Chapter 30
When I come to, I’m pillowed by something so soft, and I’m sure I must be back in the High Hold. I turn and bury myself into it, nuzzling into the soft fur of my new, warm cushion, only vaguely aware of the earthy aroma that emanates from it.
Yet as I shuffle deep, the rumble of a growl vibrates against my cheek. My eyes flare open.
Great Mother! A yelp escapes me as I realise I’m nestled into Elska like her cub, utterly surrounded by her heat and warmth.
‘Rose!’ Whether he was alerted to my awakening by my noise or by Elska, I don’t know, but Kyor is at my side within a heartbeat, though for a split second I struggle to believe it’s him I’m looking at.
Exhaustion is in every line of his body, from the sallowness of his cheeks to the grey bags beneath his eyes, and he has more than a two o’clock stubble gracing his usually clean-shaven jaw.
‘I’ve got you. It’s okay.’ He helps me sit up, but my head swims.
‘I don’t feel so good,’ I admit.
‘You’ve been out a whole day,’ Kyor confirms, trying to keep his voice even, like he hasn’t been worried out of his mind for me.
‘Caz?’ I ask.
‘I’m all right,’ she calls over from where she’s sitting by the fire with Benny.
Next to her – I blink just to make sure I’m not imagining it – are the two Quiet Ones.
When I’m certain my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, my gaze moves past them to the rest of the group: Loch who is sleeping and Ruben who is pacing nearby.
All of them are here. All of them are safe. Thank fuck.
As my head starts to steady, Caz comes over with a plate of food in her hands. ‘You probably need to eat and drink some. Thessa made you a broth, but we couldn’t manage to get you to drink much of it.’
‘Thessa?’ I ask.
The taller of the two Quiet Ones raises her hand. ‘And this is Stide,’ she introduces, pointing to her companion.
Thessa has my blade at her hip and the wrongness of that sets my teeth on edge. The dagger is mine – my inheritance, my last connection to my mother. There is no way Thessa is keeping it, but it’s not like I’m in any state to get it off her.
I can’t even think normally, let alone consider wresting the blade from her. ‘Right. Thank you for helping us with the Sannthrall.’
Thessa nods. ‘It was the right thing to do.’
I study the two women now that I have a little more time to take them in.
And there is a lot to take in. The hoods of their cloaks are full foxes’ heads that drape down their backs, allowing only a glimpse of their hair beneath – hair so bright, so absent of tone, that I’ve only seen the colour on a few people before, including myself and Kay.
Have they been stripped of their magic? Is that why it’s that colour?
Their eyes, too, are unusual: a pale yellow citrine hue that seems to glow in the darkness.
I’ve seen them before, I realise with a start – in a vision, where they were dancing … or fighting. I wasn’t quite sure which. The fox people.
As my eyes scan down their bodies, noting the dark tabards they wear, the spears they carry, and my gaze once again lingers on the dagger Thessa still has. My mother’s blade. My blade.
I grimace. I can’t let it go. And while I don’t have it in me to fight for it, I don’t need to. Besides, it’s not like they played fair in getting it from me in the first place.
‘Sorry, ladies, about that dagger …’
Perhaps it is foolish to reach for my magic so soon after what was surely magical exhaustion, but I can’t help myself.
The blade is mine. Thankfully, the magic comes instantly as I summon the vines from a nearby bush and send them outwards.
I don’t even give the woman enough time to draw breath.
The vines snap up around Thessa’s wrists, strong enough to squeeze the muscles to the point of pain, and yet she still reaches for the dagger at her side, grabbing the hilt and pulling the blade with her gloved hand.
Panic crosses Stide’s face as she darts to help her friend, but I send another surge of plant life tangling up her legs too, locking her in place.
It is, I admit to myself, a little too reminiscent of the Sannthrall itself, but needs must.
‘You have to understand, it’s got sentimental meaning,’ I say, finally feeling some strength returning.
To give Thessa her due, she doesn’t let go of the dagger easily, and her fingers are turning blue when Caz walks forward and pulls the hilt out of her grasp with a muttered ‘Sorry’.
Although Caz has barely taken hold of it when she drops it again.
‘Fuck! That’s hot!’
Stide sneers. ‘Why do you think Thessa is wearing gloves?’
Rather than responding to the Quiet One, Caz kneels and wraps fabric from her shirt around the hilt and brings it over to me. Only when it’s firmly in my grasp do I loosen the vines on the pair of Quiet Ones.
‘It’s not hot to your touch?’ Caz stares, her scholarly fascination taking control.
Apparently not. I remember now, Kay calling it hot, and Ruben, too. I dismissed their comments for one reason or another, but now I accept the truth. ‘No,’ I confirm. ‘It belongs to me.’
Stide’s yellow eyes flash with fury, and I ready myself for whatever magic they’re going to hurl my way, but nothing comes. Nothing but a hiss of rage.
‘You lied,’ she spits. ‘You lied to us. You said we could have the blade.’
‘And you did. I gave it to you,’ I reply equably.
‘You had it for a whole day, apparently. But I didn’t say you could keep it.
Be more specific in your bargaining next time.
’ As her jaw locks, I feel the most minuscule flicker of guilt.
‘I am sorry,’ I say honestly, ‘but this dagger is not something I’d trade. It is mine. My family’s.’
Their nostrils flare, but they don’t attempt to take it back. They’re not stupid. There are six of us – and a dire wolf – against their two. They would have to have some pretty spectacular magic to take us all on and win. And judging by our matching hair colour, I’m not convinced they have any.
Then again, they knew about the Sannthrall’s presence, not to mention how to subdue it with the dagger. Someone might make the same erroneous deduction about me and the colour of my hair, so I’ve no intention of letting my guard down just yet.
‘Now,’ I say, sheathing the blade back where it belongs, ‘I’m sure you’re going to have to repeat yourselves for my benefit, but who or what the hell are the Quiet Ones, and what the fuck happened to Caz, and why did the blade do that?’
‘That’s a lot of questions,’ Stide says snidely. ‘Why would you expect us to answer, let alone answer truthfully? You tricked us.’
‘And you tried to bargain with me while our friend was dying,’ I fire back. ‘I hardly think you can take the moral high ground right now. Do you?’
Stide sniffs in response, but Thessa stays silent. Morality matters to her, and she feels bad about their actions. That’s good to know.
‘You’re being foolish,’ Stide continues. ‘You should run while you have the chance. Any moment now, our vast numbers will be upon you.’
‘She’s lying,’ Caz says with quiet confidence.
Thessa’s eyes widen. ‘You’re a diviner of truth?’ She looks at Caz with renewed wonder. ‘What a blessing.’
‘It’s actually somewhat of a curse,’ Caz sighs. ‘People lie. A lot. Like Stide just did.’
‘Lies!’ Loch shrieks abruptly in agreement. His body jerks, eyes wide. ‘The Quiet Ones are lonely. So few Quiet Ones. So lonely. So little magic. So empty.’
Even beneath the fox mask, I catch their scowls.
‘So we’re not quite as outnumbered as you want us to believe,’ I say mildly. ‘With that in mind, I’ll ask you one more time. Who are you? What do you want with us?’
‘We have questions of our own,’ Thessa replies primly. ‘You answer ours. We’ll answer yours.’
‘What was that thing?’ Benny asks. ‘The tree? You’ve been giving us vague half answers all day. What was it?’
Thessa’s mouth tightens. ‘Tell us first where you got that blade from. One such as you should not have it.’
‘And why is that?’ I ask, interest piqued. What do they know of the weapon at my hip?
‘It is the Gods’ gift. For the Vind. The Gods’ chosen children.’
The Vind? I’ve never even heard of such a people. Then again, I hadn’t heard of the Quiet Ones before either. Maybe the Vind is their name for themselves?
‘A gift from the Gods, hey? That’s interesting, because I happen to have been gifted by the Goddess Etta herself in the recent Retterheld. So it’s no wonder the dagger is mine.’
My voice sounds confident, which truthfully is not how I’m feeling. The knife being left in my family’s possession pre-dates me becoming the gifted by decades. Which means what? That they had somehow decided I would be gifted before I was even conceived? The very thought of it makes my spine crawl.
Nobody likes to think of their actions as being predestined, predetermined. We each make our own choices in life – don’t we?
‘Who are you?’ I press.
Thessa frowns. ‘You already have our names.’
‘Who we are is more than the sounds by which we are known,’ I say impatiently. ‘Where are you from? And what magic do you possess? There are other Quiet Ones … so where are they?’
‘I don’t know,’ Thessa replies. ‘We have had to spread ourselves thin, trying to delay his return.’
‘His return? Whose?’ It’s my turn to frown, and I look to Benny and Caz. ‘Is it true what she says? That she doesn’t know where the rest of their people are?’
Benny presses his lips together. ‘I’m not sure.’ He looks her over again. ‘She’s afraid of something.’
Wanting a more definite answer, I turn to Caz, but she’s not looking at me. Instead, she’s staring at the women.
‘Caz?’ I ask gently.
She twists around to face me. Her cheeks pale. ‘The Sanning,’ she whispers, her voice cracked and raw.
Stide and Thessa stiffen visibly at the word, and Caz’s hand shakes as she lifts it to cover her mouth in disbelief.
‘The Sanning,’ she says again as her eyes drift back to the women. ‘That was who Rohan had me writing about. I knew he believed what he was saying, but—’ She cuts herself off.