Clean Getaway

Taliette had expected them to turn North, along the high road towards The Sisters, but instead, Hal turned West towards the hills. They followed the lane for about a mile, then he opened a gate and they climbed up a stony track between two hedges, up onto the downs.

"Gintas expects a clean getaway," explained Hal. "He has enemies in all the nearby towns. If they see us riding out, they might take an interest in where we're going. We'll avoid people for the first few nights until we've covered a good distance and no one knows us. Then we can ride from inn to inn and sleep comfortably, but until then, we’ll be camping."

The sun rose behind them. The flinty rocks that lay scattered over the hillside cast long shadows into the tall grass. The horses snorted quietly and puffed out steam. The wind blew cold, and she drew her travelling cloak around her shoulders.

They passed a crofter bent nearly double under the weight of four baskets slung on poles across his scrawny shoulders. He kept his head down and ignored them, and they gave him a wide berth.

"Smuggler," said Hal once the old man was out of sight.

"How do you know?"

"It's three days until market, and did you see the dagger? It's a lonely road up here. He's probably hauling a crop of smokeroot."

After a while, they entered the shade of a wood. A mossy fox track wound between the trees, over hillocks that crunched beneath their boots, high stepping over roots, skirting around the ferns and bracken that unfurled across the way. Young trees stretched their leaves towards the dappled light like hopeful orphans begging for dinner.

They wound deeper into the green. The road opened out, scattered with ancient cobblestones, rutted and lifted by the hoary roots that burrowed beneath them.

"Fae road," said Hal quietly. "Don't make too much noise."

"Why not? Will the Aden get me?"

"Just, please. It makes me nervous."

They reached a rushing stream and Hal stopped to let the horses take a drink. The chatter of birds filled the air. There was no bridge, the road went straight down into the stream and came out the other side, just the same.

Taliette swung down from her horse and went to sit.

"Don't!" said Hal sharply.

She looked at him, hiding her confusion behind an icy stare.

“Why shouldn’t I sit?”

"Sorry, I just mean that the ground is wet. If you sit, you'll soak your trousers and have wet legs all day."

She leaned up against a tree. She didn't feel like arguing. There was a quiet magic here. It was a place where one might think of catching a Fae or an Aden, or maybe something darker. The thought sent a pleasant shiver up her back.

"What's the worst thing you’ve ever seen out here, Hal?"

He didn't answer right away. He stared deep into the running water as though fishing for the words.

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"Men," he said at last. "Men are the worst. I've seen Crawlers and Rag Wraiths, but they just drift around. They don't think about how they can hurt you, and they don't really enjoy it. Men think about what to do. They make decisions. They take their time."

"What about me, Hal?"

"You're not a man. You're pretty scary, but you get a free pass." He smiled at her, and his eyes twinkled under his floppy mop of curly blonde hair.

"You've seen a crawler then?" she asked.

"Sure. Not here, but further south. They look bad, but they don't last long once the sun gets on them, and they can't chase you either; they get tangled up in the trees, all the bones. I've heard there are bigger ones in the far south, but I never saw one like that."

"They dug one up on father's land once."

"Oh?"

"They were digging foundations for a barn and found it, all heaped up. Father wouldn't let me see it but I heard the noise when they burned it. Like the sound the pigs make on slaughtering day."

"Brock saw a Corpse Nest one time," he said casually as though talking about the weather, but she could see his eyes twinkling.

She raised a single, questioning eyebrow. "A what now?"

"They form sometimes on an old battlefield where magic was used. All the chopped-up bits of bodies gather together into a big heap like an ant's nest, then they go crawling out, looking for victims to drag back and add to the pile. Now that's scary. Would you like an apple?"

He tossed her one. She snatched it from the air and took a bite. The thought of all the bits of old body climbing over and over each other, bumping into each other because they couldn't see, was funny. She found herself having to suppress a giggle. She squashed the feeling and changed the subject. Never let them see.

"Where are we going, Hal?"

"You're the one that's supposed to know where we're going."

"You know what I mean. Why was Gintas waiting with horses? What's it all about?"

"Gintas doesn't want me to tell you yet, not till we're closer."

She looked him in the eye, raised her chin, gave the barest hint of a pout. He looked away, unsettled. He was so easy to manipulate, it was almost unfair.

"There are Aden there," he said.

Taliette snorted. "Seriously, Hal, I may be younger than you but don't treat me like a fool. I'm not a little girl."

He watched her quietly until she stopped huffing. "I'm not joking. Gintas has been hunting them for more than a dozen years."

"All of this for a fairy tale? I thought we were doing something real. Gintas promised me something real."

Hal shook his head. "It's no joke. Gintas has good information. There's a family living in secret near The Sisters, close by the river."

She looked at him hard. "Hal, you know that’s all just fairy tales. There are no Aden, not really. Erin is just a bedtime story for children."

He frowned a little. "I’m serious Tal. A thousand years ago, they walked these lands; maybe they even ruled them. People travelled back and forth through the shadow gates all the time. Did Gintas show you his box yet?"

She remembered. Gintas leaning in, grinning like a demon, and inside...

"Are we going to take their little starry wands away Hal? Follow them back to the pixie dell and make them hand over their magic charms?" She made her eyes go all big and wild.

"You make fun of these things, but it's not funny."

"I think I will be the judge of what is funny, Haldane."

He leaned against the tree next to her, quite close.

"Did you hear of a thing called an Armoured Witch?" he said quietly. "I think you'd like those."

She felt a little thrill go through her. Never let them see.

"I'm assuming there's nothing I can do to make you shut up, so you might as well get it over with."

“No, no it’s ok, I don’t have to tell you.”

There was a little glint in his eye. She glared at him.

"Fine, fine, I’ll tell you. They were huge, taller than trees, and they walked like dancers. But the thing about them is they were cruel. They didn't just kill, it was art to them. They painted with death. They arranged things. They left things out for people to find."

"Hmmm. Maybe that's a little bit interesting."

"They were made of something impossible, and they could leap and touch the sky and burn cities just by looking at them."

"Did you ever see one?"

"Heh, me? No one has seen one of those in a thousand years. But in the books..."

"Well, that's suddenly a whole lot less interesting then."

They watched the stream running between green banks with the light glinting off it. There were fat fish hanging just under the surface, under the wriggling bits of light. She could get her hands under one, flip it out of the water, watch it trying to breathe. The little mouth gaping. That would be fun.

"What do I do if I do meet a real-life Aden?" she asked, still staring at the fish.

"You're going to make friends with it."

She considered the idea. Something didn't fit.

"If I'm making friends," she mused, "why do I need so many arrows?"