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Chapter 6

Arabel picked up speed as Grawn pulled away – the villagers were turning back, inspired by the knight’s charge and the sudden disappearance of the giant that had been terrorising them. Bouncing on the back of her horse, Arabel couldn’t keep track of the thundress, having seen only that Eko jumped free of her grip before the woman tripped out of view, swinging her arms wildly.

By the time Arabel reached the centre of the devastated village, Grawn had already jumped off his horse, the returning locals gathering near him. He pushed his way through, towards something they were all circling in on, and Arabel hurried to join him. She had to pull people out of the way and skidded when she saw the thundress – lying outstretched on the ground. The woman that had stood terrifyingly over the town was now little more than average height and appeared to be quite dead. Her arms were outstretched at her side and her head lolled back into the mud, blood spread across her throat. Eko – that is, a tiny version of the monster hunter – was walking down her leg, sword out to one side, towards the leather strap around the former giant’s leg. It still had three people tied to it. She cut the closest man free, then moved on to the woman, continuing as though this were a perfectly ordinary task.

Dozens of uncertain villagers, Grawn and Arabel all stood gawking.

The next woman cut loose, Eko moved on to the final man. The freed captives got unsteadily to their feet, standing on the thundress’s thigh, and nervously turned on the spot as to look up at their shocked audience. None of them were more than three inches tall, now. Arabel noticed, too, that there were similar small people down on the ground by the dead woman’s head – another two men, and the woman in the pink dress.

Eko released the final prisoner and took in the crowd, with none of the fear that the other people had. She fixed on Arabel and pointed the sword, then called out, voice small but commandingly audible, “Where’s the witch? Have her change us back.”

Arabel looked up the road to see Caracae and Harper on their horses trotting into the village, in no hurry. The villagers murmured a mix of confused and unhappy comments, and Grawn looked actively distressed, so Arabel slipped out from the crowd and crept over to the thundress. She crouched down and paused, stunned for a moment by how the tiny version of her travelling companion looked as formidable as ever. Eko watched her with a firm expression, as Arabel scanned the thundress’s trembling captives. Other than the pink-dressed lady, they were clothed in thin furs, just enough to cover their crotches, matching the thundress’s style. The woman was hunched self-consciously, an arm held across her bare chest. They were all skinny, with messy heads of long hair. Arabel had an urge to scoop them up protectively, quashed by Eko clicking her fingers.

“Don’t just stare!” Eko said. “The witch!”

“But she can’t!” Arabel replied, in a hushed tone, to avoid sharing the enormity of the problem. Caracae had made it very clear that her shrinking power was a one-way trip.

“My Ronny!” a woman suddenly cried, pushing through the crowd. A villager in a torn canvas dress with ruffled brown hair burst into the clearing. “That monster ate my Ronny! He might still be alive in there!”

It sent a ripple of realisation and horror through the crowd.

“Cut it open!” a man said. “We need to get him out! Frans, too!”

Arabel appealed to Grawn to keep them calm and the knight raised his hands. “Just hold on, everyone –”

“There’s no time!” the first woman cried. She surged towards him, lunging for the knife on his hip. “Give me a –”

Grawn pushed her off and she tripped. The crowd bristled with distaste. They were itching to press forward, some still had makeshift weapons, Arabel saw – blunt knives and kitchen tools.

“Let them have it,” Eko told Arabel. “They might be right, there might still be a chance to save their friends. Either way, they’re going to want blood. Get us out of the way.”

“But –” Arabel protested.

“Pick me up, Arabel,” Eko commanded, louder, “and get us out of the way.”

Spurred by the tiny woman’s tone, Arabel put her right hand around Eko and gingerly lifted her off the dead giant. She shot a look to the agitated crowd, Grawn warning them back with his sword. With whispers of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Arabel reached her left hand down and scooped the three people from the leg together into one fist. They made noises of surprise and shifted to avoid hitting each other, but didn’t struggle otherwise as she picked them up. She flashed Grawn another looked and hissed, “Just get the others and go, Grawn!”

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The knight quickly sheathed his sword, with a few sharp elbows back to resist the crowd, and clomped to the thundress’s head to collect the last miniaturised people. No sooner had he grabbed them, the crowd of villagers followed him in with angry shouts and brandishes weapons. Arabel yelped as she ducked under them, avoiding stomping feet, and she hurried out of the clearing. The mob violently lashed at the dead body, and she wondered if there was any chance they’d actually rescue people from its belly, or if they’d merely tear it apart in anger.

“Just go, get us out of here!” Eko said from Arabel’s fist, and Arabel hurried back to her horse, where Caracae and Harper were waiting on their own mounts. Arabel looked from the people in her hands up to the witch and the thief, feeling like she needed to explain herself. There were real, living people in her hands.

“Give them here,” Harper said and Arabel instinctively tightened her grip, to absolutely not do that.

Grawn thumped up behind her, breathing heavily as he got clear of the mob, cradling the other three small people in both hands. They perched against his fingers, looking back with shock at what was happening.

Arabel quickly said, “If we secure these people, we can help –”

She trailed off as blood sprayed from the middle of the descending mob. It was a frenzy and those few who weren’t involved were cheering or shuddering with emotion on the fringes.

“Better we just go,” Eko said. “We’ve saved them, that’s enough. Bigger problems on our horizon.”

Arabel stared, stunned again by the tiny talking lady in her hand. Eko gave her a weary expression.

“Put them in your saddlebags,” Caracae said. “We can decide what to do later.”

“What’s to decide?” Eko snapped. “You’re reversing this.”

“I told you that’s not possible.”

“Well you’re gonna make it possible!” Eko tensed against Arabel’s fingers like she might spring out and attack, but the witch smiled down at her.

“As you say,” Caracae said, “better we discuss it later.”

Arabel nodded and hurried to her horse. Apologising, she set the three strangers on her saddle and rummaged in the closest saddlebag. It was a hard leather satchel stuffed with spare clothes. Not all of them clean. Biting down embarrassment, she said, “This is the safest place, I think. Unless any of you want to stay?”

The trio looked at the savage mob, which had gone from hacking at the body to shoving each other, shouting, wailing in despair at the destruction of their village. One of the small men called out, “Please, take us away fast!”

Arabel moved quickly, gently lowering each person into the bag, then she held up Eko to do the same. The huntress shouted, “Whoah, stop! I’m not going in your dirty pants. Especially not when you don’t have the sense to navigate from here. I’ll ride with you up top.”

“But –” Arabel started.

“On your shoulder. Unhook a bit of hair, I’ll strap in.”

Arabel lifted her and opened her hand to let the small woman hop onto her shoulder, and felt a small tug at her hair. Then Grawn was alongside her, carefully lifting the last of their saved people into Arabel’s satchel. Great, everyone got to enjoy her clothes. The woman in a pink dress caught her eye with worry, but jumped down all the same. Arabel breathed out at the absurd nature of this new responsibility, but closed the satchel and let herself believe that now they were out of sight she didn’t have to think about it.

She mounted up as Grawn did the same, and together the group steered around to leave the village. Eko spoke by Arabel’s ear about her own horse, no sign of it – probably bolted after it was struck. As the group moved, some of the villagers noticed they were leaving and called out to warn others.

“You have to help!” someone demanded.

“Ain’t we done enough,” Harper scoffed.

“What if more giants come!”

“We’ll send help,” Arabel told them, a necessary lie. “We’ll ride fast to the next town. The thundresses rarely leave the Nidlings in groups, though; you’re safe for now. Please, keep calm.”

“No! You know how to stop them, you can help!” a man shouted. Angry rather than grateful after this disaster.

“You used magic on that thing!” a woman said. “You’ve got a witch!”

“Just ride,” Harper said, pushing her horse to canter. Caracae nodded agreement and Grawn looked to Arabel. As more people shouted and they peeled away from the thundress’s body, faces and clothes licked with blood, Arabel tensed and gestured to the knight to go. She tugged her reigns to get moving.

The villagers picked up volume and started moving after them. A rock flew overhead, making Arabel kick her horse’s flanks to speed up. It made the villagers pick up speed, too, running out of the village now with desperate shouts.

“Monsters! You can’t leave us!”

“Give us the bloody witch!”

They couldn’t match the pace of the horses, though, and the adventurers galloped up the road to leave the carnage behind.

“Get to the front of the pack,” Eko told Arabel. “I’ll tell you where to go.”

Arabel silently complied, passing Caracae and catching up to Harper. She kept her eyes ahead, watching the road, not daring to look sideways at Eko. With the monster hunter made tiny, possibly their best defence had been compromised. How were they going to reach the heart of the Nidings now?