Raven Flight

  “Should be safe to talk now.”

  My skin prickled. I did not dare turn around.

  “Neryn. They’re gone.” And after a moment, “Neryn?”

  I turned. She was still in the same position, on the ground, hugging her knees, watching me. Her face was a pale oval in the dimness of the forest shadows; her dark eyes were sharply aware. Around her neck the ravens flew their steady course, strong and true.

  “Tali?” It came out as a shuddering sob.

  Her eyes widened in shocked realization. “You didn’t—you can’t have—oh, Neryn!”

  I put my hands over my face. A moment later, I felt her strong arms around me, and the warmth of her against me.

  “Black Crow save us,” she muttered. “You thought it was real. All this time, you— By all that’s holy, Neryn! How could you believe for a moment that Flint would do that?”

  I couldn’t speak. She held me as I wept; as I tried to reshape everything that had happened since they first brought their captive out before that crowd. After a while she released me and stepped away. She cleared her throat.

  “I hope you brought my spare clothes,” she said, kneeling to look in the bag. “The sooner I get this wretched thing off the better. Oh, good.” She drew out her neatly folded trousers, her tunic, her shirt. “Take a few deep breaths, Neryn. Sit down and drink some water. We must move on quickly. That other fellow seemed mild enough, but he’s an Enforcer, and no Enforcer can be trusted. Who’s to say someone may not have a change of heart and come after us, thinking it might be tidier to finish us off and get rid of the evidence?”

  “How did you—” I choked on the words, then tried again. “That was so real. It was just like—I never for a moment—Flint didn’t know you were there until they brought you out, did he? How could you know what to do? And how could he fake it with the other Enthrallers there?”

  She had stripped off the torn shift and was getting into her own clothing. Even in the near darkness I could see the bruises on her pale skin, the marks of a savage beating. “I guessed what he’d do. I knew he wouldn’t enthrall me. I told you once he’d never do that to a friend, did you forget? So there were only two choices—pretend it had worked or pretend it hadn’t. Do the first, and I’d be stuck at Summerfort playing the same sort of part Flint does, and you’d be on your own with nobody to look after you. Do the second convincingly and I had some chance of getting away. As for the other Enthrallers, I don’t know the answer to that, but Flint did tell me once that the singing is mostly for show. The real magic is in the part you can’t see, when they lay their hands on a person. The risk was that folk might not believe Flint could bungle an enthrallment. My acting must have been good enough.” She winced as she pulled the shirt over her head. “It must have been extremely good. I hadn’t imagined for a moment that you thought it was real. You were so self-controlled.” She put on the tunic and fastened the belt. “I’m sorry you were upset. I had to keep up the pretense while that other fellow was here, amiable as he was.” After a moment she added, “My guess is they were expected to bring me up here out of sight, then dispose of me permanently. That’s more in line with Keldec’s usual approach. Seems there’s at least one kindhearted man among Flint’s fellow warriors.”

  I said nothing. I had misjudged Flint yet again. I had sent him away without so much as a smile when he had risked everything to save Tali and to bring us to safety.

  “Neryn.”

  “I know, we have to move on. Here, I’ll take the bag.”

  “I’ll carry it. Thank you for bringing my weapons.” She waited while I picked up my staff and put on the cloak she had passed back to me. “I won’t lie to you; we may find ourselves in real trouble soon. Whichever path we take from here, we’ll be near the Rush valley when people are heading home from the Gathering. If anyone who was down there just now spots me walking up the valley and obviously in my right mind, we’ll be reported straightaway. I don’t need to spell out what the consequences of that would be. Even if nobody sees us, even if we have perfect weather and move as fast as we possibly can, we’ll reach Shadowfell much later than we originally planned. We could go to ground somewhere until the crowds have dispersed. But then we’d have no hope of getting you to the Lord of the North and back again before winter.”

  “I have a plan. At least, I had a plan I was going to use when I thought—”

  “When you thought you’d have to convey a half-wit all the way to Shadowfell?” I heard a smile in her voice. “Tell me.”

  “I thought Sage or some of her clan might be close by; they were camped here once before. There were no Good Folk down at Summerfort, not a trace of them. Up here, farther from the iron weaponry, I thought some of them might be prepared to come out if I called them. I would have asked them for help to get you safely to Shadowfell.”

  “Still will, I hope, especially if they can do so quickly. I’ve a good chance of getting you to Shadowfell alive. I can take you on to the north. But I can’t achieve the impossible. You might still reach the Lord of the North before the autumn storms set in. But you wouldn’t get back; you’d be there for the winter.”

  “And so would you,” I said, realizing what that would mean for the rebels. Her role was vital, not only for keeping bodies strong and morale high over the long shut-in winter, but for helping Regan plan ahead. They would struggle without her. “Of course, someone else could go with me.”

  “Someone could. There’s no predicting what Regan will want. If he’s there to make the decision.” A silence. “But after what’s just happened, you may prefer it to be one of the others.”

  “You’d always be my first choice,” I said. “But only if you wanted the job.”

  “Will you call the Good Folk, then? Or are they not here?”

  “Oh, they’re here,” I told her. “I can feel them all around. But I may not need to call.”

  “Why no—”

  Lights appeared in the forest around us, closing in from the shadows under the trees. We stood silent as small beings came into view, eight of them in all, each carrying a tiny glowing lantern. They made a circle around us at a distance of a few paces, then sat down, placing their lights carefully on the ground. Rather than tower over them, Tali and I sat down beside them.

  No Sage. No Red Cap. But these were familiar faces: the doubting Silver was here, delicate and fey in her shimmering gown, and beside her were others of her clan—Daw, Gentle, Blackthorn, and more. Despite Silver’s misgivings, they had helped me before. They would help me again. “Thank you,” I murmured. “Oh, thank you for coming here.”

  “A wee birdie told us you were in strife,” said the little herbalist, Gentle, speaking as if it were only a day or two since she had last seen me. “Thanks to your courage and your friend’s quick wits,” she glanced at Tali, “you’re out o’ trouble for now. But you’ll be needin’ to get awa’ soon.”

  Silver spoke. Her voice was like the ringing of a lovely bell; her face wore a familiar frown. But her words surprised me. “We believe that if you attempt to return to Shadowfell on foot, even on side paths, the Enforcers will catch up with you. You escaped tonight only by luck and quick thinking. We could not help you; not in that place of iron.”

  “How do you know what happened if you cannot go there?” Tali asked.

  “A crow flew over,” said the bird-man Daw. “We have followed your journey, all of it, in one way or another. Our people are out and about, crossing Alban as never before, since Sage brought the word. Much change. Much disturbance.”

  “You cannot reach the Lord of the North by human pathways,” Silver said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Not before the autumn. But … there is another way. A way that may be confronting to humankind, but a quick one.”

  “A very quick one,” said Blackthorn, the clan’s wizened elder. “You can be on the Lord’s doorstep tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Tali sounded incredulous.

  “That would be … a gift,” I said. No
more long days of walking; no need to hunt, fish, and forage on the journey; no constant looking over our shoulders. No need to find our own way through the wild and perilous north. The relief was such that I felt faint.

  “The Northies have sent you a guide,” said Blackthorn. “Something of a surprise.”

  “What guide?”

  Gentle said nothing, only looked up into the trees; the others too turned their gaze upward. There, perched on a branch above us, was a pure white owl, his feet neatly clad in small felt boots. The boots were a warm blue and had some kind of embroidery on them. I had encountered this creature before. When I had been struggling to survive on my own, after Flint first told me he was an Enthraller and I fled from him in revulsion, on a night when I might have died of cold, this being had come to help me. He was powerful, and he was from the Watch of the North.

  I rose to my feet and bowed, then looked up to meet the being’s gaze. His face was not quite that of an owl; there was a suggestion of a young man about it too. “We have met once before,” I said, “and I am deeply in your debt. May I know your name?”

  The owl being blinked his great eyes. “Whisper,” he said. “Word came that you’re seeking the Lord o’ the North. The Big One’s sleeping and canna be woken. Maybe your call can stir him. We’ve waited long for that. I’ll be taking you tae his hall. Now, straightaway. Ready?”

  I longed to say a simple yes. This was just what we needed. But I must explain, for the offer was based on false hope. “My gift—it’s not—”

  “Wait,” Tali said, and all eyes went to her. “Straightaway? You’re saying we can’t go back to Shadowfell first?”

  If I had not known before how much it meant to her, getting back there and seeing Regan before he headed out on another mission, I heard it now in her voice.

  “As I see it, you have a choice,” Whisper said. “And you wouldna be wanting tae dawdle over the choosing. The two of you come wi’ me and reach the Big One by morning. Or the Caller comes wi’ me, and the fighting lassie returns tae Shadowfell on her own.”

  I could not let this go on. “Whisper … I can’t use my gift to wake the Lord of the North. I understand that his people need him back. I need him too, so I can learn about the magic of earth. But … a person like me doesn’t summon a Guardian.”

  Whisper regarded me gravely. “Then you’ll be needing tae wake him some other way, lassie. Come on now, make up your minds. Is it the two of you or only the one coming north?”

  Silence. Tali’s jaw was clenched tight. I wanted to tell her she could go back to Shadowfell, I would be fine, some of the Good Folk could bring me safely home when my training was completed. But I couldn’t give her anything but the truth.

  “You won’t be safe on your own,” I said quietly. “You said it yourself; the moment someone spots you, they’ll report you to the Enforcers. Now that the king and queen have seen you, along with their court and their guards, you won’t be able to go about openly at all. Not in this region anyway.” After a moment I added, “You’re not the easiest person to disguise.”

  Tali’s mouth twisted. “Now, that’s new, you telling me I won’t be safe. Neryn, forget strategy for a moment. What do you want me to do?”

  We’d started this journey in wary cooperation, at best. This question told me how much that had changed. If I had not been quite sure before that Tali trusted me as a comrade and as a friend, I was sure now. I spoke as if the Good Folk were not present, as if the two of us were alone together by our campfire.

  “I’d like you to come with me. I know you want to go back; I know how worried you are. But I would feel much safer if you were with me, and … when we were in the isles, it was much easier to learn, much easier to get through the long days, because I knew you would be there waiting for me. I’m not used to having friends to support me. It makes it much easier to be strong.”

  One of the Good Folk gave an audible sigh, as a listener might at a poignant moment in an old tale. Silver glared at the little creature and it fell silent, looking down at its three-toed feet.

  “Very well, then, if that’s what you want.” Tali’s tone was gruff. She seemed to be avoiding my gaze. “Can’t say I’m overkeen on heading up the valley alone. Regan and the others would probably be gone by the time I reached Shadowfell anyway. One thing, though.”

  “Oh, aye?” Whisper was sounding somewhat cool now.

  “I’m not leaving my weapons behind. They’ve come all this way and I’m keeping them. They can stay wrapped up; I’m getting used to that. But if I go, they go.”

  “You ask much.”

  “So do you.” She met Whisper’s owl-eyes with a steady gaze.

  “Aye, well.” This seemed to be a yes. Whisper lifted his wings and flew down to land beside us. “We’d best be on our way. Gather your bits and pieces and follow me.”

  Our passage to the north was indeed quick. Quick, dark, and confronting enough to turn a person’s hair pure white. I should have remembered that the magic of earth included the magic of stone. I should have remembered how it was last autumn, when the king’s men almost caught me in a narrow defile. I had pressed myself up against the sheer cliff face and asked a stanie mon to hide me. For a little, that day, I had believed I would be entombed, immobile, within the rocks until I died, perhaps of sheer terror. Only when I’d remembered the need to address the stanie mon in a particular kind of verse, the kind used in a children’s game, had he released me.

  Whisper led the two of us up the hillside, with the Westies coming beside and behind, lighting the way with their small lanterns. Tali carried the pack; I brought my staff. We climbed steadily for some time, until we were high above Summerfort. By daylight there would be a fine view of Deepwater and the forested hills all around.

  “Ready?” Whisper said, halting abruptly and turning to face us.

  Tali spoke for the two of us; I was still catching my breath. “We’re ready.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yes, we’re sure!” I caught Tali’s unspoken words: Get on with it, will you? Perhaps she was remembering being caught up and whirled around in the descent from that cliff top on Ronan’s Isle to the Hag’s boat.

  “Very well. Wee folk!” Whisper was addressing the Westies, his tone somewhat patronizing, though he stood no higher than Silver, who was the tallest of the group. “Step back. When we’re gone, douse those lanterns and make your way home, quick as you can. You can tell the messengers the Caller’s safe, and on her way north.”

  “There is no need to spell it out for us,” said Silver testily. “Farewell, Neryn. Go safely.”

  “When you reach that place, Neryn,” put in Gentle, “see to it that the lassie there gets some salve for her cuts and bruises. I’d have done it myself if we’d had more time.” She looked up at Tali. “You’re a braw fighter, lassie. Strong to the core.”

  “I wondered …” Tali was unusually hesitant; she glanced at Daw. “I know there are birds carrying news. Have you any news of Regan, our leader? When we left, he was heading for Corriedale. But he might be back at Shadowfell by now—”

  “Nae time for chatter,” Whisper said. “We must go now.”

  But Daw, ignoring this, said, “He went to Corriedale. He returned to Shadowfell. More, I do not know.”

  Did I imagine the sudden glint of tears in Tali’s eyes, bright in the soft lantern light? “Thank you,” she said, her voice a murmur.

  “Now,” said Whisper, and this time everyone obeyed. The Westies retreated. Tali and I stood still, waiting for whatever might come, another whirlwind, a magical charm to make us fly, a vehicle of some kind, though what could cover the miles from here to the north in a single night, I could not imagine.

  “Grasp hands,” Whisper said. “Keep hold and dinna let go. This will be long; hold still and quiet until I give you the word. Got that?”

  We nodded; I was not sure if the period of silence had already started.

  “Now, then,” said Whisper, and everything went dark.
Pitch-dark. Utterly dark, as it had been the other time, when the stanie mon had hidden me within a wall of stone. And it was silent; the small creaks and rustles of the forest creatures, the movement of trees in the breeze, the soft tread of our feet, all were gone. There was nothing; only Tali’s hand in mine, and the thunderous beating of my heart.

  Tali’s fingers tightened on mine momentarily, then relaxed as she imposed her customary self-control. After the first jolt of panic, I drew on the Hag’s training to keep my body still, breathing in a pattern. If there was anything I had learned in the isles, it was to maintain my balance when I could not see; I had spent long periods standing in that cave with my eyes shut, simply breathing. But this was harder. In the cave, even when the Hag was not guiding me with her voice, there had always been the sound of the sea.

  I felt no sense of movement. As far as I knew, we remained standing on the hilltop above Summerfort, under the trees, and the forest creatures were carrying on their nightly business around us as always. Only, we had been rendered blind and deaf.

  Time passed—a great deal of time, or so it seemed. I maintained my steady breathing; I tried to keep my thoughts from wandering to treacherous areas, such as whether what Flint had done for us would put him in still more peril. Or whether, when the shocks of today had subsided, Tali would be furious with me for coming to Summerfort instead of escaping up the valley and leaving her to fend for herself as the rebel code required. I tried to banish the vile sights and sounds of the Gathering from my mind, but they would not go away.

  Gods, it was dark! I tried to shift my weight onto one leg, then the other, without actually moving. My knees were starting to feel odd, shaky, even though all I had done was stand still. My throat was dry; I wanted to cough. And I needed to relieve myself. Whisper had said we would be there by morning. We didn’t seem to be going anywhere. But perhaps, in some strange way, we were already traveling. Perhaps this was the journey north. Perhaps, to get there, we must maintain this pose all night. What would happen if one of us moved? If one of us, in a moment of inattention, asked the other how she was feeling? Would that leave us where we’d started, on the hillside above Summerfort with enemies all around? We might never reach the Lord of the North. I fought back a yawn. Weapons sharp. Backs straight. Hearts high.