The Girl and the Guardian

  As the afternoon wore on, the Trackers found the headwaters of Pebblebrook, and the Dagraath picked up a faint trail. Now they ran, panting and grunting eagerly, as their masters followed, stepping with spurred feet rooster-like, bent double under the overhanging brambles. But long-legged Hithrax was always at the front, tirelessly pursuing his quarry, his keen mind and third eye probing for traces of them, his glinting hawk-eyes darting from side to side as he ran.

  Soon they reached the path down to the village, and the Dagraath ran to and fro trying to pick up a scent of Korman or Shelley – or the anklebiter. But Hithrax said, ‘Heel,’ and the dogs followed the three Trackers past the meeting hall and down into the village. He knew his quarry had passed this way. And he knew the mayor would tell him which path they had taken from the village.

  As the Trackers and their Dagraath prowled down the street the geese in the fields honked their alarm, and the local dogs ran and hid whimpering in their kennels. Soon the Dagraath were sniffing at the door of Grim and Ira. Mayor Crabapple came out of his house and bowed low before Hithrax, then waited for the door to open. Grim was in the fields, but Ira answered the door.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ said Ira.

  Before the Trackers could reply, the mayor said in his most official voice, ‘We have reason to believe that Korman the Outcast, who is wanted for Treason, and Elgar the old fool, friend of Guardians, and the dangerous Edarthan girl, an escaped prisoner in league with the rebel Boy Raiders, are hiding in your house.’ But Hithrax opened his baleful third eye and gazed at her, not saying a word, searching her mind.

  ‘You won’t find them here, Crabapple,’ said Ira. The mind-probe was hurting, but she did what Korman had told her, and focussed on Elgar and Lilly as if they were Korman and Shelley.

  Finally, just as she was wavering, Hithrax turned and said, in the crude trading dialect, which the Travellers mostly used in their dealings with the villagers, ‘I hunt the girl and Korman. They go up valley over there. I leave old man to you. When missionaries come back, they deal with him.’

  Mayor Crabapple bowed. To him the Travellers appeared as angels of light, wise and noble, just as they had, at first, to Shelley in Barachthad’s cave. To Ira, Hithrax pretended to be forgiving, and told her no harm would come to her if she co-operated. But the Dagraath stared up at her with hooded eyes and growled menacingly before following their masters who were stalking off down the street.

  Ira watched them go, their clawed feet scratching the moss off the cobblestones. The trackers seemed divided as to which way the trail led. She only breathed again when the Dagraath let out an excited grunting and veered left, following the trail of the brave and desperate decoys, Elgar and Lilly, dressed in Korman’s and Shelley’s clothes. Ira sent out a prayer of protection for them, and hoped they would be far away by now. Then she prayed likewise for her son, and for Korman to wisely guide them to the lost Faery refuge of Ürak Tara.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Moonbird Hollow