When he turned, he had to raise an arm to shield his eyes, so bright was the funnel of light erupting from the seal. Green and yellow fought for dominance around the iridescence of the diamonds. Beautiful, but painful too. He turned away, blinking.

  Time to find out what the Braonn boy had in mind for him. Notch lifted Nia and took a step toward the seal. He hesitated. Would it work? Would he simply appear in the Autumn Grove? On the dais beside the Oyn-Dir? There had to be a corresponding seal hidden somewhere in the grove. Still he did not move. Would the magic somehow damage Nia?

  There was no choice.

  Notch stepped into the light.

  Chapter 4.

  From her seat on the second raft, Sofia watched the grassy banks slide by, walls of willow and blood-tipped trees hemming the Aforna River. Wind chilled her bare hands, even weaselling its way to her throat, no matter how she cinched her now ragged, dirty robe, or angled the unresponsive Osani.

  Grey-topped water reflected a leaden sky. The river’s dark length ran ahead as far as she could see, where it would eventually empty into the sea south of Anaskar. There the coast would be difficult to navigate, with few coves suitable for landing ships and rock-strewn reefs plentiful.

  How would the rafts Father and Emilio built fare in such waters?

  Emilio muttered a curse, wrenching his pole where he stood nearby. “I apologise, My Lady.”

  She smiled. “I’ve heard worse.”

  At a call from her father’s raft, she stood, stepping around women and children huddled in the centre. They clutched blankets and other possessions for warmth, expressions flat, empty. Miserable. Many had leant over the side to vomit during the days they’d been on the river; the unpleasant withdrawals of whatever drug Efran had been giving them.

  Sofia wanted to ease their suffering but all she could offer was a show of confidence.

  “Father?”

  The shoulders of his robe were damp from earlier rain. Argeon’s white streak gleamed with moisture, bright against the surrounding black. The eyes revealed nothing but shadow where they stared across the water. Did he ever communicate with Tantos? It seemed unlikely. “There will be rough water ahead. I don’t know how the rafts will fare.”

  “The Sap-Born will still be searching.”

  “And it will be dark soon – yet we will make camp.”

  “All right.”

  Emilio nodded when she turned to him. She resumed her watch on the tree line. The Sap-Born had attacked twice in the days since their escape; once while cutting and building the raft with Emilio’s axe, and once at night, while at camp.

  Each attack ended the same way.

  Screams rising over the sound of snapping bones and Sofia fighting a churning in her stomach, disgust strong enough to spoil any appetite she might have had.

  Each time, her father and Emilio let the bodies slip into the water, the Aforna swallowing them whole. The next morning the party kept on, poling down the river, watching, waiting for another attack. But so far none had come and by Father’s estimation, they would reach the coast before any other force could reach them.

  “How much longer?” a child asked.

  “Hush, dear. Soon,” came the reply.

  Most of the prisoners were holding up well, aside from the sickness. Many now bore a gleam in their eyes so it was a hopeful group that made landing, the boat easing into cold shallows where the river broadened and the current slowed.

  Enough light remained to make camp; a process that her father had established quickly. He worked on shelter while Emilio hunted and Sofia organised the collection of firewood. Other women set to the river’s edge to draw water and yet others moved between the trees, foraging for nuts and berries, returning with armfuls of the small, orange berries whose flavour was strong but fleeting. When Sofia ate them, her stomach was barely sated.

  Luckily, most nights Emilio returned with rabbit meat or Alcina led the women in fishing, casting lines with worms on the hook. Her touch was delicate and it was rare that a fish escaped her. Each night could have been a feast but with so many mouths to feed the food didn’t stretch far.

  Sofia placed a stack of kindling before the fire-pit and groaned as she straightened.

  A young boy blinked up at her. “Are you hurt, Lady?”

  “No.” She removed her mask to give him a smile. “Just a little sore.” But the ache and stiffness in her bones still went beyond anything she could explain. The idea of withdrawals from lenasi was long discarded. Something else was wrong.

  And now that escaped seemed assured, it was time to face whatever it was.

  After the meal, she turned to her father. Firelight flickered across Argeon, revealing his nicks and scuffs. Father’s hands rested in his lap but his body had not relaxed. He was on guard, head moving to face the trees often. Heat from the fire warmed her. “Can we speak?”

  “Of course.” He waited.

  “In private.” She lowered her voice. “I don’t want to worry them.”

  He rose and gave Emilio a nod before leading her beyond the glow of firelight, where he stopped between two trunks. The cold had banished any scents, as if the forest were empty. Yet her feet crunched over leaves and the scurrying sounds of small animals was clear overhead, the flow of the river a subtle backdrop.

  “What is wrong, Petal?”

  “Whenever I remove Osani or Argeon, my limbs stiffen and I cannot move. Sometimes even when I wake wearing a mask. Sometimes it’s hard to speak, even my jaw locks up.” Her voice wavered. “What’s happening to me?”

  He took her by the shoulders. “How long?”

  “Since before I found the grove. Weeks now.”

  “Petal, you have worn Argeon too long.” His voice was sharp – yet it was fear that she heard within, and it shot through her. If Father was afraid...Ana, what could she do? He continued, “We must be very careful from here on.”

  “I had no choice, Father. He protected me from the lenasi withdrawals.”

  A sigh echoed behind the mask. “No, I am to blame. I ought to have prepared you better.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “For now, wear Osani. You will need to spend time away from the masks but only under controlled circumstances. I will oversee it, and you will be well again, I promise.”

  She took a deep breath. “But what if something goes wrong and we lose the masks?”

  “That will not happen.”

  “Father.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “My impulse is to shield you first.”

  “You don’t have to do that, remember?”

  “I do.” He leant against one of the trees. “For you see, without intervention, your bones will fuse together and you will never move again. In time, you will waste away and die, unable to take sustenance. It happened to Solicci’s great grandfather. He was careless.”

  Sofia shuddered. To be a prisoner in her own body – unmoving. To be able to make decisions yet never act upon them. To be utterly dependent upon someone else for every aspect of her life...short as it would no doubt be. Hideous powerlessness.

  Better a quick death. “But why is this happening?”

  “Your bones have grown dependant on the Greatmasks, which is why you feel no pain, why you move freely, when you wear them. We can break the cycle of dependence, the bone sickness together, but I must guide you. It is dangerous.”

  “So be it. Let’s start now,” she said.

  “Not until we are free of the forest. During the process we are both vulnerable.”

  “Then I will stop trying to reach Osani.”

  “No – continue. We need him yet.” He glanced back at the camp. She followed his gaze but all appeared well. The women and children were talking and Emilio stood with his back to the fire, hands resting on the handle of his axe. “Tomorrow I will attempt to reach him once more. And we should seek Metti again, also.”

  “She must be in peril if we still cannot find her.”

  “As all will be.”

  Sofia rubbed her neck, emitting a long sigh. “Will two Greatmasks truly make a difference?”

  “They must.”

  “Then can Argeon help with Osani?”

  He paused, then laughed. “How foolish of me not to think it.”

  “Well, how often have you been in possession of two Greatmasks?” she asked.

  “True. We shall see if anything can be done.”

  Emilio approached. “Lord Danillo, Alcina wants to speak with you.”

  “Thank you, Emilio.”

  Sofia followed them back to the light. Alcina and several other women sat around the fire, with expressions of concern. Children had already bedded down, some of the women beside them.

  “Lord Protector, the women have asked me what you are planning once you reach the coast. I doubt you have a ship waiting there,” Alcina said.

  “That is true.”

  She turned to one of the women, whose cheek bore a fading bruise. “This is Helena.”

  Unlike most of the former slaves, Helena was one of the few Braonn women Efran had imprisoned. “We want to thank you again for rescuing us, Lord Danillo, but when we reach the coast, many of us plan to stay and begin new lives.”

  “The Sap-Born may still be chasing us.”

  “We understand,” Helena said. “But for some of us, Wiraced is our home – for the rest...the shame is too great. Many do not wish to return. At least, not yet.” She shrugged. “We are no strangers to hardship and there are old villages near the mouth of the Aforna.”

  “Those overrun by the Ulag Clan?”

  “Yes. Few would seek us there and we have nothing to fear from the ruins.” Her expression darkened. “Efran razed my village.”

  “It is true that I have no ship,” her father said. “But it would be wrong for me to leave you alone here.”

  “They won’t be alone, My Lord,” Alcina said. “They have each other.”

  “I do have a boat hidden at the river mouth but it will not fit us all – at least, not at once. But there is an island, I would have ferried you there. It is large enough to support a small group for a time. At least until I was able to send a ship back from Anaskar.”

  “I still believe we will fare better here, Lord Danillo,” Helena said.

  “Then we will see you safely to one of the ruins.”

  “Thank you.”

  Alcina held her hands out to the blaze. To Sofia’s eye it seemed the blind woman swallowed before speaking, as if nervous, but when she spoke her voice was steady. “My Lord, I would ask that you take me with you, back to the city.”

  “Even as it lies now, under attack?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Sofia exchanged a glance with Emilio. How would Alcina fare? Blind and alone, for surely she would not wish to infiltrate the palace with them? Her father only nodded. “Very well. Prepare for yet another dark journey.”

  “Worry not, My Lord.”

  He stood. “I will take the first watch. Emilio then Sofia.”

  “I feel well enough to help now,” Helena offered.

  “You are welcome to join me, Helena. If you can find two more volunteers –”

  “I will assist Sofia,” Alcina said.

  “And I the Captain,” added another woman.

  “Good.” He took Helena to the edge of camp, speaking softly. Sofia went to her blanket and lay down, staring up into the bright, sharp light of the stars. She made to remove Osani, but stopped. The last few mornings she’d barely been able to move upon waking, replacing the mask with difficulty only.

  If she kept it on her sleep would be deeper.

  But would it make everything worse, in the long term?

  She needed rest no matter the risk. Sofia linked her fingers across her chest and tried to slow her breathing. Before too long, Emilio would be waking her.

  ***

  “Sofia.”

  Emilio crouched over her, his face a dark outline against the embers.

  “Already?”

  “I will take your shift, if you wish,” he said.

  She smiled and for a moment, let herself imagine that there were no masks, no invasion, no pain and fear, only this quiet moment in the night with Emilio. How different things could be. Her smile faded. That was not the way of life. Pain and fear were not likely to disappear simply because she wished it. She touched his arm. “No, but thank you. I’ll manage.” She rose, her limbs responding naturally. A welcome change, even if her face was damp with sweat. She removed Osani and wiped her face before replacing him. “Is Alcina awake?” She kept her voice low.

  “She is waiting for you.”

  Sofia threaded her way through sleeping bodies, coming to a halt near the standing form of Alcina, wrapped in her cloak. She held her hands up to her mouth, as if whispering to them. At Sofia’s footfalls, the woman opened her hands and Sofia frowned as she strained her eyes in the night. Had there been a gentle flutter of butterfly wings?

  No, she’d been mistaken. Butterflies didn’t move at night. Perhaps it was simply a Braonn prayer or a ritual Alcina had adopted?

  Alcina turned with a smile. “My Lady.”

  “You should call me Sofia,” she said.

  “I’ll try.”

  They stood in silence as the soft sounds of night surrounded the camp. A faint rustle of leaves and a cry from a night bird, the water’s murmuring passage.

  “There’s a rabbit out there too,” Alcina said. “I hear his feet thumping away from us.”

  Sofia strained her ears but couldn’t catch the sound. “Your ears are better than mine.”

  “A slight compensation for my blindness, perhaps,” she said with a chuckle.

  Sofia hesitated. “Were you always blind, Alcina?”

  “Since I was a little girl. We don’t know why, but I’ve learnt to manage – like with the rabbit. I may not see someone sneaking up on us but I’ll certainly hear them.”

  “Sooner than I, too.” Sofia shifted, rearranging her robe, pulling it tighter around her shoulders. The mask protected her face from the cold but not the back of her neck unless her hood was up, and that obscured her vision more than the mask itself. “Where will you go, if I may ask? When we reach Anaskar?”

  “Home, if it still stands.”

  “Is your family in the city?”

  “No. I have no family now. I had a daughter but she died a babe and her father was a poisonous fool.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Alcina.” Sofia stammered. How pitiful and useless words had suddenly become.

  “Don’t apologise, Lady. It was many years past.”

  “Have you been in the Bloodwood a long time?”

  “Years. It’s almost strange to be free. I expect one of those abominations to appear at any time and tell me to go back inside or to take another dose of whatever it was they fed us.” She swallowed. “It was especially bad for the children.”

  “He drugged the children too?”

  “The older ones, at first. Then they simply disappeared. Helena overheard one of the Sap-Men discussing ‘children at the other camp’ and so we think they were moved once old enough. Who knows how many there are? When I arrived, there were women who’d been kept prisoner for years.”

  “Other locations? That could mean other assassins.” And people they’d failed to save.

  “Do you believe that’s what they wanted the children for?”

  “Efran admitted it to me. And...he showed me one of them. She was too young.”

  A branch snapped in the darkness and Sofia froze. Another heavy footfall, then another crunch. Sofia drew her knife. “Wake my father,” she said.

  “Wait. Listen to the breathing.”

  Sofia paused. There, between the clomping of boots, rasping breaths. The footfalls stopped, close, but whoever was out there remained invisible in the night. They started again and a gasp followed each step, until a heavy thud and a groan followed.

  Then nothing but Sofia’s own blood thumping in her ears.

  “We need light.”

  Sofia led Alcina back to camp, stirred the fire and took a burning branch before waking her father. He came to his feet swiftly when she told him what they’d heard. He led them back to the trees and when Sofia raised the brand, she gasped.

  A man lay face-down in the leaves.

  His back was rent by deep gouges – claw marks which had torn his green tunic to shreds. Yellow blood covered his skin and he was missing half his arm, the stump of which rested in a pool of amber liquid.

  “What could have done that?” she asked.

  “What is amiss?” Alcina asked.

  Her father knelt by the body. “A wild animal has attacked a Sap-Born.”

  “A bear?”

  “Larger, perhaps, I fear.” He muttered beneath his breath. “We must break camp. Wake the others while I look for –”

  “Let me,” Sofia said. “I will Spirit-Walk, it’ll be safer.”

  He stood. “Very well. Back to camp first.”

  Sofia led Alcina back to the faint red glow of the campfire, casting glances over her shoulder with every other step.

  Chapter 5.

  Ain leant against the cold stone windowsill, pulling the sky blue of his pathfinder’s cloak tight around his shoulders. The evening cool of desert air against his face was welcome nonetheless – a slight distraction from the paths.

  In Haven’s streets, two storeys below, the hurried steps of men and women in white wrought new paths, pulsing and thumping as they moved in and out of their homes, their arms laden with possessions and provisions, loading them into hand-carts. All part of the planned evacuation due to the darklings’ increase in both numbers and cunning.

  In the short time Ain had spent in Haven the creatures had attacked three times, somehow scaling the ridges that enclosed the buildings, from the desert far below. Were they corporeal or not? None had risen from the quartz shaft, as far as Rejam and Predi could discern.

  This evening however, the two had turned guard duty over to their own sons. Ain moved from the window to the large stone table. At its head, the twins’ faces were grim, their white hair touched with orange in the torchlight as they sat either side of the Mazu leader, Nydepa.

 

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