Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
K it woke to bright sunshine and the worst stench he had ever smelled. He was lying in a foetal position and something was looming over him and stabbing him in the ribs. He cried out, scuffling back against the end of the shelter.
He looked up to face his assailant and locked eyes with the most malevolent-looking bird he’d ever seen. He sagged back, relieved that he wasn’t actually being attacked, and let out a long sigh. The bird honked at him, sounding like a goose with a sore throat, and let out another belch of foul breath. He pushed it away and it waddled off on squat legs.
Valentine was still asleep, smiling serenely. He had ended up huddled in a corner because she was spreadeagled across most of the straw. Aching and stiff, he begrudged her the easy sleep she was obviously having.
His stomach growled. His wristwatch had stopped at midnight, and he had no idea what time it was here. He’d been hoping it would keep track of the time in England but apparently not, unless the reason the hands had barely moved was that no time had passed at all. His body might by lying on his bed while the dregs of his cocoa cooled in the cup.
He hoped that was the case. He’d find Adelaide, deal with Silas Wilde (quite what that would involve, he hadn’t yet decided) and return home before anyone noticed his absence. He hauled over his rucksack, deciding not to wake Valentine just yet, and ate a couple of ginger biscuits and an apple. It wasn’t much considering he was ravenous. He should ration the food, but with luck he’d be home before dinner and it was best to be satisfied now.
The bird returned while he was finishing a third biscuit, and it wasn’t alone. With it was another, larger, of its species, along with three chicks in a neat line. The original bird stared at Kit with eyes that were more intelligent than a bird’s had any right to be. It clacked its beak a couple of times then gave itself a shake, ruffling feathers all over its dumpy little body. Something clicked in Kit’s brain. He’d seen one identical to it stuffed and mounted in the Natural History Museum.
‘A dodo!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s a bloody dodo!’
His words roused Valentine, who mumbled something and rolled over. The bird looked meaningfully at the remains of the apple in Kit’s hand. There wasn’t much left. He’d gnawed almost down to the core, but he broke it in half and lobbed both pieces a little distance away. The birds immediately began squawking and scurried over to it.
‘Stop feeding them,’ Valentine mumbled. ‘Otherwise we’ll have the entire flock after us for the next week.’
‘They’re dodos,’ Kit said.
She sat up, brushing a little straw from her fringe. ‘Yes. Stupid things that they are. As birds go, they aren’t too bright, but they’re very determined.’
‘Never mind their relative intelligence, why do they exist at all?’ Kit asked. ‘They went extinct hundreds of years ago.’
Now he knew what they were, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. All five of them stood in a semicircle: parents on the outside, chicks in between, with expectant glints in their eyes. They were taking cautious steps closer to the shelter.
‘No, they didn’t.’ Valentine clambered to her feet and walked towards the noisy birds, trying to shoo them away, but they skirted around her and resumed their vigil. ‘When it became apparent that your kind was determined to wipe them out, The Parliament brought most of the colony here.’ She smiled. ‘It was actually Silas’s great, great-grandmother who first tabled the motion. I believe in some circles they are quite valued as pets, though their cry sets my teeth on edge.’
‘But this is wonderful,’ Kit breathed, crumbling a biscuit and throwing it to the dodos. ‘We could take this whole family back and re-introduce them.’
‘And what right would you have to do that?’ asked Valentine. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. ‘What arrogance do you possess to think that you have any claim on this bird, given how your species treated them?’
Her voice dripped with contempt. Kit flushed defensively as he struggled for a retort, but then he caught himself and stared at the family of dodos.
‘You’re right. We don’t.’
The youngest chick cocked its head on one side. It was about the size of a Yorkshire terrier. It bobbed over to him and he threw it a couple of the gingerbread crumbs. It made a trilling noise and he reached out a hand. The dodo allowed him to scratch it at the side of its beak. His fingers came away slightly oily. Emboldened, the chick’s siblings rushed forward.
‘I haven’t got anything else, I’m sorry,’ he said, holding his empty palms out as proof. The birds warbled in collective disappointment and the parents began to gather them round, hissing angrily.
‘We should leave,’ Valentine said, picking up her bag. ‘We’ve got a long way to go today. I know where we are now, and I think there’s a pool we can wash in a little down the road. Come on.’
Kit gathered his things. The dodos, presumably realising no more treats were on offer, waddled off, hooting disappointedly. By the time Kit and Valentine were packed and ready to go the birds had moved on to a field, pecking at corn that a young boy with hairy feet was throwing to them from a bucket. Roughly a dozen more birds were flocking around him. Kit paused to look. They appeared as contented as chickens on farms. He had a brief vision of thousands of the birds strutting around the farm at home.
‘I would love to show these to Oliver. Before you say it, yes, I know that’s not possible, and I understand why.’
Valentine looked on him with slightly kinder eyes than she had the first time he had mentioned taking them home.
‘You want to because you’re genuinely interested in them, aren’t you? Not for what fame or fortune it could bring you.’
‘Yes. They’re not exactly beautiful but they have a lot of personality.’
‘And there’s a lot to be said for that.’ Valentine smiled.
Kit dropped his eyes. He assumed she was referring to his ruined face, and not for the first time he found her matter-of-fact attitude refreshing. He shifted his bag to a more comfortable position on his shoulder. ‘Let’s go and leave these birds with their friends. You can tell me what other strange species you have rescued.’
‘Well, unicorns of course,’ Valentine told him as they walked along the path that climbed gently upwards. ‘A couple of packs of lyam-hounds, and I believe someone tried to reintroduce basilisks, but finding blind men to watch them isn’t easy.’
Kit shook his head. ‘Basilisks and unicorns. If I ever tell anyone about this, they’ll assume I have gone mad.’
‘Very true,’ Valentine said cheerfully. ‘That’s the usual outcome for those who encounter us, assuming they don’t actually go mad. Look to some of your artists and poets, if you want examples.’
She sounded so blasé about it that Kit’s hackles raised.
‘My great-aunt, Merelda, is under a spell. For years we’ve all assumed she’s feeble-minded, and have treated her with pity or condescension, but she isn’t. She’s been horribly treated by one of your kind and it makes me feel sick to think of it. Now you have the audacity to laugh about causing madness! Don’t take the moral high ground with your talk about the harm my kind cause when yours can inflict such suffering.’
‘Neither Silas nor I had anything to do with that,’ Valentine shot back at him.
‘That doesn’t matter. I had nothing to do with the extinction of the dodo, yet you speak as if I’ve gone round stamping on nests. You came to my world to steal people. You disgust me!’
He was breathing hard by the time he finished ranting. Valentine’s mouth had fallen open, and she stood dumbstruck, her eyes brimmed as if she was about to cry but he didn’t care.
‘Come on,’ Kit snarled. ‘Take me to Silas and let’s get whatever we have to do over and done with.’
He spun on his heel and carried on walking. Presently he heard Valentine’s footsteps and she fell in beside him. She didn’t speak and he continued to ignore her, keeping his eyes fixed on the way ahead. The path joined another and became a road that reminded Kit of the Roman ones he’d learned about at school. At least it made walking easier because the company left a lot to be desired. They stamped along in uneasy silence but when Kit thought it was probably time for elevenses, he unearthed the biscuits and offered one to Valentine out of politeness.
‘No conditions,’ he said pointedly.
She curled her lip but ate it, then gave him a wide-eyed smile. ‘Oooh, I could grow fat eating those, they’re lovely. You should have at least tried to gain an advantage before offering me something that nice.’
Kit stared at her, the rage which had been ebbing catching up with him again.
‘I don’t want to try to gain an advantage. Unlike you, I have some honour and I don’t see everything as a way of getting what I want.’
She tossed her head. ‘Well, then, that makes you a fool.’
‘No, it makes me a decent person by not seeing everything as a bargaining chip. You just listen to yourself.’
‘What else can I do?’ she asked. ‘I have barely any power and every moment of my existence must be earned by what I can offer or accept.’
‘Wouldn’t it be better to be poor but not beholden?’
‘You listen to yourself .’ Valentine laughed bitterly. ‘Don’t think for a minute that you are any different to me. The bride you are coming to rescue is only your chosen wife because of her money. Would you choose her without it? More to the point, without your land and status do you think she would choose you?’
‘Oh, get to hell,’ Kit snapped.
Valentine visibly paled. ‘Don’t say that. Never say that.’ Her voice was actually shaking. ‘Hell has claimed enough of my kind.’
Kit stared at her in bewilderment.
‘It’s just an expression,’ he said.
‘Nothing is just an expression.’
She carried on walking, stumbling slightly. Kit followed in dismay, the expression on her face and the horror in her voice eating away at his conscience. She’d been genuinely scared, and his mind whirled with implications he didn’t really want to contemplate.
The morning grew hotter and more oppressive. Kit’s throat dried out and his belly felt shrunken. He removed his sweater, but his shirt clung to him uncomfortably.
Valentine turned off the road as it wound downwards through a valley and walked across a field to a shallow pool surrounded by trees, with a narrow strip of sand at one side. She dropped her bag at the edge and took off her shoes. To Kit’s mortification she unbuttoned her dress and slipped out of it, so that she was standing only in what appeared to be a short vest that came barely below her bust, and a pair of drawers that barely reached halfway down her thighs. He averted his eyes hastily and heard her snigger. Already feeling intolerant from the heat and their previous argument, he scowled.
She walked past him, straight into the pool, not turning back to Kit until she was waist-deep.
‘Aren’t you going to come in? It’s wonderfully cool.’
‘I don’t know if it’s safe,’ he said sullenly. ‘From what I’ve learned of this place, there might be anything lurking under the surface to drag me down and enslave or eat me.’
Valentine laughed and let herself fall backwards, the water billowing around her and swallowing her. She swam a few strokes on her back beneath the surface, kicking her legs boldly. The water was clear enough that he could see her shape perfectly. She resurfaced and looked at him.
‘I shouldn’t have laughed,’ she said. ‘That was a fair point. I give you my word that I’m the only thing in the pool.’
The breeze licked around Kit, drawing his attention to the dampness beneath his armpits and on his torso and back. The pool looked inviting, and his resistance was weakening.
‘So, the only thing I need to worry about is you,’ he grumbled, not yet ready to bend.
Her face grew earnest. ‘You don’t need to worry about me hurting you.’
He sneered. ‘Forgive me if I show doubt.’
‘I mean it. I gave my word.’
Her hair was plastered to her cheeks. She lifted her arms and ran her hands through it, pushing it back off her forehead –a movement that gave Kit a glimpse of the soft, golden hair beneath her armpits and raised her breasts a little. He tore his eyes from them, acutely aware of how much he wanted to touch the small mounds. Her chemise was pale pink, and now that it was wet through, didn’t conceal anything. If he could see below her waist would there be a triangle of gold at her crotch, visible only in silhouette? He grew warm thinking of it, and his collar appeared to shrink around his neck. He unbuttoned it, trying to be discreet, but Valentine’s eyes glowed.
‘I knew you wanted to come in,’ she said.
Kit gave up the pretence that he was resisting it. A cool dip would put an end to the completely inappropriate fantasies his brain was currently spinning for him.
‘Turn your back for a minute,’ he said.
‘Don’t be so coy,’ Valentine purred. ‘I don’t care.’
‘Just do it, please,’ Kit said, wishing he was as uninhibited as she was.
He stripped down to his underclothes then waded into the pool. The water was intensely cold and he gasped as it reached his groin, goosepimples breaking out all over his body.
‘You made it look so warm!’ His teeth were actually chattering.
‘Isn’t it? I don’t really feel the cold,’ Valentine said, lowering herself beneath the surface.
Kit counted to three, lifted his feet and threw himself backwards, letting himself sink under the water and resurfacing quickly beside Valentine.
‘There, you’re braver than you knew,’ she said, giving him a smile.
Once he’d got over how cold it was, it was very invigorating. Valentine dived under and swam the width of the pool. Kit followed and for a while they raced each other. When he tired of being beaten, he lay back and floated, letting the tension in his muscles ebb away. Small waves lifted him to and fro, caused by Valentine’s gentle strokes as she swam in circles around him.
He could gladly have stayed there all day, but when Valentine tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, he reluctantly followed her to the shore.
They had no towels, but the sun was warm so they lay on the sand to let their clothes dry. Valentine stretched out like a pedigree cat luxuriating on a sunlit cushion while Kit extended his arms and legs like a starfish. He couldn’t imagine Adelaide doing such a thing. She had always hated bathing in open water, practically needing to be forced to paddle when they’d gone to Whitby or Scarborough as children. She might consent to lie by an outdoor pool somewhere like the French Riviera and occasionally dip in to cool off, but that would be about the extent of her aquatic adventures.
‘Kit, I’m sorry for what happened to your great-aunt, and for making light of what can happen.’ Valentine spoke quietly. ‘My kind can be blasé at times. We are fickle and wayward by nature.’
He looked at her in surprise. ‘Thank you.’
She sat and propped herself up with her elbows.
‘I haven’t treated you well since we arrived. I’m still furious at the way you treated me when you locked me in that room and it’ll take me a while to get over it, but it isn’t your fault that humans behave the way they do. I can’t blame you for all their ills.’
Adelaide wouldn’t have apologised. Valentine’s frankness was quite disarming.
‘I want to apologise, too,’ Kit said. ‘I know neither you nor Silas were responsible for Merelda’s situation. She told me that herself.’
He rolled over onto his front to let the back of his clothes dry and propped himself up, head level with Valentine’s.
‘I think if we’re to get along, you need to tell me everything I need to know. What’s going to happen when we reach Silas? I’d appreciate honesty. Will there be danger?’
He tried not to let his voice shake, but heard a slight quiver at the edge of it.
‘There is always danger. That’s one of the terrible things that has happened since the changes. I can’t guarantee it won’t come from Silas, but he won’t be the main source of it. I don’t expect you to believe me, but he is not your enemy.’
‘He made himself my enemy when he stole Adelaide,’ Kit said harshly. His chest constricted. Here he was, sitting by a pleasant pool while she might be suffering goodness knew what indignities and torments, sunbathing with her abductor’s accomplice.
‘Yes, I know. And I know that is something he regrets,’ Valentine said quietly.
‘Please believe me, Kit, neither of us want to be your enemies. We are generally a peaceful people, but desperate times cause even the mildest person to do things they find anathema.’
She put her hand on his upper arm. Her fingers were cool from bathing and felt acutely sensitive on his slightly damp skin, causing the hairs to rise on end. Immediately the flare of anger subsided, replaced by escalating desire. He had to assume she wasn’t using magic against him because she had vowed not to but the shock of such an unexpected reaction was immense. He’d kissed her once and that was more than he should have done.
‘I’m getting hungry,’ he said, using the comment as an excuse to pull away and reach for his rucksack. ‘I’m nearly out of biscuits. What here is going to be safe for me to eat? Merelda said it’s an easy way to get trapped.’
‘Food growing wild is fine. That belongs to no one. For example, the berries on the bushes over there are safe to eat,’ Valentine said, pointing to a cluster of foliage that looked a little like blackberry bushes but with lime-coloured leaves. She jumped to her feet and pulled her dress on, completely indifferent to whether he was watching or not, then strolled around the pool towards them. By the time Kit had dressed (a little less self-consciously than he’d undressed) and joined her, she had picked a handful of deep purple, swollen berries.
‘Here.’
She held one up to his lips. When he hesitated, she frowned.
‘What?’
‘I only have your word that they’re safe.’
Her frown deepened into a scowl. ‘When will you believe you can trust me?’
She threw the berry up into the air and caught it in her mouth, swallowed, then licked her lips.
‘Perfectly safe, see.’
She held out another between thumb and forefinger. He took it into his mouth quickly, still mindful of how her earlier touch had set excitement racing through him. Sharp, sweet juice exploded in his mouth, running down his throat. He moaned in appreciation, which caused Valentine to grin.
He picked a handful himself and they ate as they walked, only speaking to bid other travellers a good day. Unlike before, the silence was companionable. The swim and the rest had done wonders for Kit’s mood.
The road passed through a few settlements, mainly straight, occasionally winding, but always with a gentle incline. When it reached a crossroads, Valentine turned left.
‘Tomorrow we’ll have to climb the path through the mountains and it’s not a place to be at night. We’ll stay at the next inn we see. There’s bound to be one this close to the crossroad, and with luck it will be a Safe House.’
Kit wrinkled his brows and before he could ask for clarification, Valentine explained, ‘That means every traveller is welcome and no one will trespass on another’s privacy or business. No one will care that you’re a stranger.’
‘I didn’t bring any money for a hotel,’ he said with dismay.
Valentine smiled. ‘I’ll pay. You can owe me a box of those delicious biscuits, and I’ll take payment when you return home.’
He stuck his hand out. ‘I accept your terms, Valentine.’
She shook it. ‘You’d still better observe the courtesies regarding obligations, and for Mab’s sake, be polite to other guests, because the protection only lasts a certain distance from the Safe House and you don’t want someone catching up with you on the road to settle scores.’
She looped her arm through his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. ‘But on the whole we’ll be able to sleep easily and in a bed for a night.’
Considering the last couple of days, Kit would risk an awful lot of scores to be sleeping on a mattress rather than straw and not to be woken up by extinct birds. Besides, if there was the assurance of safety from the inn itself, then even if he didn’t completely trust Valentine, what harm could possibly come to them?