Copyright

HarperVoyager

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018

Copyright © Tamora Pierce 1992

Map copyright © Isidre Mones 2017

Jacket design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018

Tamora Pierce asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008304072

Ebook Edition © August 2018 ISBN: 9780008304089

Version: 2018-09-11

PRAISE FOR TAMORA PIERCE

‘Tamora Pierce didn’t just blaze a trail. Her heroines cut a swathe through the fantasy world with wit, strength, and savvy. Pierce is the real lioness, and we’re all just running to keep pace.’

LEIGH BARDUGO, #1 New York Times bestselling author

‘Tamora Pierce creates epic worlds populated by girls and women of bravery, heart, and strength. Her work inspired a generation of writers and continues to inspire us.’

HOLLY BLACK, #1 New York Times bestselling author

‘Tamora Pierce’s books shaped me not only as a young writer but also as a young woman. Her complex, unforgettable heroines and vibrant, intricate worlds blazed a trail for young adult fantasy – and I get to write what I love today because of the path she forged throughout her career. She is a pillar, an icon, and an inspiration.’

SARAH J. MAAS, #1 New York Times bestselling author

‘I take more comfort from and as great pleasure in Tamora Pierce’s Tortall novels as I do from Game of Thrones’

Washington Post

‘Tamora Pierce and her brilliant heroines didn’t just break down barriers; they smashed them with magical fire.’

KATHERINE ARDEN, author of The Bear and the Nightingale

Dedication

To Raquel Wolf-Sister and Tas Horse-Hearted

who opened my heart to the songs of all beasts

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Praise for Tamora Pierce

Dedication

Map

Chapter 1: Girl with a Pony

Chapter 2: The Hawk

Chapter 3: Spidrens and Meditation

Chapter 4: The Queen’s Riders

Chapter 5: Wild Magic

Chapter 6: Magelet

Chapter 7: Buzzard Rocks

Chapter 8: Pirate’s Swoop

Chapter 9: Siege

Chapter 10: Listening Far Enough

Epilogue

Afterword

Read on for a preview of Wolf-Speaker: Book Two of the Immortals Quartet

Also by Tamora Pierce

About the Publisher

Map

CHAPTER 1
GIRL WITH A PONY

Each year, at the end of March, a great fair was held in Cría, the capital of Galla. Like thousands of others in the Eastern Lands, Onua Chamtong went there to do business: buying ponies, in her case. This year she had another transaction to make and was having no luck with it. By the end of her fifth day at the fair, it seemed she would never find the assistant she required. The prospect of taking her animals south, with no one to help, was an unpleasant one.

‘Excuse me – Trader Onua?’ The speaker was a girl, shy and country bred. ‘I heard you was hiring. I’m’ – she paused, then went on – ‘a fair hand with animals, all kinds.’ She waited as Onua looked her over: a girl in a green wool dress, skirts short enough to show leggings and boots. Brown curls tamed by a head-scarf fell to thin shoulders. A soft, full mouth said she was vulnerable; her chin was entirely stubborn. A quiver filled with long arrows hung on her back, a bow rested in her hand, unstrung.

‘Is that yours?’ the trader asked, pointing.

Blue-grey eyes flashed. ‘I’d not have the nerve to carry it otherwise.’

‘Hmph. String it.’ The girl hesitated. ‘Just what I thought,’ Onua jibed. ‘Whose is it, really?’

The girl brought a coiled string out of her sash. With ease she fitted it to one end of the bow and set it against her foot. Raising the free end of the string, she brought the other end of the bow down, hooking them together neatly. The bow strung and in her grip, she turned sideways to it, caught the string in two fingers, and drew it back to her ear in a smooth, practised gesture. Now Onua could see she wore an archer’s wrist- and armguards.

‘I’d put an arrow up,’ the girl said, gently releasing the string, ‘but I’d hit someone, surely.’

Onua grinned. ‘I’m impressed. I can’t draw a bow that big.’

The girl took the string off the bow, coiled it, and put it away. ‘Nor did I, at first. I keep this one limber, or I still couldn’t draw it.’

‘Crossbow?’ The question was out before Onua remembered, I don’t want to hire her – I want to send her home to her mama. She’s a runaway for sure.

‘Yes’m. We have—’ Something flickered in her eyes. She looked down. ‘We had bandits at home. I stood watch with the sheep, so I learned crossbow and longbow. And sling’ – a half smile appeared – ’not that I’m bragging.’

We had, Onua thought. Did she change it ’cause she wants me to think she’s been gone from home awhile? Or hasn’t she got a home?

Something looked around the girl, inspecting Onua with a large brown eye. It was a shaggy mountain pony, a steel grey mare. She was plump and well combed, and easily bore two packs.

‘Yours?’ The girl nodded. ‘How much would you ask for her?’ Onua motioned to a pen filled with ponies at her back. ‘I’m in the market.’

‘I can’t sell Cloud. She’s family – all the family I got.’ Again Onua saw a flash of sorrow that was pushed aside.

‘What’s your name?’ The K’mir stuck her fingers into a pouch filled with powder known as ‘eyebright’.

‘Daine, mum,’ came the soft reply. ‘Veralidaine Sarrasri.’

The eyebright made her fingers itch when Onua called on her magical Gift. ‘How old are you, Daine?’

‘Fifteen.’ An aura of red fire, visible only to Onua, flared around the girl’s face. The lie was a good one – she must have practised on the way, the trader thought wryly – but a lie nevertheless. She looked about thirteen.

‘Where are you from?’

‘Snowsdale, up north. About two weeks’ walk.’

There was no flare of red – she had told the truth. Onua sighed. ‘Are you a runaway? From home, or a bad master—’

‘No, mum.’ The soft mouth trembled. ‘I got no family – just Cloud.’

No red fire this time. Onua dusted the powder from her hand. ‘I’m Onua Chamtong, of the K’miri Raadeh.’

Daine looked puzzled. ‘The k-k – the what?’

‘The K’mir are a people to the east. Raadeh is the name of one of the K’miri tribes.’ Daine looked only slightly less baffled. ‘Never mind. You say you’re good with animals. C’mere.’ She led the girl to her pen. Inside, twenty-seven shaggy ponies in all colours and sizes milled around.

‘I buy horses. I had an assistant, but he got offered a better job working for a horse merchant here, and I wasn’t about to hold him back. If you hire on – and I didn’t say I’d hire you – you’ll help me take these south. It’s three weeks’ drive – if we don’t bog down in mud, if we aren’t hit by raiders, and if we go before all these people take the road to the next fair. It’ll be just you and me, and my dog, Tahoi. Why don’t you climb in and look ’em over? I want to see how you manage ’em.’

Daine glanced back at her mare, Cloud. ‘Stay put, and no biting,’ she ordered sternly, and clambered over the fence into the pen.

Poor thing must have been alone a long time, to be talking to a mare as if she could answer back, Onua thought. She sat on the fence rail to watch.

The ponies watched as Daine passed among them. Ears went back. Those close to her appeared to wonder which would do better: a bite or a kick.

When a yellow stallion, the king of the small herd, minced into place at her back, the girl spun and put both hands under his muzzle, lifting his head to stare into his face. ‘No, sir,’ she told him firmly. ‘I’ll not stand for any tricks. I may be human, but I’m not stupid.’ The stallion tried to rear. She forced him down, then blew gently in his nostrils, to teach him her scent. He shuffled, then fidgeted – then bowed his head in submission.

Horse Lords, Onua thought. She’s establishing domination over him and the entire herd!

In years of managing horses, she’d never seen the like. This particular breed was famous for its fiery nature (one of the reasons she purchased them for her employers). She had achieved peace – of a sort – with them using her strength, her wits, and bribes. All horse folk handled their animals that way. Only this child was different: Daine treated the stallion as if she were a pony herself, a dominant one.

She isn’t lying about her folks or running away – just about her age. If I let her go, she might get into trouble. There are too many predators around, looking for a pretty like this one. The road isn’t too safe – but what is?

She watched the girl move among the ponies, running her hands over each one. She was giving them bits of apple and sugar from her pockets. Onua was glad to see she could deal with the animals in a normal way. One display like that with the stallion was more than enough.

‘D’you ride?’ she called.

Daine came over to the fence. ‘Some. Mostly bareback, but I can use a saddle, and I know how to look after tack.’

‘What about hunting, fishing, tracking?’

The grin lit a face that was too thin and eyes that were too weary. ‘I do all that – had to, to get this far. I couldn’t trust folks on the road. Some looked like – bandits.’

As Daine climbed over the rail, the shadow was back in her eyes: grief, Onua decided, but anger too. ‘Tired of them already?’

The girl shook her head. ‘I’m getting an oil I have, and a swab. The strawberry has ear mites. They’re not too bad – if I get them now, he won’t spread them to the herd.’ She went to the grey mare, who was plainly sulking, and opened one of her packs.

‘How do you know you can trust me?’

Daine shrugged. ‘I don’t. How do you know you can trust me?’

‘Was that a joke?’ Onua’s voice was stern, but her eyes laughed. Her last two assistants had possessed no sense of humour.

Daine gave her a quick smile and climbed into the pen, a clay bottle and swabs in one hand. Onua watched, amazed, as the strawberry gelding trotted up to the girl. If someone had said that morning she’d see one of her charges willingly submit to an ear cleaning, she would have laughed herself sick.

I shouldn’t do it. She’s a baby. There’re all those rumours – no smoke without fire. Still, my magic will keep us safe at night, and she can handle a bow. ‘Daine!’ she called.

The girl had finished the gelding’s ears. She came over. ‘Yes?’

‘I’ll tell you right now – I’ve heard a lot of weird stories lately, about monsters in the wild, attacking travellers. Things out of legend, so folk say. I haven’t seen any myself, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. Are you sure you want to hire on?’

Daine shrugged. ‘I hear tales. I need work, mum. If I see monsters, I see monsters. My family was killed and my home burned by human ones.’

‘All right, then – here’s the job,’ said the K’mir. ‘You, me, and my dog take the herd south, like I said. I have the Gift, and I can shield our camp at night. It’s two coppers a day, two silver nobles as a bonus at the end. I pay all expenses, and we share chores. No drinking, no drugs. If you leave me on the trail, you’ll wish you died as a child.’ Daine giggled. ‘At the end of the road – we’ll see. We’re bound for the capital of Tortall—’

The girl’s face lit up. ‘Where a lady knight is the King’s Champion, right? And they let girls in the army? That Tortall?’

‘You heard the stories too,’ the K’mir murmured. ‘Well, they don’t let girls in the regular army, mind – just the Queen’s Riders. Why – have you a fancy to be a soldier?’

Daine shook her head. ‘Not me. But if they take girls for that, maybe they’ll let a girl be an ostler, or work around the camp, or some such.’ Her eyes were filled with painful hope.

‘As it happens, they do let girls work as ostlers – or at least, they let me. I’m in charge of the horses for the Riders.’

‘Oh, glory,’ the girl whispered. ‘I’ll do whatever you want, if you’ll take me on—’

Onua put a hand on Daine’s shoulders, touched by her eagerness. ‘We’ll see. If we don’t get on, I’ll make sure you have some kind of work. I won’t leave you stranded. Sound fair?’

Daine nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, Mistress Onua.’

Onua offered a callused hand. ‘Then shake on it. And stop calling me “Mistress”. My name’s Onua.’

Daine returned the woman’s firm grip. ‘Onua Chamtong, of the K’miri Raadeh,’ she said. ‘I remember.’

Onua smiled. ‘Very good. Now, will your Cloud mix in with the others?’

‘No reason not to.’ Daine removed packs and saddle from Cloud’s back.

‘Stow your things with mine.’ Onua pointed to a canvas-covered mound in one corner. ‘They’ll be safe – these ponies are better than guard dogs.’

Daine ushered Cloud into the pen and stored her packs with Onua’s. She finished in time to stop Cloud from biting the yellow stallion, and then from kicking a blood bay mare. ‘You behave,’ she ordered her pony. ‘I mean it.’

Cloud flicked an ear back, and lifted a hind foot experimentally. Daine leaned down and whispered in her ear. The mare snorted, then stood on all fours, looking as innocent as a summer sky.

‘What did you tell her?’ Onua asked, letting the girl out of the pen.

‘I said I’d sell her to the man that makes dumplings down the way.’

Onua chuckled. ‘That’s the threat my mother used on me. Look – I want you to meet my dog, Tahoi.’ She put her fingers to her lips and whistled two short notes. A large form surged over the rear wall of the pen and wound through the ponies, ducking hooves and teeth with the ease of long practice. Coming over the fence in another easy jump, he sat panting at Onua’s feet. He was as tall as his owner’s hip, and covered with curling grey fur.

‘He’s near big enough to be a pony himself.’ Daine offered her open palm. The dog rumbled in displeasure, and warily sniffed her fingers.

‘Tahoi means “ox” in K’mir. Careful – he’s a one-woman dog—’ Onua shut up. Tahoi’s plumed tail had begun to wave. The wary guardian of her stock turned into an eager-to-please pup that licked Daine’s hand, then stood to sniff her face. ‘He’s supposed to be a guard dog,’ Onua continued, frowning. ‘Not a pet. Not a dog who believes every human’s his friend.’

‘Don’t blame him.’ Daine looked up at Onua apologetically. Her fingers scratched Tahoi in a place he couldn’t reach, while his tail thudded in the dust on the ground. ‘Animals just take to me, is all.’

‘Hmph. Can you spare her, Majesty?’ the woman said to Tahoi. ‘I’d like to get some grub, saving your presence. And your new friend is coming with me. Guard!’ She steered Daine away from the pen.

At one of the cook tents littering the fairgrounds, Onua ordered a rich meal for them both. When it was over, they explored. After a while Daine’s eyes hurt from staring so much. Coming from a poor mountain village, she couldn’t believe the variety they found at every turn.

‘How are you fixed for gear?’ her new employer asked. She was eyeing a pair of boots in a leatherworker’s stall.

‘I’m fine,’ Daine assured her. Meeting the K’mir’s warning look, she insisted, ‘Really. It was too wet’ – she swallowed, trying to speak as if it were someone else’s farm that was attacked – ’too wet for our place to burn much, so I saved a lot. Clothes, boots, my sleeping gear. I really don’t need anything.’ Seeing the woman’s grey-green eyes remained suspicious, she raised a hand. ‘Swear by the Goddess.’

‘All right, then. Just remember, it’s my responsibility to keep you decently clothed and outfitted. I don’t want people saying I’m a skinflint.’

Daine thought of the huge meal she had consumed. ‘Just point them out to me, and I’ll set them straight.’

Onua chuckled. ‘Good enough.’

On their return, the K’mir raised a sleeping platform outside the pen. ‘We’d best turn in,’ she advised. ‘We leave an hour before dawn.’

Daine laid the bedrolls out, wriggled into hers, and took off everything but her shift under the sheltering blankets. ‘Onua?’

The woman was nearly asleep already. ‘Yeah?’

‘Thanks.’

They had a cold breakfast: fruit, cheese, and bread. Onua said little as they ate and packed. She split a pile of lead reins with Daine, indicating she was to connect half of the ponies into a string, while she did the same with the others. They worked quickly as the fair came to life and the air filled with breakfast smells. When the ponies were ready, Onua placed their packs on the first animal in each string.

‘Aren’t you going to put her on a lead?’ Onua pointed to Cloud, who stood free of the others, wearing only a halter and a cross expression. The mare snorted and shook her head.

‘She’ll be fine,’ Daine assured the K’mir. ‘She’s as good as a guard dog, that way.’

‘You know best,’ Onua said, dubious. ‘Let’s move ’em out.’

The K’mir led them away from the fairgrounds and the traffic coming in. They had reached open road when she called for a mid-morning break. Digging apples out of her pocket, she gave Daine one. ‘You eat this,’ she ordered. ‘I’ve more in a basket for the ponies. I should’ve warned you, by the way – I’m a real bear in the morning. It’s no good talking to me – I’ll only bite your head off. You didn’t take it personally, did you?’

Daine had begun to wonder if the K’mir regretted hiring her. She smiled her relief. ‘It’s all right. Ma always says’ – her lips tightened – ’Ma always said there was no living with me until lunchtime.’

‘You miss her,’ Onua said gently.

Daine twisted the stem off her apple. ‘Her, Grandda, our farm—’ Her face was grim. ‘They took my life, those bandits. I saved things, like clothes and food, but all my family was gone except Cloud. They wouldn’t even have left her, except she was with me and we weren’t there.’ She got to her feet. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’

‘To speak of it?’ asked the K’mir. Daine nodded. ‘You have to, just to bleed off the poison from the memory.’ The girl shrugged. ‘Well, it doesn’t have to be today.’ She peered at the sun. ‘We’ll be at Coolspring by noon – a village, good-sized. Let’s pass that before we stop again.’

If Onua and Daine were now well awake, so were their charges. They fussed at every turn. Luckily, many who passed them were traders who knew mountain ponies: they kept a respectful distance. Only Cloud, who seemed to realize she would go into a string the moment she misbehaved, walked meekly beside Daine. The only time she offered violence to a bystander was when he, or she, was too interested in how well the strings were tied together.

Daine worked on the ponies one by one, talking, pleading, cajoling. Repeatedly she explained why she wanted them to follow Onua, without making a fuss. One after another the ponies listened as she appealed to their better natures. Some people would have said these creatures had no better nature, but – as Daine told Onua – she had found most animals listened, if things were properly set out for them.

Onua had explained things to ponies and horses for twenty-eight years without the success this thirteen-year-old was having. How does she do it? the K’mir wondered, fascinated. They’re ponies, by all the gods. They’re wonderfully clever animals, but they don’t think, not the way people do.

Past the village of Coolspring lay a rest stop, one of the springs that gave the town its name, sheltered by elms. Picketing the animals, the two women sat down to share a meal of bread and cheese.

‘Tell me if you get tired,’ the K’mir ordered. ‘I can go for hours, once I get moving.’

‘I’m fine,’ Daine said. It was the truth. It was good to be in fresh air, headed away from the city. ‘It’s easier than it was coming all the way here. The roads were muddy, you know – with the spring floods.’

‘Ever been to Cría before?’

Daine shook her head. ‘Never saw a village bigger than Snowsdale, till yesterday.’ She sighed. ‘How can folk live like that, all mashed together?’

Onua shrugged. ‘City people. They’re different, is all. They look down their noses if you didn’t grow up penned in.’ Getting to her feet, she stretched. ‘Unless something goes wrong, we’ll make Wishing Hollow by dark – we’ll camp there. We’re making wonderful time, thanks to you.’

Daine looked at her, baffled. ‘Me?’

‘This is the fastest I’ve got clear of the fair in six years of trade. That’s your doing. You must have the Gift – though I never heard of it being put to such a use.’

Daine laughed. ‘Oh, please! I’ve a knack with animals, but no Gift. Ma—’ She stopped, then made herself go on. ‘She tried to teach me, but I never learned. I can’t even start a fire, and Gifted babies manage that. She was so disappointed. Wanted me to follow her path, I s’pose.’

Onua touched the girl’s hair. ‘Your mother will be proud no matter what path you take, Daine. I don’t know you well, but anyone can see that.’

Daine smiled at her. ‘Thanks.’

They sat quietly for a few moments, until Onua remembered something. ‘I saw you draw that bow of yours, but I don’t know what kind of shot you are.’

Daine shrugged. ‘I’m good.’

‘Mind giving me a demonstration?’

Daine got up and took her longbow from her pack. ‘Name your target.’ The wood was warm from the sun and bent willingly for the string. She drew it a couple of times back to her ear, loosening her muscles.

Looking around, Onua spotted a fence that would serve. It lay well within the range of such a powerful bow, but it wasn’t so close that Daine would feel insulted. Walking out to it, she fixed her handkerchief to a post with her belt knife and returned. ‘How about three arrows?’

‘Fair enough.’ Daine had already fitted one arrow to the string, and her quiver was on her back. Carefully she set her feet, and gently she brought the string back as she focused on her target. The arrow, when she loosed, flew straight and true. Two more followed it.

Onua gasped. All three arrows clustered neatly at the centre of her handkerchief. Their heads were buried so deeply she had to cut them loose.

‘I take it this is something else you have a “knack” for,’ she said when Daine came to help.

‘Grandda thought so.’ The girl shrugged. ‘It worked out for the best. His bones got to hurting him so bad he couldn’t even string a bow, so I brought in all our game.’

The yellow stallion screamed a challenge to a passing draught horse and reared, pawing the air. ‘Odd’s bobs!’ Daine yelled, exasperated. ‘Can’t a person take her eye off you for a moment without you acting up?’ She ran to the stallion’s head and dragged him back down to all fours, holding him until the draught horse walked calmly past.

Onua came up to them, smiling. ‘Time to get back to work.’

Well before dark, Onua led them out of sight of the road and into a grassy hollow sheltered by trees. It was plain other travellers stopped here: the fire pit was lined with stones, and a lean-to kept stacks of firewood dry.

‘Toss you to give the ponies a going-over,’ Onua suggested. ‘For ticks, stones, whatever. Winner gets to dig the latrine trench and catch fish.’

Daine considered. ‘I druther check the ponies.’

Onua grinned. ‘Wonderful – I feel like a bit of fishing just now.’

Smiling, Daine went to work. It made no sense to give the ponies a thorough grooming while they were on the road, but she got rid of the worst tangles and checked the animals’ hooves. The strawberry’s ear mites had to be treated again, and Cloud and Tahoi had picked up ticks in forays off the road.

The girl was finished when Onua returned with two fat trout. ‘Think this’ll feed us?’ the K’mir asked, holding them up.

‘More than. I’m so tired I couldn’t eat but a mouthful.’ Daine saw that Onua’s hair was wet and her face pink from scrubbing. ‘It’s safe to wash?’

‘If you make it fast.’

‘It’s too cold to be slow.’ She hesitated. ‘Need my help with supper?’

Onua waved her away. ‘Tahoi’ll keep watch for you.’

The water was very cold. Daine scrubbed quickly and jumped out, feeling deep respect for Onua’s courage. Supper – fish and a pot of spiced white cereal grains Onua called ‘rice’ – was hot and filling. They ate without talking, but the silence was a comfortable one.

After the meal, Daine washed up. The fire was banked; their beds lay on the ground, ready for slumber, when she finished. She got into hers with a sigh. It was warm, and the heavy pad underneath eased the day’s aches. As she watched, Onua got several pouches out and tied them to her belt.

‘I told you I had the Gift, right? Well, I’m going to place the wards now. Last call for the latrine.’

Daine yawned. ‘I’m set, thanks.’ She watched as Onua drew a circle around the camp, ponies and all, first in salt, then in water. Soft chanting came from the woman as she walked the circle a third time, calling on magic powers to guard its contents. Red fire spilled from her hand to follow the circle and complete it.

‘Ma did that,’ Daine commented sleepily when Onua finished. ‘She wasn’t very good with it, though.’ It was easier to speak of her mother when she was so tired. ‘Maybe she’d be alive now if she’d’a been better.’

‘Or not,’ Onua said, sliding between her blankets. ‘There’s always somebody with stronger magic. Lots of raiders have their own witch or mage. That’s why every Rider group has at least one member with the Gift.’

‘Tell me about the Riders. I only know they take girls. Aren’t they like the regular soldiers?’

‘Not exactly. The fancy name is “irregulars”. Tortall has a bad time with bandits, and the army’s too big and too slow. Bandits hit and run. To fight ’em you need to move the same way. The queen, Thayet, she started the Riders seven years back. The groups run six or eight Riders each, male and female, mounted on ponies. Right now there are six groups, posted all over Tortall. They live off the land, protecting the small villages from raiders.’

‘Who runs it?’

‘Queen Thayet is commander in chief. Her guard, Buri, handles day-to-day affairs, so she has the title “Commander”. A black man, Sarge, comes just under them. The King’s Champion you heard of, Alanna, she helps out.’ Onua looked over and saw that the girl was fast asleep. Smiling, she pulled up her covers and closed her own eyes.

The badger crawled in with Daine soon after that. Although he was big, he didn’t wake her: she was used to nighttime visitors. Without waking, she caressed the animal’s head. He sighed gratefully and slept too, his muzzle pressed into her palm.

She did notice him when she woke later and was careful as she sat up.

‘I tell ye, I saw ’em. Two strings of ponies—gold on the hoof down in Tortall.’ The speaker’s voice was rough and country bred.

Reaching for the crossbow beside her, Daine saw that Onua and Tahoi were also awake. The dog’s hackles were up, his teeth bared in a snarl, but he made no sound. Seeing her, the K’mir put a finger to her lips. Daine nodded, easing the bow onto her lap. Inside her bed her guest shifted nervously, quieting only when she rested a hand on his head.

‘If ye saw ’em, then where’d they go?’ Leaves rustled as men prowled the hollow around their campsite.

‘I’m no witch, to guess such things! It’s like they vanished off the face of the world.’

‘Shut up. They prob’ly found a farm, or kept movin’. Let’s get back t’ the rest.’ The new voice held authority; the others grumbled, but obeyed.

They had been gone some minutes before Daine relaxed enough to put down her weapon. Tahoi licked Onua’s face, his tail wagging.

‘It’s all right,’ Onua whispered. ‘Nobody can hear us if we’re quiet.’

‘That’s some protection,’ Daine breathed. ‘With Ma’s circles, you couldn’t get in, but you knew it was there.’

The K’mir grinned. ‘Now you know how I can take the road with just my assistant and Tahoi.’ She curled up in her blankets. ‘’Night.’

The badger grumbled as Daine settled, and walked in her dreams.

‘It’s about time I found you,’ he said. ‘Do you know how long I’ve been looking? I actually had to come into the Human Realms to get a scent of you!’

‘I don’t wish to seem rude,’ she apologized, ‘but why were you looking for me? I don’t believe we’ve met – have we?’

‘Not exactly,’ he admitted with an embarrassed snort. ‘You see, I promised your father I’d keep an eye on you. So I looked in on you when you were a kit, pink and noisy. Then when I looked for you again, you were gone. I forgot time passes differently in the Human Realms.’

If she had been her waking self, his saying he knew her father would have made her unbearably excited. Now, though, her dream self asked – as if it weren’t too important – ’Have you met my da, then?’

‘Yes, yes, of course. Now, see here – I’m not coming to the Human Realms any more than I have to. If you’re going to wander, we must be connected in some way.’ He looked at a paw and sighed. ‘I know it barely hurts and it grows back and all, but I still hate it. So messy.’ He began to chew at the base of one of his claws.

‘No, don’t – please!’ she protested. ‘I can’t think—’

The claw came off. He spat it into her lap. ‘There. Hang on to it no matter what. This way I won’t lose track of time, and I’ll be able to find you. Understand?’

She nodded, then gulped. A silvery mist gathered around his paw, and vanished. A new claw had appeared in the bed of the old one.

‘Now go back to sleep.’

Cold air on her feet woke Daine in the morning. Her guest, working earlier to leave the bedroll, had pulled it apart entirely. She sat up with a yawn and a smile. To think she’d dreamed of a badger who knew her father …

Her hand was locked around something – a large animal’s claw, or a semblance of one. Complete and perfect, it was made of shiny silver.

‘Goddess,’ she whispered.

‘Daine?’ Onua was dressed and cooking breakfast. ‘Let’s go.’

No time to think about it now, she told herself, and scrambled out of her bedroll. Because if I do, I won’t know what to think.

Later that day, she wove a thong to grip the base of the claw tightly, and hung it around her neck. Just because she wasn’t entirely sure of where it came from was no reason not to keep it close by – just in case.

CHAPTER 2
THE HAWK

A week later they crossed the River Drell into Tortall on a ferryboat. Watching the Gallan shore pull away, Daine searched her soul. I should tell Onua all the truth, she thought. (By then she had given her new friend the less painful details of her life, and had come to see Onua was right – it felt better to talk.) I should tell the rest – but won’t she turn on me, like they did? Maybe it’s best to keep shut. The madness, the scandal – it’s all back there. Maybe that’s where it should stay.

She went forward to look at Tortall as it moved closer. I could start fresh. It can’t be worse than home, with folk calling me ‘bastard’ and scorning me. Nobody here knows I’ve no father, and they don’t know about the other thing – the bad thing. They don’t need to know.

‘You worry too much.’ Onua ruffled the girl’s hair. ‘It’ll work out. You’ll see.’

Cloud butted Daine’s shoulder; Tahoi pawed her leg. Their concern and Onua’s gave her comfort. I’ll manage, she told herself as the ferry bumped the landing dock on the Tortallan shore. Silence is best.

The country beyond the crossing was a mixture of hills and wide valleys, some of it farmed and grazed, but most left to the woods. Towns here were back from the road, and traffic this early in the spring was thin. There was little to keep them from their usual routine of camp and march, riding the ponies, hunting for game birds or fishing for their supper.

The third day from the river brought rain, slowing them and the animals down before the sky cleared at day’s end. Both women were up late, getting mud out of shaggy coats and off their own skin and clothes.

It was the first time on that trip that no animal crawled in with Daine overnight. She slept badly, flipping back and forth, never quite waking or sleeping. Her dreams were thin and worrisome. She remembered only one:

The badger was in his lair, neatening up. ‘There you are. I’m glad to see the claw works so well.’

‘Excuse me, sir—’ she began.

‘No questions. Kits must listen, not ask. Pay attention.’ He squinted at her to make sure she was listening. ‘If you look hard and long, you can find us. If you listen hard and long, you can hear any of us, call any of us, that you want.’ Rolling onto his back, he added, ‘The madness was to teach you something. You should mind the lesson.’

She woke a little before dawn. The sky was grey and damp, the air sour.

‘Onua.’ When the woman only stirred and muttered, she went over and shook her. ‘I think trouble’s coming. Last time I felt this way, a rabid bear came out of the woods and killed the blacksmith.’

‘A rabid bear?’ The K’mir yanked on her clothes and Daine followed suit. ‘Goddess, how many of those do you see in a lifetime?’

‘One’s more than enough.’ She rolled up her bed and fixed it to her pack. The animals were restless and ill tempered. Tahoi paced the camp, his hackles up. He stopped often to look down the road, only to resume pacing.

‘Maybe it’s another storm?’ Onua suggested over breakfast.

‘I don’t think so.’ Daine gave her barely touched porridge to Cloud. ‘My head aches – not aches, exactly. It’s – itchy.’ She sniffed the breeze, but picked up only the scent of water and plants. ‘The wind’s not right, either.’

Onua looked at her thoughtfully, then doused the fire. ‘Let’s go.’ She hitched the ponies to lead reins while Daine secured the packs. ‘There’s a fief on the other side of this next valley, near a marsh. If need be, we’ll ask for shelter. I’d prefer not to.’ She strung her curved bow. ‘Lord Sinthya doesn’t like the queen; he loathes the Riders. Still, we can wait a storm out in his barns, particularly if no one tells him we’re there. If we’re caught in the marsh, we’re in trouble. I don’t have any marsh craft.’

Daine warmed her longbow and strung it. The quiver’s weight on her back made her feel better as they took the road. Past the next ridge she saw a wide, shallow valley filled with reeds and water, with nowhere to hide.

By the time they reached the centre of the green expanse, the hair was standing straight out on the back of her neck. Where are the frogs, and the birds? she wondered when they stopped for a breather. I don’t even see dragonflies.

Something made her glance at the wood that bordered the far edge of the marsh. ‘Onua!’ She pointed as a bird shot from the cover of the trees. It was black and hawk-shaped, flying crazily, as if drunk.

Shrieks, metallic and shrill, tore the air. Eight giant things – they looked like birds at first – chased the hawk out of the cover of the trees. Immense wings beat the air that reached the women and ponies, filling their noses with a stink so foul it made Daine retch. The ponies screamed in panic.

Daine tried to soothe them, though she wanted to scream too. These were monsters. No animal combined a human head and chest with a bird’s legs and wings. Sunlight bounded off talons and feathers that shone like steel. She counted five males, three females: one female wore a crown of black glass.

Onua gave a two-fingered whistle that could be heard the length of the valley. When the monsters turned to find the source of the noise, their quarry dropped into the cover of the reeds and vanished. The monsters swept the area, over and over, trying to find the black hawk, without success.

‘Look at them,’ Onua whispered. ‘They use a grid pattern to search by – they’re working that part of the marsh in squares. They’re intelligent.’

‘And they can’t land easy on level ground,’ Daine pointed out. ‘Those claws aren’t meant to flatten out. They have to fly – they can’t walk.’

When the creatures gave up, they turned on the women.

Daine watched them come, her bow – like Onua’s – ready to fire. The attackers were smeared with filth. When they spoke or smiled, she saw razor-sharp teeth caked with what she knew was old blood. Halting over the road, they fanned their wings to stay aloft. Their smell was suffocating.

‘We almost had the motherless spy,’ one of them snarled.

‘But you had to interfere,’ another said. ‘Never interfere with us.’ It lifted its wings above its head and stooped. The others followed.

‘Daine, fire!’ Onua shot: her arrow struck the first, hitting a wing with a sound of metal on metal, and bounced off. Daine struck a man-thing square in the throat. He dropped with a cry that brought sweat to her face.

Onua and Daine fired steadily, aiming for the flesh of heads and chests. A female almost grabbed Daine by the hair before Onua killed her. Cloud got one by a leg, and Tahoi seized its other foot. Together pony and dog tore the monster apart. Birds – herons, bitterns, plovers, larks – rose from hiding places to fight the creatures, blinding some, pecking others, clogging the air so the enemy couldn’t see. Many paid for their help with their lives.

The glass-crowned one was finally the only monster alive. She hovered just out of Onua’s range, one of the K’mir’s arrows lodged in her shoulder.

‘Pink pigs!’ she snarled. ‘How dare you defy me, maggots! You filth!’

‘Look who’s talking,’ Daine shouted, sliding an arrow onto her string. She lowered her bow, wanting the creature to think she was done. ‘Your ma was a leech with bad teeth,’ she taunted. Onua laughed in spite of herself. ‘Your da was a peahen. I know chickens with more brains than you!’

The queen screamed and dropped, claws extended. Daine brought the bow up, loosing as she reached the best point in her swing. Her arrow buried itself in the queen’s eye as Onua cheered.

Daine had another arrow on the string and in the air, but the queen pulled away. Blood dripped from her ruined eye. If she felt pain, she ignored it, hovering well out of bow-shot, her good eye furious.

‘Ohhh, I’ll remember you, girlie.’ The hate in her voice forced Daine back a step. ‘Your name is on my heart.’ She looked at Onua. ‘I’ll return for you two ground crawlers. You belong to Zhaneh Bitterclaws now.’ She launched herself into higher air and was gone.

‘I can’t believe it.’ Onua sounded as if she were talking to herself. ‘The rumours said there were monsters abroad, but these? Where did they come from?’ She went to examine the body of one of the creatures, the stink so bad she had to cover her nose to get close to it.

Limping, Daine followed. She was unhurt, but she felt battered and cut and torn in a thousand places.

A chickadee lay in the road. She picked it up, to find a wing was attached by only a bit of skin. Tears rolled down her cheeks to fall on the dying bird. All around her, birds lay in the rushes, bleeding, dead.

‘I’m sorry, little ones,’ she whispered. ‘You should’ve stayed hid.’ Her temples pounded. Stripes of black-and-yellow fire crossed her vision. Her ears filled with a roaring sound, and she fainted.

Onua saw her fall. The bird that had been in Daine’s hand jumped into the air and zipped past, nearly missing the K’mir’s nose. In the marsh, she heard a rush of song. Birds took off, clumsily at first, as if they were stiff. An owl that lay in the road moved, then flew away as she stared. She was positive that the bird’s head had been cut half off.

Shaking her head, she went to the fallen girl. As far as she could tell, Daine was unhurt. With a grunt the K’mir levered her onto a shoulder, surprised by how light she was. ‘You need to eat more,’ she told her burden as she carried her to the ponies. Cloud trotted over to nuzzle Daine, worry in every line of the pony’s body.

‘I don’t suppose you know a place where we can get off the road,’ Onua asked, half jesting, never thinking these animals would understand her as they did the girl. Cloud trotted into a nearby stand of reeds. Just beyond her, Onua saw a clearing, floored in solid ground.

This was food for thought. Onua followed Cloud. The remainder of the ponies followed her, Tahoi bringing up the rear.

Coarse hairs tickled Daine’s face. Opening her eyes, she saw nothing but Cloud’s nose.

‘Let me up.’ Her voice emerged as a croak. ‘I’m fine.’ She wasn’t really – her whole body ached – but the pain that had knocked her out was over.

‘Swallow this.’ Onua brought over a cup of water. Drinking it, Daine tasted herbs. A tingling filled her veins and left her feeling much improved. The only sign of the pain that had knocked her down was mild stiffness.

‘I didn’t faint ’cause I’m a baby or anything—’ she began, afraid the K’mir would be disgusted by her weakness. She struggled to sit up, and finished the water.

‘Don’t be silly.’ Onua gave her a silvery feather. ‘Don’t touch the edges,’ she warned. ‘They’re razor sharp.’

It was metal, etched and shaped like a feather. If it was steel, as it seemed to be, it was paper thin, impossible to bend. Moreover, it felt wrong, as the sight of the creatures had felt wrong. If she knew nothing else, she knew nature. Such creations did not belong in the world: seeing them made her feel wobbly and sick. ‘What were those things? Do you know?’

‘I’ve heard tales, but – they aren’t supposed to exist, not here. They’re called Stormwings.’ She heard awe and fear in Onua’s voice.

‘What are Stormwings?’

‘The Eaters.’ Onua wrapped the feather and put it away. ‘But they’re legends. No one’s seen them for three, four centuries. They lived on battlefields, desecrating bodies – eating them, fouling them, scattering the pieces.’ She crouched beside Daine again. ‘Listen – I need to leave you and the ponies for a while – I hope not too long. I can’t tell you why.’

‘Then I’ll follow.’ Daine was comfortable enough with her now to be blunt. ‘This is a marsh, remember? Quicksand, mud bogs, snakes – you told me you don’t know anything about marshes.’

‘I can’t help that. What I must do is important. You stay put—’

A picture of the Stormwings as they’d first seen them flashed into Daine’s mind. ‘It’s that hawk, isn’t it?’ she asked, and Onua looked away. ‘That black one. You tried to call him, but he couldn’t make it, so he hid in the reeds. Now you want to go after him. Why is a bird so important?’

Onua’s eyes glittered with annoyance. ‘Never you mind. He is, that’s all – he’s more important than you could imagine. If something happens to me, take the ponies to the Riders. Tell Buri or Sarge what happened—’

Daine saw how she might repay some of what she owed this woman for taking her in. ‘I’ll go.’

‘Out of the question.’

She retrieved her crossbow and quiver from the packs. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s only a few hundred yards out. How much trouble can I get into? Besides, I know about bogs. And I can find lost animals.’ If she waited, the K’mir would find a good reason to keep her back. She saw a game trail leading into the reeds and took it. ‘I’ll yell for Tahoi if I get stuck,’ she called.

‘Daine!’ There was no answer. ‘When I was that age, I listened to my elders,’ Onua muttered, conveniently forgetting she had done no such thing. She grabbed Cloud’s rein as the pony tried to follow her mistress. ‘No, you stay here. And don’t try to argue.’ She tied the mare’s rein into a string for the first time since they’d left the fair, and settled down to wait.

The trail took Daine to a pond. She skirted it, always making for the spot where the monsters had left the wood. A grouse darted out of the brush. Following it, she walked a trail that lay on firm ground to reach the trees at the marsh’s edge. There she sat on a rock, wondering what to do next. If the bird was alive, it had come down somewhere nearby to hide from the Stormwings.

It was nice, this green wilderness. The scents of growing things filled her nostrils; the sounds of animals and plants waking from their winter sleep filled her ears. What had the badger said, in her dream? If you listen hard and long, you can hear any of us, call any of us, that you want.

Surely listening wouldn’t bring on the madness. She wasn’t trying to be an animal; she just wanted to hear them. Definitely she’d taken advice from worse people than badgers in her time.

Besides, if the hawk was alive and hurt, it might be thrashing or crying its pain. She’d hear it, if she listened.

She’d have to be very quiet, then.

She settled herself and slowed her breathing. Her blouse itched; she eased it. A burn throbbed on a finger; she put it out of her mind.

A breeze fanned the tips of the reeds, making them sigh.

Two plops ahead: a pair of mating frogs. She had no interest in that.

A rustle to her left, some feet behind: a pair of nesting ducks. Didn’t people think of anything else?

A gritty noise at her side was a grass snake, coming up to sun. It was nice on the rock, the warmth just perfect on her face and on the snake.

There – left, closer to the trees. She frowned. It didn’t sound like a bird – like the hawks and falcons back home. She felt dizzy and befuddled, almost like the time she had swiped a drink of her mother’s home-brewed mead.

That yip was a fox, who had found a black bird. A large one.

Daine headed in his direction. The fox yipped again when she almost made a wrong turn. She found him next to a large, hollow log. The hawk had concealed itself inside.

‘Thank you,’ she said. The fox grinned at her and vanished into the reeds while Daine looked at her new patient. ‘Clever lad, to think of hiding there,’ she murmured. (And since when did hawks ever think of concealing themselves?) ‘Come on out – they’re gone.’ She put her hands into the log’s opening, praying she wasn’t about to get slashed.

The bird waddled forwards, easing himself onto her palms. Moving very slowly, she lifted him out and placed him on top of his hiding place.

He stared at her, beak open as he panted. One outspread wing seemed broken in two places, maybe even three. Her hair prickled at the back of her neck. Anyone less familiar with hawks might have taken this bird for one: she could not. He was too big, and hawks were not solid black. His colour was dull, like velvet—there was no gloss to his feathers at all. He wasn’t wrong as those Stormwings were wrong, but he was not right, either.

She cut reeds for splints. ‘I’m from Onua—Onua Chamtong of the K’miri Raadeh,’ she told him. ‘You recognize the name?’ She didn’t expect an answer, but she knew a kind voice was something any hurt creature responded to. ‘I have to splint that wing. It’s broken.’ She cursed herself for not having bandages of any kind, and cut strips out of a petticoat.

‘It’ll hurt,’ she warned. ‘Try not to peck me, or we’ll never get you fixed.’ Ignoring his gaze, she gently spread the wing. The hawk cried out only once. That was another strange thing, she thought; other birds had savaged her for less pain than she was giving this one. She secured the outspread limb onto its reed framework, feeling him shake under her hands. ‘You’re being a fine, brave lad,’ she crooned, securing the last cotton ties. ‘Your ma’d be fair proud of you – wherever she is. Whatever she is.’

Repairs made, she slung the crossbow on her back. ‘I’ve got to carry you,’ she explained. ‘Try to keep still.’ When she gathered him up, taking care not to bump the wing, he trembled but didn’t bite or slash. ‘You’re the oddest bird I’ve met in my life,’ she murmured as she followed the trail back to the road. ‘Heavy too.’ She was sweating by the time she found Onua. ‘His wing’s busted.’

‘Horse Lords be praised, you found him!’ The relief on the K’mir’s face was scary, as if he were a friend or something, Daine thought. Onua lifted the hawk from Daine’s arms, examining him with delicate fingers. Somehow Daine wasn’t surprised to see that he was as calm with Onua as he’d been with her.

‘If we move the packs onto one of the gentler ponies, he can ride on them,’ Onua suggested. ‘We have to get well away before we camp.’ Daine nodded and shifted the packs to a mild-mannered chestnut gelding. On the road, the bird rode quietly, panting without making any other sound.

They left the marshy valley and entered the wood, moving on after dark. Onua lit the way ahead with her magic. They had walked for hours before she took them off the road, onto a small path.

Here she lit a torch and gave it to Daine. ‘Farther up there’s an open shed for drying wood. It’s big enough to shelter us and the ponies.’ She dug out the materials she used to work her magic. ‘Get a fire going. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’ She went back to the road, a bag of powder in her hand. Tahoi started to follow: she ordered him to go with Daine.

‘I think she wants to hide our trail,’ Daine told the dog. She led the pack pony, and the others followed obediently. ‘But why? The monster – what’s her name? Zhaneh Bitterclaws – can she see in the dark? Apart from revenge, why follow us?’ She glanced at the hawk. Meeting his eyes directly still made her head spin. ‘Not for you, surely.’

The bird shuddered.

The shed was big, with three walls to keep out the wind. Moreover, it had a fire pit inside, and a well outside. With relief she freed the ponies, watered them, and fed them grain from the extra stores.

Tahoi had brought in three rabbits that afternoon. As soon as the fire was going, Daine skinned and gutted them. Two went on the spit for her and Onua; Tahoi got half of the third. Cutting strips from the remaining half, she offered it to her patient. He turned his head away.

Perhaps he hadn’t got the scent. Daine waved it in front of him. Again he turned his head aside.

She sniffed the meat: it was no different from what Tahoi crunched so happily nearby. She laid it on the pack in front of the bird, having moved his travel arrangements to the floor of the shed. The hawk picked the morsel up in his beak and threw it away.

Getting the rejected meat, she offered it to Tahoi. The dog ate it and returned to his bones. Planting her hands on her hips, Daine scowled at the bird. She’d heard of captive animals refusing to eat, but such a thing had never happened to her.

‘There’s many a hawk would be happy for a nice bit of rabbit,’ she told him, not even realizing she sounded like her ma. ‘Now, I’ll give you another piece. Don’t go throwing that away, for I won’t give you any more.’ She offered a fresh strip to the bird, who sniffed it – and turned his head. She placed it before him, and he threw it to Tahoi.

‘He won’t eat,’ she told Onua when the K’mir joined them. ‘What’s the matter with him? I never had an animal that wouldn’t eat for me.’

The woman crouched near the hawk, her grey-green eyes puzzled. ‘Let me try. Maybe it’s ’cause he doesn’t know you.’

‘I’ve fed plenty of animals that never met me first,’ Daine snapped, cutting another strip of meat for Onua. The hawk refused it as well.

Onua scratched her head. ‘Try cooked meat. I have to ward this place. There’re armed men all over the road, searching.’ She walked outside the shed.

‘For us?’ Daine asked. Onua shook her head and began the now-familiar spell. ‘Not for you, surely,’ the girl whispered to the hawk. Cutting meat off the spit, she cooled it with water and offered it to her patient. He sniffed it for a while, but refused it in the end.

‘Maybe he’s sick,’ Onua suggested as she ate. ‘I broke my collarbone once, and I was queasy for a day or two.’

‘That’s shock.’ Daine rested her chin on her knees. ‘I s’pose that might be it.’

‘He’s not just any creature.’ Onua finished her meal. ‘He may be a little strange to care for, Daine. Just do your best – please?’

The girl awoke in the night to hear a quiet murmur. Peeking with a half-closed eye, she saw that Onua sat with the hawk, talking softly to him. And Ma said I was fair foolish with animals, she thought. Rolling over, she went back to sleep.

They moved on in the morning. Searchers passed them on the road, men on horseback and men afoot, but none appeared to see the bird riding in state on ponyback. ‘I can’t throw fire or heal,’ Onua told Daine, ‘but when I hide a thing, it stays hidden.’

For three days they pushed on. The hawk’s eyes still would not focus, and his balance was poor. After some debate with herself, Daine lightly bound his claws to the pack he rested on. He didn’t seem to mind, which bothered her still more. Even the mildest sparrow would have fought the ties.

Her patient worsened. He refused any and all meat, raw or cooked. Their third day together she offered him raw egg and then cheese. He ate both, to her joy, but vomited it up later. That night she woke to hear Onua chanting a spell over him, but it didn’t seem to help. The K’mir still talked to him about human things – road conditions, the fair in Cría, the doings of the Queen’s Riders.

Once, after meeting the bird’s eyes, Daine walked into a ditch. Another time she fell over her own feet. After that, she avoided his gaze and resented it. Why couldn’t she look at this bird? And why did she not feel connected to him, as she felt with other creatures?

His wing did not heal. The fourth night she stayed up with him, coaxing water mixed with honey into his beak. It did no good. The fever she had fought to prevent set in and began to climb.

She woke Onua sometime after midnight. ‘He’s going to die. Not today – tomorrow, maybe. I hate losing one I’ve nursed!’ To her shame, she felt tears on her cheeks and wiped them away with an impatient hand. ‘He’s not right! He’s not like any bird I ever met, and I can’t fix him! Can we stop at a village or town, and find a sorcerer who might—’

Onua shook her head. ‘Out of the question.’ When Daine opened her mouth to argue, the woman said, ‘There are reasons. Important ones.’ She tugged at her lip, and came to a decision. ‘Get some rest – I’m calling for help. Horse Lords willing, somebody will be in range.’

Daine was too exhausted to protest or ask questions. It was hard even to crawl into her bedroll. The last thing she saw was Onua, kneeling before a fire that now burned scarlet, hands palm up in a summoning.

She slept until dawn, and Onua greeted her cheerfully. ‘I got lucky – help is closer than I thought. Eat something, and you might want to wash. There’s a bathing pool behind that hill. They’ll be here around noon.’

‘They who?’ Daine’s voice came from her throat as a croak.

Onua shook her head.

‘Wonderful. More secrets. My favourite,’ Daine muttered grumpily as she found towels and soap. Since the day was warm, she washed her hair and took extra time to scrub every inch of her skin. Why hurry? she thought, still feeling grouchy. They won’t get here till noon—whoever they are.

The hawk’s eyes were closed when she returned, and he was shivering. She warmed small rocks and wrapped them in cloths – towels, scarves, handkerchiefs. Carefully, talking to him the whole time, she cocooned bird and rocks in a blanket, hoping to sweat the fever out. After an hour of the extra warmth, he took some heated water and honey when she coaxed.

Onua had worn herself out with her magical efforts, and slept all morning. Daine had to content herself with frequent trips to the road, looking for the promised help. Cloud and Tahoi followed her, as worried as she was.

The sun was at its height, covered by thickening clouds, when she saw movement to the east. She raced back to camp. ‘Onua, there are people coming.’

The K’mir grabbed her bow and arrows; Daine got hers. They went to the road to wait. It wasn’t long before Onua said, ‘It’s my friends. The ones in white are in the King’s Own. They answer directly to King Jonathan.’

Daine gaped at the company that approached. Mail-clad warriors on beautiful horses rode in four rows, their white, hooded capes flapping grandly at their backs. The earth shook with the pounding of their steeds’ hooves. Before them came a standard-bearer, his flag a silver blade and crown on a royal-blue field.

Beside him was a full knight in gold-washed mail, his gold helm mirror bright. He bore a lance; on his left arm was a red shield with a device like a gold cat rearing on its hind paws. The knight’s horse was larger than those of the white-caped warriors, though not as large as the chargers normally used by those who wore full mail or plate armour. It was as gold as the cat on the knight’s shield, with a black mane and tail.

Together the company made a picture out of legends. ‘Oh, glory,’ whispered Daine.

Reaching Onua, the knight halted the warriors with a raised hand. His horse refused to stop and walked up to butt his head against Daine’s chest.

‘You beauty,’ she whispered, running her hand along his mane. ‘Oh, you pretty, pretty thing.’

Laughing, Onua went to the warhorse’s head and gently made him back up. The knight peered down at the K’mir through his open visor. ‘Are you camped here?’ Onua nodded, and he turned to his company. ‘Hakim, this is it.’

A brown man in the front rank of the white-caped riders nodded and called out instructions. The result was instant activity: men dismounted, giving their reins over to a few of their number while others removed packs from their mounts and from the spares. Within seconds they were off the road, erecting tents to share the clearing with the ponies and Tahoi.

The knight secured the shield and helm to his saddle. Dismounting, he gave the reins to one of the others, then stripped amethyst-decorated gauntlets from his hands. ‘I should’ve changed to leather,’ he complained. ‘My back has been one whole itch the last mile.’ He grinned at Daine. ‘The outfit looks nice, but it’s not very comfortable.’

Daine was very confused. Out of the saddle, the knight was two whole inches shorter than she was, and built on stocky, not muscular, lines. His cropped, coppery hair was tousled from being inside a helmet. Amethysts winked at his earlobes, stones that matched the colour of his eyes.

‘My wits have gone begging,’ Onua said. ‘Daine, this is Sir Alanna of Pirate’s Swoop and Olau – the King’s Champion. Alanna, this is Daine. Wait till you see what she can do with animals.’

Daine stared at the hand offered her, then into purple eyes. ‘The champion? The knight they call “the Lioness”?’

‘Don’t tell me,’ Alanna said. ‘You expected someone bigger.’

Daine took the offered hand. Remembering her patient, she asked, ‘Can you help? I can’t fix ’im at all.’

Onua took the champion’s elbow. ‘Alanna’s a healer and a sorceress – if she can’t come up with something, no one can.’

‘Aren’t you going to be sorry if I can’t?’ the knight asked as Onua steered her towards the ailing hawk.

Daine unwound the bird from his wraps. ‘He won’t eat anything but a little honey and water,’ she explained. ‘Not meat or fish. And he’s dizzy all the time.’

The purple eyes looked at her sharply. ‘How would you know that?’

Daine met that gaze squarely. ‘I just do. I’ve—’

‘“A knack with animals”,’ Onua chorused along with her, and grinned.

Alanna lifted the bird with a care for the splinted wing. The hawk blinked, looked at her – and buried his head against her chest. ‘He knows me. Good.’ She carried him to a tent the warriors had set up, and went inside.

‘Wait here,’ Onua told Daine. ‘Don’t let these men bully Tahoi or the ponies.’ She followed the knight inside.

Daine realized she ought to picket the strings so the smaller horses wouldn’t disturb the big ones. Tahoi stuck close to her as she worked, and Cloud was on her best behaviour. The warriors smiled at her as they set up more tents and built cook fires. A handful went to the nearby river with fishing lines in their hands. She would have liked to go too, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask these businesslike Tortallans.

‘Great merciful Goddess!’ The shout came from the tent where Alanna and Onua had taken the hawk. ‘Of all the gods-cursed, simpleminded—’

Daine gaped. The man the knight had called Hakim smiled. ‘The Lioness has a temper,’ he told the girl. ‘Sometimes it gets the better of her.’

The knight stamped out of the tent. She had discarded mail for breeches and a white shirt. At her throat a red gem burned like a coal in the fire. ‘I can’t see—’ Her purple eyes lit on Daine. ‘You, girl – come here!’

Tahoi growled, bristling. He didn’t like the knight’s tone.

Alanna stared at the dog, then smiled. ‘I’m sorry. Daine, would you come here, please? I think I need your help.’ Steering the girl into the tent, she said, ‘Onua says you found him under – unusual conditions.’ The hawk lay on a man-size cot, his eyes wide and frightened. ‘How?’

There was something here that pounded on her ears, making her nervous. ‘Honest, Your Ladyship—’

‘Alanna,’ was the firm interruption.

She thought of calling the champion, the only lady knight in living memory, by her first name, and winced. ‘I listened for him, is all. I sat down and just – listened.’

‘Would you do it for me now, please?’

Daine swallowed. ‘But he’s right there, mum. Lioness.’

‘Turn your back to him, if that helps.’ Alanna fiddled with the red gem at her throat. ‘Listen for him exactly as you listened back then.’

Listening’s fine, Daine thought nervously. You only listened before, and had no trouble. And the badger said it was all right. Well, then!

Closing her eyes, she emptied her mind, letting her breath slow until she couldn’t hear it. She concentrated on her ears. Outside, Cloud chewed on a clump of grass, thinking she ought to check on Daine, alone with strangers. The gold warhorse shifted; he wanted to run some more.

There! A strange and distant voice, one that sounded like no animal she knew. That had to be the hawk. Was he muttering to himself?

‘I hear him.’ That sleepy voice was hers. ‘He’s a prisoner. He can’t get out. But he’s just on the bed—’

‘Hush.’ Purple fires played inside her eyelids. ‘Call him, Daine—with your mind. His name is Numair Salmalín.’

‘Alanna – maybe Arram’s better.’ That was Onua, sounding distant. ‘He’s only been Numair for eight years – he’s been Arram all his life.’

‘True. Call to him as Arram, Daine.’ The fires evened into a steady purple light, warming her face like the sun.

‘Why—’

‘Call him.’ The knight’s voice was gentle, but firm.

Daine sighed. ‘Arram Salmalín? Arram – come on. You’re too far off. It’s all right, Arram – it’s safe—’

Something behind her snapped, breaking her concentration. She opened her eyes as wooden sticks hit the tent wall in front of her: the hawk’s splints. ‘Now look at this,’ she scolded, picking them up. ‘His wing won’t get any better that way.’ She turned to show them the evidence.

The hawk was gone. Onua pulled a sheet up to cover a large, naked man.

He smiled drowsily at the three of them. ‘Can I have something to eat?’

Daine’s jaw fell open. ‘Where did he come from?’

Alanna bent over the newcomer, peering into his eyes. Onua grabbed the girl’s elbow and steered her out of the tent. ‘Explanations later,’ the K’mir said. ‘There’s a lot to be done for him still.’

‘Onua, where’s my hawk? Where’d that man come from?’ Her knees shook.

Onua put a hand on Daine’s mouth. ‘Hush. No more questions. I’ll explain everything – later.’ She went back into the tent, pulling the flap tightly shut behind her.

‘Later,’ Daine muttered to herself. ‘Wonderful. Hawks disappearing, men appearing – why not? Later.’ She stamped off to look after the ponies, who at least would tell her things and not wait for any ‘laters’.

CHAPTER 3
SPIDRENS AND MEDITATION

Hedgehogs woke Daine as they wriggled into her bedroll, shaking in terror. It wasn’t the controlled fear they felt around hunters, but the wild panic that made them run before a fire. She eased out of the covers. ‘It’s all right,’ she whispered. ‘Stay here.’

She dragged on her clothes and boots. She felt it now, heaviness in the air and in her mind—not like the Stormwings or the rabid bear, but there was a flavour in it that reminded her of the winged monsters. In the camp around her, the men slept quietly – no snorers like Grandda. Onua was mumbling in her sleep. Tahoi was not with her or the ponies.

‘Stay,’ Daine told Cloud, who wanted to follow. She fitted the string to her bow and checked its draw as she looked around. A light burned in the Lioness’s tent. The other one, where the man who’d been a hawk lay, was dark.

The wood outside their camp was thick with fear. Tiny beasts dug as far into burrows as they could. The big ones were gone. An owl sitting overhead was almost mindless with terror. That was bad: owls didn’t scare.

Tahoi sat at the edge of the trees, nose to the wind. When Daine rested a hand on his shoulder, the dog flinched. ‘What is it?’

He knew only that it was bad, and it was coming.

‘Stay with the ponies. Guard them.’ Tahoi whimpered a protest. Waiting for trouble to reach him was hard; better to hunt it out. ‘Go on.’ He obeyed, reluctantly.

A sentry nearby raised a hand in greeting. Looking past him, Daine saw another. ‘Do you hear anything?’ she asked. ‘I think something bad is coming. Something wrong.’

‘I hear nothing.’ It was Hakim. He didn’t take his eyes off the woods beyond. ‘Go back to your sleep.’

There was no sleeping, not now. Checking the ponies, Daine found they were afraid too. Beyond them the horses were alert, watching the trees like sentries. The warhorse pawed the air: he knew danger was close. Wanting to fight it, he pulled his tether to see if it could be yanked from the ground.

‘Not yet,’ she said, patting his withers. ‘Watch. Wait.’ She walked towards the forest.

‘Don’t go alone.’

Daine wrenched around and lost her balance. A strong hand grabbed her elbow and raised her to her feet. It was the Lioness, wearing a shirt, breeches, and boots. The red gem at her throat glowed steadily; a naked sword lay in her right hand.

‘Easy,’ the knight cautioned. ‘What brings you out here?’ They walked to a small clearing almost thirty feet away.

Daine took a deep breath and made herself calm down. ‘There’s something close by that isn’t right. I can’t explain better’n that.’

The Lioness scanned the trees all around them. ‘I feel it too.’ She tapped the gem. ‘This warns me of trouble, sometimes.’

‘Look.’ Her ma had said she had an owl’s nightsight. That was how she saw the rabbit in the clearing, when someone else would miss it. Kneeling to lift the body, she found it was still warm.

White light – Alanna’s magic – appeared over her hands. The knight touched the body with a palm and felt its warmth, then touched the red drops at the rabbit’s nose. She sniffed her fingers. ‘Blood? Its heart burst—’

‘It was scared to death.’ Daine was sure of it. Gently she lay the dead creature atop a nearby stump. ‘There’s something else, Lioness. The big animals – there isn’t a one within a mile of this place right now. Listen.’

The knight doused her light and obeyed. ‘Nothing’s moving out—’

A bat darted between them, chittering a warning. Startled, the knight and the girl jumped back – and a rope that glowed a sickly yellow green dropped into the space where Alanna had been standing.

Noise overhead made Daine look up as she put an arrow on the string. A monstrous spider hurtled down at them. She shot it before she even knew what she fired at. A man screamed above; black fluid fell onto her hand, burning like acid. She put two more arrows into the thing and jumped aside when it hit the ground.

Alanna was shouting a warning to the camp. Daine was about to wipe her hand on a leaf when something moved on the edge of her vision. She leaped out of the way and the Lioness moved in, as smoothly as butter. Her sword flashed once – a powerful cut sliced two of the near legs off a new attacker – then twice, beheading the thing. It happened so fast Daine wasn’t quite sure it happened, till Alanna dragged her out of the way of the monster’s death throes. Knight and girl waited, breathless, for a moment or two, to see if another giant spider would appear.

‘I don’t think there are more,’ Daine said at last. ‘It felt – wrong – out here, before. That’s almost gone now.’

Many-jointed legs moved, and she knew the one she’d shot was alive. Gulping down nausea, she drew her dagger and walked around in front to kill the thing – cutting off its head was best.

She had thought they were spiders, almost as big as she was, with bodies dressed in dull black fur. That was bad enough, until she saw this one from the front. Head and neck were human – its teeth as sharp and pointed as a giant cat’s. It screamed with a man’s voice, enraged at seeing the knife.

Her mouth dropped open; a cry of fright and repulsion came out as a strangled croak. Her knife dropped from numb fingers. No wonder these had felt like Stormwings in the night. They were just as wrong, an eerie mating of animal and human that had no reason to exist.

‘Great merciful Goddess.’ Alanna came up behind her. It made Daine feel better to know the paleness of the knight’s face wasn’t due entirely to the light she had called so they could see. ‘Have you ever heard, or—’

‘Never.’ She turned her back on it – let it die slowly – and found a log where she could sit, shuddering in horror. Grandda had told her stories about monsters, human-headed and spider-bodied, named spidrens. A brave man hunted them best at night, he’d said: their webs glowed in the dark.

A hand rested on her shoulder. ‘Little girl, your ancestors are proud tonight.’ It was the sentry, the man Hakim. ‘You are the best archer I have ever seen – better even than the Lioness.’

Alanna nodded. She knelt beside the thing, examining it with a stick rather than touching it herself. ‘We’re lucky you sensed them coming, Daine.’

The girl swallowed, thinking, You couldn’t pay me to touch that, even with a stick. ‘The hedgehogs woke me. They didn’t know what was out there. I could feel something wrong was close, but I didn’t think it’d look like – like this.’ Wincing as the knight pulled the thing’s head back by the hair—it was dead now – she added, ‘Grandda told me stories about spidrens, but he said they were killed, ages and ages ago.’

‘Not killed.’ Hakim’s voice was steady, but his face glowed with sweat. ‘They were imprisoned in the Divine Realms four hundred years ago, by the greatest of shamans.’

‘You mean they’re gods?’

‘Immortals and gods aren’t the same. They just live in the same place.’ Alanna dusted her hands. ‘Like the Stormwings, Daine. They were shut into the Divine Realms at the same time, along with a great many other creatures. Griffins, dragons, and so on.’

Daine swallowed: there were more of these? What if they were loose too, escaped from the prison where they’d been locked for so long?

‘Horse Lords.’ Onua had found them. ‘Lioness, what—’

‘They’re called spidrens.’ The knight’s voice was almost matter-of-fact. ‘Goddess knows how many of us they would have killed and dragged off to munch on if your Daine hadn’t been alert.’

‘You killed one too,’ Daine reminded her. She went to the clearing’s edge and listened to the woods beyond, just in case. All around she heard creatures stirring, large and small, as they resumed their night’s business. I don’t know if I’d ever come out of my burrow again, she thought.

Remembering an obligation, she glanced behind her. Hakim and Onua were going over the spidren, using sticks. Most of the camp had come to watch, and to marvel. One of the soldiers was vomiting at the edge of the clearing, which made her feel better. At least she hadn’t thrown up.

She faced the trees where the bat had fled after warning them. ‘Thanks, wing-friend,’ she whispered. ‘Thank you for both of us.’ In the darkness ahead, a bat squeaked in reply. Daine smiled and went back to the humans.

‘It’s over,’ she told Alanna. ‘The animals are coming out.’ She felt suddenly exhausted; the burn on her hand throbbed.

Onua put an arm around her. ‘We’ve both had enough excitement. Come on.’ She steered her to their fire. ‘Are you all right?’ She hissed in sympathy when Daine showed her the burn, and got her medicines. Daine barely remembered having the burn cleansed and bandaged, she was so tired. The pain gone, she got into bed.

‘You’re certain you’re all right?’ The woman was plainly concerned.

Daine smiled at her. ‘I think so.’ The hedgehogs snuggled in around her once more. ‘I’ll have nightmares, for sure.’

‘Me too,’ Onua sighed. ‘At least we’re alive to have them.’ She eased into her own bed.

‘What of him? The hawk – the man?’ Daine pointed at the patient’s tent.

Onua smiled. ‘Master Salmalín slept through the whole thing. He’ll be mad as fire when he hears too. Spidrens are more his line than ours.’

Daine said shyly, ‘Why didn’t you tell me the truth? About the hawk?’

A sigh came from the other bedroll. ‘His shape-shifting – it’s a secret. Only a few people know, and we’re not supposed to tell. It isn’t that I don’t trust you – I do.’

‘He’s a spy?’

‘Only sometimes, when the king’s spymaster can’t send anyone else.’

‘He was just supposed to get well and fly off, and I’d never know.’

‘That was the plan.’ There was a rueful note in Onua’s voice.

‘I know now.’

‘Yes. You planning to tell somebody?’

Daine thought about that. ‘You just said it’s a secret, didn’t you? I won’t tell.’

‘Good. Now go to sleep.’

No one left the camp by the river the next day. The men of the King’s Own burned the dead monsters and searched the woods for more. The Lioness and Onua sat with their patient all morning. In the afternoon they summoned Hakim and another soldier who carried a writing desk.

Daine kept out of the way of the men. She wasn’t used to being noticed and greeted by so many people. Her caution did not extend to their mounts, of course. Once she’d cared for her ponies, she looked at the big horses. Her favourite was Alanna’s mount, the young stallion who had greeted her so happily the day before. She examined every inch of him, crooning praises into his ear.

‘I think the feeling’s mutual.’

Daine jumped – once again the Lioness had come up unheard. She grinned at the knight. ‘He’s a beauty.’

‘His name is Darkmoon.’ The stallion lipped Alanna’s breeches pockets. ‘He’s spoiled rotten.’ Fishing a lump of sugar out, she fed it to him. ‘His grandam was my first horse – a fine mare, true to the bone.’ Giving Darkmoon another sugar lump, she added, ‘You saved my life last night.’

Daine blushed. ‘You saved mine.’ Purple eyes are very unnerving when they look at you, she thought. Or is it that she’s got so much Gift it leaks over to all she does?

‘Where did you learn to shoot like that?’

‘My grandda taught me. Carved me that bow too.’

‘You’d think, your size, you’d only be able to manage a smaller one.’

Daine shrugged. ‘I’ve always been a fair shot.’

The woman snorted, but her eyes never left Daine’s face. She toyed with the gem around her neck. ‘Three times you shot overhead and hit a mark that moved, in the dark. That’s more than “fair” shooting.’

Daine shrugged again. ‘I practise a lot.’

Alanna grinned. ‘I’ll stop. I didn’t mean to interrogate you. I’ve been so busy getting Arram’s story out of him that I forgot I just wanted to say thanks. You saved my life, and the life of one of my best friends. Arram wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t nursed him. I’ll remember it.’

Daine swallowed. ‘It was no trouble—’

Alanna took her hand. ‘If you need anything, come to me. A place to stay, money, work – I don’t care. If I’m not around, go to my husband.’ Startled, Daine looked at Alanna’s ring finger and saw a wide silver band. ‘He’s the baron of Pirate’s Swoop. He’ll do anything for you I would.’

Daine gulped. A King’s Champion in debt to her? An offer with no limits, and she to apply to the lady or her baron husband? People like her had no business bothering the great and wealthy! And if Alanna knew the truth about her, about what she’d done once, she’d hate Daine. She’d have to.

The knight must have seen refusal in her face. ‘Promise me.’

Daine wondered if there was any way to get out of it. Alanna had the look of someone who wouldn’t let this go, however. ‘I promise, Lioness.’

‘Alanna,’ Onua called from the tent. ‘We need you for a minute.’

‘Coming,’ the knight replied. ‘By the way – can you wield a sword?’

‘Me? Gods, no!’ she said, shocked. A sword was a weapon for nobles!

The Lioness grinned. ‘I shouldn’t be glad, but I am.’ Seeing Daine’s puzzlement, she explained. ‘If you were as good with the sword as you are with a bow, I couldn’t take the competition.’ She clapped Daine on the shoulder and returned to her patient.

The next day everyone rose at first light, Onua and Daine from habit, the others from necessity. ‘You’re staying here?’ Alanna wanted to know.

Onua spooned porridge into a bowl and gave it to her. ‘Just for today – give Arram a little more time before we go west. How about you?’

‘I’ll see the local magistrate, now I have Arram’s information,’ Alanna explained, drizzling honey into her bowl. ‘Once I get a writ of arrest from him, Sinthya’s mine.’

‘So that’s why you were so near when I called for help,’ said Onua. ‘Springtime you’re usually at Pirate’s Swoop. You were waiting for Arram?’

Alanna nodded. ‘He has proof now that Sinthya is dealing with Carthak.’

Onua smiled grimly. ‘I knew it!’

The knight frowned. ‘I’m sending word to the king, to tell him about our visitors last night, and the Stormwings.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t understand why these immortals are reappearing now. We’ve had reports from all over Tortall, and from our neighbours as well. Also, I don’t like it that they were on hand to chase our friend when he escaped.’

‘You don’t think it was a coincidence?’ Onua asked. ‘Or does Sinthya have an arrangement with those – things?’

Daine winced. The idea of humans welcoming such creatures was chilling.

Alanna sighed. ‘I don’t know. That’s one of the questions I’ll ask His Lordship – when I arrest him. In the meantime, I leave you to your travels. Don’t let Arram overdo things. And it might be best if he kept from shape-shifting for a while, not that I think he’ll have the strength to try.’ The knight finished her breakfast and got to her feet. ‘Time to ride.’

With the consent of the man who tended Darkmoon, Daine brought the saddled horse to his mistress and held him as the Lioness mounted. This time the knight wore a leather jerkin studded with metal rings, instead of her mail. Seeing Daine look at it, she said, ‘I drew it from our spares. They always bring one in my size. It doesn’t look as nice as the mail, but it’s more comfortable.’ She offered Daine a gloved hand to shake. ‘I’ll see you again – if not at the palace, then later on. Take care of my friends, and take care of yourself.’

Daine returned the woman’s firm grip. ‘Safe journey, Lioness. Give that Sinthya man a few lumps for me.’

Alanna laughed. ‘I hope to do just that.’ She looked back: the men of the King’s Own were in the saddle. ‘Forward!’

Daine, in awe, watched them go. This was what she’d dreamed when Onua said they were going to Tortall. Well, some things are different, she thought as the riders retreated from view. Pulling the badger’s claw out of her shirt, she polished it with a thumb. She’s shorter than I expected. And I never thought she’d swear, or make jokes. She’s a legend, sure enough, but she’s so human.

An idea made her jaw drop: if she’s a legend, and a hero, then anyone could be a hero. Tucking the claw back into her shirt, she ran back to camp. If anyone might be a hero – could I? she asked herself, and smiled. No, not me.

Still, she mulled it over as she started on a pile of reins that needed mending. Onua joined her at their fire with leatherwork of her own. They worked quietly until she heard her friend say, ‘Look who’s up.’

Their patient stood in front of his tent. Someone – Daine assumed one of the men – had given him a shirt and breeches, as well as a pair of boots.

She stared up at him. He was five inches over six feet in height, with broad shoulders and a well-muscled body. His mass of coal black hair was combed back and tied into a horse tail to show a face that was dark and sensitive. He moved with the ease of a giant cat as he sat on a log beside Onua, but Daine suspected that he hadn’t always been so graceful. As a boy he must have resembled a stork, all elbows and knees. In his late twenties now, he had grown into his looks, and he seemed completely at home with himself.

‘How’d you find a pair that fits?’ Onua pointed at his feet with the awl she’d been using on her tack. ‘There’s tea in the kettle, and a clean mug right there.’

His lips parted to reveal white teeth in a shy smile. ‘Thanks.’ He poured and blew gently on his tea to cool it. ‘Alanna witched them so they’d fit.’ He regarded his boots with a wistful grin. ‘Nobody else had a pair even near big enough.’

‘What about your own magic?’ Onua asked.

‘I’m dry for the moment. Tapped out.’ His voice was midrange for a man’s, warm and a little hesitant – nice to listen to, Daine thought. She kept her eyes away from him as she wrestled with her leatherwork.

A pair of large hands came into her field of vision to hold the strap while she set the final stitches.

‘Thanks,’ she whispered, blushing.

‘You look different.’

Startled, she looked up into long, shadowy eyes. ‘What?’

He smiled. ‘You were a lot bigger.’

She grinned in spite of her shyness. ‘Seems to me you was a bit smaller, now I think of it.’

The strap was fixed. He gave it back and returned to his seat on the log. ‘I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. You’re called Daine?’

She nodded.

‘I’m glad to meet you, Daine. I’m Numair Salmalín.’

‘I thought it was Arram.’

His eyes flicked to Onua and back to her. ‘Arram’s my boyhood name. I go by Numair now.’

Daine took the hint. ‘The honour’s mine, Master Numair.’ Then, because she had to know, she asked, ‘Why didn’t you change back?’

‘I was stuck.’

‘Stuck?’

‘When Sinthya caught me, his mage fed me drugs. I panicked, and shape-shifted. I didn’t remember I was full of all the drugs it takes to knock out somebody my size.’

‘You’re lucky they didn’t kill you,’ Onua pointed out.

‘You’re right. By the time you found me, I couldn’t tell ground from air any more. The food you offered? I didn’t know it was food. Not that I was able to keep anything down.’ He sipped the tea. ‘It’ll be a long time before I take hawk shape again.’

‘That’s why you had funny eyes,’ breathed Daine. ‘And that’s why you made me dizzy.’

‘I wanted to ask you about that. Onua says you got sick, disoriented. I can’t understand how. She says you don’t have the Gift—’

‘Odd’s bobs!’ Daine snapped. Would all her new friends harp on that one thing, like Ma? ‘I don’t see why this Gift is so grand. It comes and goes. You can’t do too much at once, and you need all kinds of rules. It’s more trouble than it’s worth.’ She got up. ‘But whenever I turn round, somebody asks if I have it. I’m good with animals – isn’t that enough?’ Furious, not knowing there were tears on her cheeks, she stamped off into the woods.

Numair looked at Onua. ‘What did I say?’

The K’mir sighed and put down her work. ‘Her mother was a hedgewitch.’ (She meant someone with basic Gifts, taught by other hedgewitches, never hoping to be more than village healer-midwives.) ‘She and Daine’s grandfather were killed by raiders in January. She wanted Daine to have the Gift, not just whatever she has with animals. Fool woman kept testing her, as if she thought the girl would develop it overnight. I’d better go after her.’

‘No – when she cools off, I’ll go. You and Alanna were right. She has real power. Not the Gift, though.’ He tapped a pair of twigs together, looking thoughtful. ‘It’s wild magic, pure and simple. She’s brimming with it. I’ve never seen a human with so much.’

‘You felt it then.’

He smiled. ‘I felt it when I was a bird, half-crazy and dying.’

Onua sighed. ‘Be careful with her, Arram. She’s hurting.’

‘I will.’ He rose, unfolding his length with a groan. ‘Use Numair, will you? I know you trust Daine, but there’s no telling who else might overhear. I still have enemies in Carthak who’d like to know where I am.’

Onua made a face. ‘You’re right – Numair.’

He grinned. ‘Come on – what great sorcerer has a name like Arram Draper? I have to have a name to fit my calling, don’t you think?’

‘All mages are Players at heart, I swear. Can’t do magic unless you have all kinds of robes and props and a big audience to cheer you.’ She waved him off and returned to her work, smiling.

Numair found Daine greeting a woodchuck, and stayed in the trees to watch. The girl lay on the ground, her eyes on a level with the chuck’s. The animal stood on his hind legs, chattering to her. She giggled, then offered a hand: the chuck snuggled against it for a moment. Then he chirped a farewell and trotted off into the bush.

Numair came forward slowly. ‘He seemed to have a lot to say.’

Daine was thinking about the chuck, how nice he was after the monsters two nights before. ‘Oh, it’s the usual spring talk. Freshening up the burrow, getting nice-smelling leaves. I told him where to find some wild mint.’ Her memory returned, and she felt her cheeks get hot. ‘Master Numair, I—’

He smiled. ‘No offence taken – if you stop calling me “Master”. If I’m to help with the ponies the rest of the way, we may as well use first names.’

‘Is Onua cross with me? For losing my temper?’

He shook his head. The motion popped open the tie that held his black locks, and it fell. ‘Gods bless it …’

Daine came to help him look. By the time they found the tie, she’d forgotten to be nervous with him. ‘It’s easier if you wet it before using it on your hair,’ she explained as they returned to camp. ‘When it dries, then it shrinks.’

‘Good advice. Your hair gives you trouble?’

‘Oh, Goddess, my hair’s so dratted thick I don’t even bother with ties.’ She giggled suddenly. ‘This is a very strange talk we’re having.’

He grinned down at her. ‘Boys worry just as much about their looks as girls do. We only hide it better.’

‘Seriously?’ she asked, delighted. Living with only Grandda and Ma, away from the males of the village, she’d begun to think young men were totally alien.

‘Seriously,’ he assured her. ‘You should see the lotions I put on my hair to get it to behave.’ He winked at Onua when they reached the campfire.

Onua and Daine spent the next day exercising the ponies and practising hand-to-hand combat, something Onua said a woman alone should know. Numair dozed, mended his spare shirt, or did exercises with the arm that had been broken. ‘Is he up to the road?’ Daine asked during one of his naps. She kept her voice low – he was stretched out under a nearby tree. ‘He maybe should ride, but he’s too big for the ponies.’

‘We’ll take it easy,’ the K’mir replied. ‘Alanna laid a slow healing on him, to fix the arm and build his strength. She said in two or three days he’ll be fine.’

‘Did you know him, from before?’

‘We’re old friends.’ Seeing the look on Daine’s face, Onua said, ‘Not that kind of friend! He goes for shapely blondes, and I like a man that likes horses. No, our hawk took pity on me when I didn’t know anyone but the queen and Buri. If he likes you, he’s the best of friends. Horse Lords help you if you get on his bad side.’ Seeing that Daine looked puzzled, she explained, ‘He is the most powerful sorcerer in Tortall.’

Daine stared. A boyish man who talked hair-ties? Looking over, she saw a butterfly hovering over Numair’s long nose. ‘Him?’

Onua chuckled. ‘Yes, him. It takes a powerful Gift to shape-change.’

Numair opened his eyes. ‘You’re talking about me. I can tell.’

‘He’s vain, too,’ Onua said loudly. ‘He takes as much time to dress for court functions as any lady. Which is bad enough, but then he ruins his clothes sitting on the grass to watch meteor showers.’

‘But that’s my good side,’ protested Numair. ‘You really should tell her some of my faults.’ He paused, then added, ‘Then again – please don’t. I forgot you actually know my faults.’

Daine laughed. She could see the rest of the trip would be fun.

The adults were arguing about protective circles when she began to think of supper. It wasn’t fair to let Onua hunt all the time. Like her predator friends, Daine ate meat, taking care to make her kills swift and clean. Now she got hooks and line, and told the adults where she would be. There was a big tree on the riverbank where she could sit and mind her lines in comfort, and Onua had a very good way of preparing trout.

It wasn’t long before her lines were baited and set in the deep pool under the tree. With the hard part done, she watched the sky and daydreamed, rousing herself only to greet the animals who came to say hello. Cloud found a nearby patch of clover and grazed, keeping her company.

Tahoi joined them, looking disgusted. He lay down where Daine could easily scratch his ears. Onua and Numair were doing the sitting thing, not talking or working or paying attention to him. It bored him silly.

‘What’s the sitting thing?’ Daine asked.

The dog showed her an image in his mind: Onua, seated with her legs crossed, hands resting on her knees, eyes closed. To that picture he added Numair, doing the same thing. A shimmering, pearly light gleamed around each of them, rippling over their faces.

‘What’s that?’ Daine asked him. ‘That light, there?’

Tahoi didn’t know. It was a thing some humans had and others didn’t.

Magic, Cloud said. Your dam had it, and some of the others back home. Not so bright as these two – more like a glitter. But it’s magic, all right.

Onua only does the sitting thing with humans that have the light, Tahoi commented, and sighed.

The girl smiled. ‘Find a stick – I’ll play with you. Not here, though – I don’t want to scare the fish.’ Tahoi wagged his tail and hunted for a stick that wouldn’t hurt his mouth. ‘Cloud? Do I have the light inside?’

No, the mare replied. The light’s only for humans. You may look like a human, but you aren’t. You’re of the People: the folk of claw and fur, wing and scale.

‘Impossible,’ the girl said flatly. ‘Look at me. I’m pink, my fur’s patchy, I walk on two legs. I’m human, human all over.’

On the outside, the pony insisted. Not inside. Inside you’re People.

Tahoi brought a stick, and Daine went to play with him. Cloud was joking, of course. She was human. Ma would have told her if she weren’t.

They left their camp the next day. Onua set an easy pace, stopping twice in the morning to rest. Numair kept up without appearing to tire. Catching Daine’s eyes on him once, he thumped himself on the chest and said, ‘When the Lioness puts a healing on a man, he stays healed!’

‘Does your ma know you’re this silly?’ she demanded tartly.

He nodded, comically sad. ‘The few grey hairs she has on her head are my doing. But’ – with an exaggerated change of mood – ’I send her plenty of money, so she can pay to have them dyed!’

‘I hope she beat you as a child,’ Onua grumbled.

The day passed quickly. Numair and Onua told stories about the people they knew at the palace. The man even juggled for her, a most unmagelike feat. By the time they made camp, she felt she had known him for years.

Building their fire, she ran into trouble. No matter what she did with flint and steel, the wood was too damp to catch. At last she coaxed it into a tiny flame and held her breath.

‘How does it go?’ he asked over her shoulder, and the flame went out.

‘Gods bless it!’ she snapped.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Oh, they must’ve had rain here yesterday. Everything’s damp.’

‘Sit back.’

She did as she was told, and the tinder burst into flame. She had to put large sticks of wood on it fast, before the fire used up the tinder. ‘But you didn’t point, or make circles, or chant anything—’

He shrugged. ‘Some people need those things. I don’t.’

She gasped at his arrogance. ‘Well, excuse me for breathing!’

His laugh was full throated and made her grin. ‘What – did they have to enact fire-making rituals before anything would burn, where you came from?’

Her spirits dropped. ‘Things burned easy back home,’ she said flatly. ‘Real easy.’ She’d been having a good time while her family lay in the ground. Grabbing the shovel, she went to dig the latrine.

Teeth dug into the mage’s elbow, making him yelp. He looked down at his attacker, Cloud. ‘Stop that, or I’ll light a fire under your tail.’ The mare squeezed a little harder and released his arm.

‘It was going so well.’ Onua was grooming the ponies. ‘She laughed.’

Numair rubbed his elbow. He’d got off lightly – Cloud had only barely nicked the skin. ‘She’ll laugh again.’

Daine kept to herself, and the adults left her alone, talking quietly. When cleanup was done, they did the sitting thing. It was as Tahoi had shown her: with eyes closed and legs crossed they sat, hands on their knees, breathing as if they were asleep. In fact, Daine went to sleep watching them.

That night it came to her that Ma and Grandda probably wouldn’t mind if she had fun now and then. They’d been partial to fun, making berry strings or playing catch with the bread dough. In her packs were two of the dancing puppets Grandda had made for her birthdays: the horse and one that looked just like Ma. The others had been ruined, but she had saved these.

She got up in the morning with caution and sent the raccoon and the marten who had spent that night with her on their way. She hated apologies, but if Onua and Numair were angry, she would make some.

Luck was on her side. Their grouchiness seemed to be normal morning grouchiness; all they wanted to do was drink their tea, eat their food, and get moving. Daine let it go at that. If they weren’t angry about how she’d behaved, why remind them?

They made good progress that day. Once supper and cleanup were done, Numair stretched. ‘Let’s go, Onua. You won’t improve without practice.’

Daine knew what came next. ‘What’s the sitting thing?’ They looked at her blankly. ‘You know – what you’re going to do now.’

‘Meditation,’ Numair said. ‘It clears the mind, and rests it. If you have the Gift, meditation helps your discipline.’ His eyes were thoughtful as they rested on her. ‘Would you like to learn?’

‘I don’t have the Gift.’ Was he going to start on that?

He shrugged. ‘It’s not only for the Gifted. I told you, it rests the mind. It helps you get a – a grip on the way you think.’

‘It helps you decide what you want,’ Onua added. ‘And how to get it.’

Daine scuffed her foot in the dust. ‘Is it hard?’

Both of them smiled. ‘You won’t know till you try,’ Numair pointed out.

Daine shrugged and sat as they did, tailor-style. ‘Now what?’

‘Hands on your knees. Sit straight. Close your eyes. Let the thoughts empty out. For tonight, that’s enough. Just let your thoughts go.’

Daine heard Tahoi sigh. Now he had no one to play with.

The next morning they weren’t far from their camp when riders overtook them on the road: Alanna and the men of the King’s Own. Daine was startled to see that the Lioness, so friendly before, was now pale with fury. Darkmoon was as angry as his mistress. He pranced and fidgeted until Daine went to his head. He calmed slowly under her hands.

‘He’s gone,’ the knight told them. ‘From the looks of it, he fled the minute he knew you were safe. Curse him! Those dungeons of his—’

‘I know,’ whispered Numair. He looked suddenly tired.

‘I don’t understand,’ Onua protested. ‘You searched?’

‘We did.’ Alanna rubbed her neck. ‘His servants claimed Stormwings came, with a box, like a sedan chair. They flew off with him in it.’

‘Then they can be talked to,’ Numair said. ‘They’re intelligent.’

‘Sure they are,’ Daine said. ‘They talked to Onua and me in the marsh.’

‘She’s right,’ the K’mir told them. ‘And they searched for Numair in patterns after they lost him.’

The Lioness sighed. ‘Lovely. More fun. All right – we have to see the king. Come along as soon as you can now. Be sure to ward your camp at night!’

‘We’ll do fine,’ Numair told her. ‘See you at the palace.’

The knight and Hakim nodded, and within a few moments the company was galloping out of sight.

Four mornings later Onua and her companions topped a rise, and Daine thought her eyes would fall from her head. Before them a river halved a valley that cupped a walled city and more houses than she could count. At the heart of the valley three bridges linked the northern and southern banks, and roads entered the city from every angle. In the west, the city broke through its wall to climb a long slope dotted with estates and temples.

Above everything stood a huge castle shielded by high walls. Its towers, flying bright-coloured flags, shone in the early sun. A small dome placed among them glowed silver like a giant pearl. Black dots like ants climbed a broad, white-paved road from the city below, to scatter before the walls and stream in through several gates.

‘That’s the palace,’ Numair said. ‘Home of the most unusual royal couple in all history and their peculiar court.’

‘I don’t think “unusual” and “peculiar” are the right words,’ protested Onua, and Tahoi barked agreement.

‘Do you live there?’ Daine asked the man.

He shook his head. ‘I live south, along the coast. They have rooms for me here, though.’ He looked at Onua. ‘Press on?’ She nodded.

Their road took them around the city until they reached a bridge over a deep moat. Here the palace wall was only ten feet high; the gate was a simple affair of wood and iron. Inside lay a small town, its air scented with molten copper, pine, cows, and baking. All this, Numair said, supported the palace. Daine shook her head in awe.

Guards in maroon and beige waved them across the bridge. Inside the gate, Numair pointed to the palace. ‘I go that way – I need to report in.’

Tears stung Daine’s eyes. You knew he’d leave sometime, she scolded herself. This is it. Don’t be a baby. He’s got important things to do!

A big hand patted her shoulder. ‘Just for now,’ the man said quietly. ‘I’ll see you again soon.’

Onua grinned when he kissed her cheek. ‘You just can’t wait to lay hands on your books again. I know that look in your eye.’

‘She does too,’ Numair admitted. ‘Take care of our Daine.’ He waved and headed towards the palace, hands in his pockets.

‘Come on,’ Onua told her. ‘It’s this way.’

Following her out of the gate’s inner yard, Daine saw more wonders. Around them soared the levels of the palace, with wings and turrets in many styles telling of additions over time. She saw more glass in a look than she’d seen in her life. Her nose smelled flowers, both plain and exotic; her ears were filled with creaking wagons, shouting people, and the clang of metal.

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