time. But he kept humming the tune.
One moment, there was nobody, the next Crunch was there, as if he’d stepped through an invisible door. Parts of his face had been burned white from when Sa-at had hit him with the tanzanite, and others had puckered, no longer completely covering his teeth. ‘Happy are we? Happy up there in your nest, Birdspawn? Come down to me and I’ll make you sing a different song. A red song of screaming.’ The vertical slit of his mouth opened wide and he licked his ragged lips. ‘Hmm, yes, I’ll chew the notes from your bones.’
‘I’m not coming down,’ said Sa-at, and started to hum the song again.
Crunch roared and put his huge hands either side of the friendly tree. ‘I’ll shake you down! I’ll break you down! You don’t have wings to save you, just arms that flap and legs that snap.’ With a roar, the Red Brother shook the trunk. The tree made a terrible groaning noise, and a shower of old leaves came loose, to pat softly
against Crunch’s shoulders, arms and feet. It was all Sa-at could do not to tumble down after them.
When Crunch stopped, the world continued to rock back and forth for a few moments. Sa-at made sure he was well braced. ‘I’m still here.’
‘I’m just getting started!’
‘You won’t get me down.’
‘I will! I’ll get you down and grind you down. I’ll pop out your eyes and twist off your ears!’
‘You said that when Pits died. And when Eyesore died too.’
It turned out that Crunch was just getting started. He shook the friendly tree a second time, twice as long and twice as hard as the first. Sa-at clung to one of the thicker branches as his legs swung wildly back and forth. His teeth clacked together, and he bit the inside of his cheek by accident, hard enough to taste blood.
Somehow, he managed to hold on until Crunch stopped and doubled over, making ugly grunting noises.
The friendly tree’s distress continued to echo around them, masking the whisper of wings as Crowflies returned. The Birdkin had not come alone. Others just as black, with grey beaks, and the same compound eyes, took up positions in the neighbouring trees, plugging the spaces where shafts of sunslight peeked through. Crunch could not see the dimming of light, but he must have felt something, for he straightened.
‘What’s this? Do we have a sneaker in the shadows?’
‘I’m still here,’ said Sa-at quickly, leaning down so that he could poke the top of Crunch’s head.
‘Raargh!’ replied the giant. Sa-at had expected retaliation but he hadn’t expected it quite so fast, the black-nailed fingers of Crunch’s hand scraped painfully across his shin as he scrambled away. The Red Brother had marked him, but he didn’t stop to gloat. Instead, he grabbed a handful of the friendly tree’s upper branches and pulled, bending the trunk, and Sa-at, towards him.
Sa-at tried to pull his legs up but he was too late and one of Crunch’s grasping hands wrapped around his ankle.
‘Got you!’