скачать книгу бесплатно
‘Iubeo folia cadere, evolare, evanescere sicut aer …’
He repeated the spell over and over, his voice getting louder, until he was shouting at the tree, pressing his hands against its trunk – but the leaves remained stubbornly in place.
‘Finn …’ Merry put her hand on his arm.
He let go of the tree, dragging the back of one hand shakily across his face. ‘It’s no good. I just can’t … feel it.’
Merry bit her lip. What had happened to him? And was it going to happen to her next? Sighing, she pushed the thought to one side: there was little point worrying about it now. ‘I’m sure it’s not permanent. And in the meantime, we’ll just have to manage the best we can. At least you can handle a sword. The way you decapitated that harpy was pretty impressive.’
‘Huh.’ Finn didn’t sound particularly comforted. ‘All the boys in the Kin Houses know how to fight with pleb weapons.’
The Kin Houses: families of wizards where the sons – and only the sons – inherited magical ability from their fathers. Kin House wizards were at the top of the social pile: better than other wizards, and infinitely superior to witches. At least in their own eyes. They were also, in Merry’s experience, sexist and arrogant: even Finn, although he tried hard to overcome his upbringing. Merry guessed the Kin House girls, non-magical and mainly valued as pawns in dynastic marriages, didn’t get to learn how to use a sword. They probably had to stick to needlework. She sighed and laid her head against Finn’s shoulder.
‘Don’t worry. We’re going to find Leo, and get back home, and then everything will be normal again. You’ll see.’
There was a noise behind them. Jack was standing there, watching them, his horse next to him. The expression on his face was softer; perhaps he pitied them? Tying the horse’s reins to a branch he drew nearer. ‘It’s nearly midday. We should leave this place.’
For a moment, Finn’s gloom was replaced by surprise. He could obviously understand what Jack had said. But his expression soured again as he looked up at the other boy. ‘Where are you proposing we go?’
Jack controlled his surprise better, but he pointedly addressed his answer to Merry, not Finn. ‘There’s a cave, less than a day’s walk from here. You can rest there while I seek out news of your brother.’
Finn stood up, shaking his head. ‘C’mon, Merry. Jack’s already told us everything he knows. I can’t see the point of wasting a day walking to this cave. We need to start looking for Ronan ourselves. Leo’s probably still with him.’
‘I would not reject my offer of help if I were you.’ Jack’s voice sharpened. ‘You may be happy to put your companion in danger, or to rely on her protection. But the land is no longer safe for her kind.’
Finn squared up to Jack, reaching for his sword. ‘I don’t know who you think you are, pleb, but I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself and Merry …’
Merry jumped up and put a hand on Finn’s arm, gently tugging him backwards. ‘Finn, please don’t. Jack’s right: we need to get our bearings. This place just isn’t what I was expecting …’ She glanced uneasily at the ashes of the harpy. ‘I think we could use a little local help. We could definitely use more information. I mean, shouldn’t we work out what we’re up against? What Ronan’s been doing since he arrived?’
Finn’s eyes were stony. But he turned his back on Jack, brushing some dirt off his sleeve. ‘Leo wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t stopped you killing Ronan while you had the chance. So, it’s your call, Merry. Whatever you think best.’
Merry squeezed Finn’s hand, then turned to Jack. ‘Very well. We’ll go with you – hopefully we’ll find news of Ronan and Leo. But no funny business.’ It didn’t come out right in Old English, but Jack seemed to understand what she was saying. He led the horse forward and tied Merry’s pack on to its back.
‘Sorrel here can carry your bags. We have a long way to go.’
At some point, Merry had lost track of how long they’d been walking. And now it was impossible to tell where they were. The forest seemed to stretch on forever, in all directions: acres and acres of almost identical trees. Sharp-needled yews, so dark a green as to be almost black, or broad-trunked oaks, twisted with age, their leafless fingers stretching out above the narrow path. Snow lay everywhere on the ground, and as the day waned they all stumbled more and more often into deep drifts. Merry had wanted to use magic to clear the path, but Jack wouldn’t let her; he didn’t want to risk attracting the attention of the creatures, magical or non-magical, that lived in the wood. He even objected to her using witch fire to light their way. Merry, peering into the darkness between the trees, shivered. She couldn’t make out anything lurking in the shadows. But still, there was a vigilance to the forest that set her teeth on edge. Something was watching them; something that didn’t want them there. So, she hadn’t argued with Jack. Instead, they toiled on, hour after hour, even after the daylight was gone.
At least there was a full moon tonight. It had risen high, and was now hanging in the strip of sky directly above them. Merry, trailing behind the other two, stared up at it. She wondered where Leo was, whether he was looking up at the same moon and asking himself why his sister had abandoned him. Tears clouded her vision. She stumbled into yet another deep, snow-concealed rut and plunged forward on to her face.
Finn hurried back and pulled her out of the drift, hauling her upright and brushing the snow off her legs. ‘Are you all right?’ It was the first time he’d spoken for hours. He waited for her to nod before turning on Jack. ‘This is ridiculous. It’s almost pitch-black, we’re slowly freezing to death, we’ve been walking for ages, and we’re not getting anywhere. Where the hell is this cave you’re supposedly guiding us to? If it’s not near, we should stop to rest.’
Jack raised his eyebrows. He whispered something to Sorrel and walked over to Finn and Merry. ‘Do you not trust me? Wizard?’ His voice was low, but the sarcasm in it was unmistakable. Finn flushed and half-stepped towards Jack, one hand raised, before abruptly turning away.
Merry glared at Jack; he shrugged slightly. ‘Finn’s right,’ she said, ‘we should camp here for the night, if this cave is much further.’ Her limbs ached with cold, even though she was now wearing almost every piece of clothing she’d brought with her. ‘I’d really rather not lose my fingers and toes to frostbite.’
Jack sighed.
‘We are nearly through the forest, though you cannot see the edge of the trees from here. The cave I spoke of is not so very far now, no more than an hour away.’ Sorrel snorted and tossed her head and Jack narrowed his eyes, staring into the shadow beneath the surrounding trees. ‘And it’s our only choice: you cannot sleep in the woods. Not if you wish to be alive when morning comes.’
‘I’m pretty sure I can deal with whatever this wood might throw at us.’
Jack bent his head towards hers.
‘Perhaps so. But what about your friend? Would you risk him?’
Merry glanced at Finn. He was slouched on a fallen tree trunk a few metres away, staring down at the snow. Jack had a point. Despite his earlier show of bravado, without magic, Finn couldn’t defend himself so well, and if he got captured …
She wasn’t about to have another person she loved turned into a bargaining chip.
‘OK. Let’s go.’
Jack nodded, strode over to Sorrel and began pulling the bags off the horse’s back.
‘You should ride.’
‘No. I don’t know how, and I don’t want to. I can keep walking.’
‘You’re shorter than the –’ Jack paused, cleared his throat – ‘than Finn and me. You’re slowing us down.’ He tilted his head, watching her. ‘I can tie you on, if you wish.’
Merry gritted her teeth.
‘No, thanks. I’ll manage.’
Luckily, Sorrel was standing quietly. There was a saddle of sorts, but no stirrups: Jack had to hoist her up on to the horse’s back. Once there, Merry had to wedge her knees underneath two horn-shaped bits that stuck out from the front of the saddle. She leant over and wound her hands into the horse’s mane.
A howl ripped through the stillness of the forest. Sorrel shied and Merry lurched precariously. Jack grabbed the reins and drew his knife, urging Sorrel into a walk. Finn picked up his and Merry’s bags and took up position next to her.
‘Finn? Are you OK?’
He didn’t reply; just dropped his head and jerked his backpack further up on to his shoulders.
‘Finn?’
‘I’m fine, Merry. C’mon, let’s get you out of this cold.’
He didn’t sound fine.
Merry tightened her grip on the horse. She really needed this day to be over.
Perhaps Jack’s estimate of the distance to the cave was accurate, but to Merry it seemed like one very long hour. A couple of times she nearly fell asleep, nodding over Sorrel’s neck, catching herself just in time as she began to slip sideways. And once she thought she saw a face peering at them from the trees nearest the path. But by the time she’d blinked and straightened up to get a better look, whatever it was – if it was anything at all, other than her imagination – had gone. Finally, the trees thinned and petered out. Spread below them in the moonlight, which now shone only fitfully between the clouds, was a wide, empty plain.
Not entirely empty: Merry could just make out scattered groups of buildings, or the remains of buildings. But there was no firelight, or torchlight. No signs of life anywhere.
‘This way.’ Jack turned right, away from the path that meandered down the side of the hill, leading them parallel to the wood in the direction of a rocky outcrop. He was walking faster now, guiding Sorrel past boulders half-submerged in snow, until they came to a clump of Scots pine. Beyond the pines was a sort of … fold in the ground, which deepened into a steeply sloping channel. Finally, after another few minutes of anxious scrambling, they reached the bottom.
‘Here.’ Jack pulled aside an overhanging curtain of trailing ivy. Behind was a tall cleft in the rock face. ‘It widens, inside.’
Finn dumped the bags on the ground by the cave entrance, wincing and rolling his shoulders back. ‘We need a fire.’
‘I can take care of that.’ Merry tried to dismount elegantly. But after sitting for so long, her arms and legs were too cold to obey her; she managed to swing one leg across the saddle before losing her grip and sliding sideways.
‘Careful—’ Jack began, but Finn was quicker. He grabbed Merry and lowered her gently to the ground. Her knees buckled under her immediately.
‘Sorry,’ Merry murmured. ‘Pins and needles.’
‘You’re frozen.’ Finn picked her up. ‘Let’s get inside.’
The cave was a lot larger than it looked from the outside, stretching back a long way into the hillside above. As they passed behind the ivy Merry conjured several globes of witch fire, sending most upwards to hover by the roof of the cave and keeping one in between her hands to warm them. The flickering violet light cast strange shadows, but at least it revealed their surroundings: a sandy floor in the front sections of the cave, giving way to moss-covered rocks further back. The twisting shape of the cave – from the middle of it, Merry couldn’t see the entrance – gave protection from the wind outside. Someone had dug a pit in the ground that was filled with ash; clearly, they weren’t the first people to have sought refuge here. There was even a small spring that bubbled out of a fissure in the wall before seeping away into the earth. Watching the water, Merry realised how hungry and thirsty she was. She glanced round to locate her bag and saw that Finn was sitting with his head in his hands again, tapping his fingers over and over against his skull.
‘Finn …’
He looked up at her – there was so much grief and fear in his eyes.
‘I can’t feel it any more, Merry.’ He touched the centre of his chest, and Merry remembered how he’d talked to her in the garden back home about sensing and controlling her power. ‘There’s just … emptiness.’
Merry slipped an arm round his shoulders. ‘Have you tried again to cast a spell?’
Finn shook his head. ‘There’s no point. I know it won’t work.’
Jack came in carrying a few branches and twigs. ‘This is all I could find. And it’s damp.’ He glanced uncertainly at Finn. ‘But the spring water is good to drink. It may revive you.’ Arranging the wood in a rough heap in the pit, he brought out two stones from a pouch hanging off his belt and struck a spark. But the fire wouldn’t take.
‘Let me help.’ Merry came to crouch next to Jack. The branches were thin and sodden; even to her untrained eye, they didn’t look like good bonfire material.
They need to be dryer. And much bigger.
There had been a collection of household spells among the books that Gran had given her. Merry could see it now: a blue cloth cover embossed in black. And inside had been all sorts of charms that Merry hadn’t found that interesting. Cleaning spells and darning spells and charms for making your bread mixture rise. There had also been spells for drying clothes and one for getting a tree to produce larger fruit. Some combination of those would surely work here? Merry closed her eyes and tried to remember …
Her power was strong and instant. Before she’d even finished murmuring the makeshift charm, she could feel heat on her face. And light. She opened her eyes again. In place of a few damp bits of wood there was a substantial pile of logs. Flames blazed brightly from the centre of the pile, licking around the edges of the outer logs and making them glow. Merry held her hands up to the fire and sighed as her cold, cramped muscles finally began to relax. She looked at her companions. Finn was staring at the flames, but otherwise he hadn’t moved. And Jack … Jack was busy getting food out of his bag, almost like magical fire-starting was something he saw every day. So far, he’d produced a few small yellow-brown apples, a wooden bowl full of nuts mixed with a kind of berry that Merry didn’t recognise, and a large, flat disc of bread that he was tearing into three pieces. Little enough, but better than nothing. Merry took a piece of bread and one of the apples, got a cereal bar from her bag – all she’d been able to bring since she hadn’t wanted to risk raiding the kitchen before leaving home – and went over to kneel next to Finn.
‘Do you want something to eat?’
He shrugged.
‘Please, try. It might make you feel better.’ She went to get a blanket out of her bag, and fill Finn’s water bottle at the spring. When she returned, he was picking at the bread. She shook the blanket out and wrapped it round his shoulders, crouching down in front of him. ‘Why don’t you come and sit nearer the fire?’
Finn glanced over at Jack, who was eating rapidly and cutting slices off something – cheese? – with a smaller knife.
‘No. I don’t feel like chatting. And I’m not really hungry. I, um … I guess I’ll try to get some sleep. I’m already useless enough without being exhausted too.’
‘Don’t say that: you’re not useless. I need you. Besides, the magic – it’ll come back.’
‘Maybe.’ He gave her a small smile, took her hand and dropped a kiss into her palm. ‘Don’t worry about me, Merry. Eventually I’ll stop feeling sorry for myself. And I’ll probably feel better once I’ve had some sleep.’
‘Well, give me a shout if you need anything.’
‘I will.’ He wrapped the blanket round himself and lay down, facing the wall of the cave.
Merry went back to the fire, settled herself next to Jack and took a hunk of bread and a handful of nuts.
‘Here.’ Jack poured something from a leather bottle into a horn cup and passed it to her. She took a sip.
‘Mead?’ Jack nodded. Merry felt the honeyed liquid warming her as it slipped down her throat. She was tempted to drink more. But the fire was already making her drowsy, and there was still too much she needed to know. ‘So. Ronan arrived in the autumn, if not earlier. And ever since then he’s been laying waste to the countryside. And he’s killed the queen, and is besieging the king, and if he takes the king he’ll control the kingdom.’ It sounded like a game of chess. ‘Do I have it right?’
‘Yes.’ Jack stuck the small knife into one of the apples, splitting it in half. ‘I was only told a few months ago that my parents – the people who brought me up – were not actually my kin. I travelled to Helmswick and met the king and queen, my natural parents. I spent a day with them. One day. And then …’ His features twisted with anguish. ‘And then I watched my birth mother die.’ He hunched over, wrapping his arms round his knees. It was so familiar a gesture. Merry began to reach out her hand towards him. But she stopped, remembering: this Jack didn’t know her. Had never kissed her, or held her.
‘I’m sorry, Jack.’ She hesitated briefly. ‘How did Ronan kill the queen?’
‘He cut out her heart.’
Merry shivered and took another sip of mead. It sounded as if Ronan was working blood magic, of the darkest kind.
‘My father,’ Jack continued, ‘my blood father, I mean – the queen’s death broke him, I think.’ He nudged a stray brand back into the fire with his foot.
‘Has he given up?’
‘No. But his mind … King Aidan was not, from what I’ve been told, an intolerant man. But now …’ He glanced up at her. ‘He believes magic was responsible for his wife’s death. He blames your kind: witches and wizards. He’s outlawed them, ordered them to be hunted down and executed. And Ronan, he has been searching them out too, offering wealth and position in return for their aid, taking by force those who refuse. Some have joined him willingly, eager for gain, although there are many more who have gone into hiding. It is not a good time to have magical power.’
Now, Merry understood Jack’s earlier caution. If both Ronan’s forces and the king’s servants were searching for witches and wizards, then neither she nor Finn were safe. ‘What about the harpies? Did Ronan create them, or bring them from somewhere?’
Jack looked confused by her question.
‘Harpies? No. They’ve always been here. They’re far more dangerous since Ronan arrived, of course. They thrive in the dark magic he has unleashed across the land, and have grown bolder and more numerous. Do you not have such creatures where you dwell?’
‘No. Only in stories.’ Merry felt a current of panic snake through her guts. ‘What about, um, unicorns?’
‘Yes. Not in the forest we journeyed through today, but further south.’
Oh. ‘Mermaids?’
Jack nodded, frowning at her, as if the existence of mermaids was so obvious that only an idiot would even ask.
‘Dragons?’
‘No, no dragons. They were mostly killed by the elves.’ Jack’s eyes narrowed. ‘Where exactly are you from, Merry?’
‘I’m from …’ Merry hesitated, trying to picture a map of England and remember which counties had been around in Anglo-Saxon times, ‘Northumberland.’ It came out sounding more like a question, but Jack seemed satisfied: he grunted, though, in a tone that suggested he didn’t have a high opinion of people from Northumberland.
Did that mean they were in fact in England, just in a different time? Merry wasn’t convinced. Given what Jack had just told her, she wasn’t sure this was a real place at all. It sounded more like she and Finn had fallen into a story book …
A huge yawn overtook her, and she wondered what the time was; she didn’t have a watch, and her phone was dead. Past midnight, probably. Definitely time to sleep. But she had one further question. ‘Have you ever heard of a wizard named Gwydion?’
Jack face darkened. ‘I have. He was a monster. But no one has seen him for years.’
‘Oh. So, Jack, how old are you?’
‘Nearly nineteen, I believe.’
Nineteen? Her Jack had been snatched by Gwydion just after his eighteenth birthday. Had Ronan’s arrival just messed up the sequence of events, or had Ronan put a permanent stop to Gwydion’s plans? Or was Gwydion still alive and plotting?
