Cat's Quill (33 page)

"What risks?" Tomas asked, gripping the reins in his hands, glad that he'd been given gloves so that the whiteness of his knuckles wasn't so obvious. Beneath him the horse kept up its slow but steady pace, each step taking them both closer to their destination, and to Cathal.

"He hasn't spoken of you as such, but he hasn't needed to." Will was watching him intently, for once his focus solely on Tomas. He fought the urge to squirm, not liking the feeling that his reaction was being noted very carefully, a test as to whether he met the criteria required of him for whatever lay at the end of this journey. "He's taken to disappearing over the past few days, a few moments here, an hour there, and when he returns, his demeanor is different. He thinks he hides it, but he does not." Will sighed. "With everything at stake and so many dependent on him and his role in what is to come, he took a great risk crossing over into your world again." Tomas opened his mouth to ask how Will knew that was where Cathal had been but shut it again when Will raised his hand to silence him. "To a man such as Lord Emerys, it could only be for one reason." His tone softened. "And then there is the fact that he returned with the Falcons willingly and has refused to speak of what had happened. The rumors amongst those who know of his present situation are that he is protecting someone." Will's eyes grew hard. "I hope you are worth what he has been through since his return,
Master
Tomas, and it is not just him that you need to convince of that."

"Been through?" Tomas edged his horse closer to Will's. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? What's happened to him?" His stomach churned, visions of Cathal hurt, tortured, or worse, coming to mind. "He's okay, isn't he?" Please, God, let him be okay.

"He protects those he cares about." Will shook his head, his voice grim. "Even when it is at great cost to himself. It is one of the reasons why his followers are very loyal to him. But unfortunately, he is also very stubborn." He laid a hand on Tomas's very briefly, snatching it away when he realized what he'd done. "He is fine for now. Master Christian will do what he can to ensure that, but I am still not sure that this journey is wise. In going to him, you are playing into her hands and, I suspect, giving her the very weapon she needs to achieve her goals."

"Why are you telling me this?" Tomas eyed Will suspiciously, the younger man's sudden verbosity not reassuring in the slightest. Playing into Deryn's hands was the least of Tomas's concerns; he hid his reaction in hearing Christian's name. It was no surprise that Cathal's cousin would figure into what was going down somehow. From Alice's letters and what Wynne had said, the two were close. "You don't know me, and you just said yourself that I still need to convince you I'm worth it, whatever the hell that means." He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, needing the illusion of something between them. Before them, Deryn and her manservant paused on the edge of what appeared to be a river, waiting for them to catch up before crossing it. Tomas swallowed and plastered on a glare of his own, trying to ignore his growing realization that his fate and that of Cathal rested with people he barely knew or trusted.

Will merely smiled. "Lord Emerys has no time for fools, nor would he be interested in one. He needs an equal in all things." He leaned over, his voice dropping in volume still further, his mouth twitching. "Work it out, Master Tomas. Convince me and perhaps yourself as well." Urging his horse to move, he made his way toward the bank of the river, leaving Tomas no choice but to follow. It appeared that it was not only Cathal who spoke in riddles. Whatever the case, it was still damn annoying, and if Will was merely Deryn's servant, Tomas was the white rabbit complete with pocket watch!

The light was beginning to fade, the temperature dropping still further, the trees around them casting shadows, grey shapes which moved forward and back, answering the call of the wind. Mud caked the sides of the riverbank, thick and oozing into the water's edge, seeming to swallow the ground, although it was fairly firm to the touch. Sharp rocks were visible at intervals through the fast-flowing current. Tomas's horse approached it gingerly and then took a step back, its front hooves pawing the ground.

"Cross this, and we are almost home," Deryn explained, her own horse already wading into the water. It was deeper than it appeared; she hitched up her skirt to avoid it becoming wet to reveal black stockings at the tops of her boots disappearing into a layer of a shift-like undergarment. "The darkness approaches. We need to hurry."

"How far is it?" Tomas eyed the narrow river dubiously. It wasn't as wide as some he'd seen, but it didn't look very safe, his horse's behavior doing nothing to reassure him of that fact.

"Another twenty minutes," Deryn called over her shoulder. "Come now, Tomas, surely you are not afraid of a little water?" Her horse kept plodding through, keeping its pace slow but steady, shaking itself when it climbed out onto the bank on the opposite side. "Keep to my path, and you will be perfectly safe."

Tomas fought the urge to snort, the double meaning of her words not lost on him. Attempting to ease his horse to put one hoof in the water met with failure. The horse stopped right on the edge and refused to move.

"What is wrong with that animal?" Will wondered, shaking his head. "It's never done this before. We've crossed this part of the river dozens of times."

"Well, it's doing it now," Tomas pointed out. It was only a river crossing, more like a stream in size, yet the horse was spooked for some reason. "Is there another path we could follow and avoid the river?"

"No." Will took the reins from Tomas, backing both of their horses away from the river to allow Deryn's manservant to join his mistress on the bank on the other side. "The light is fading quickly. We need to cross now or we'll be forced to camp here for the night, and that is not an option."

In the distance a low howling echoed around the surrounding hills, followed by high-pitched chattering. What appeared to be a dark cloud hovered over one of the trees and then dispersed into dozens of black-colored birds that hovered in the air for a few moments before disappearing into the forest. "Wild animals?" Tomas asked, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up on end, feeling as spooked by the noise as the birds had been.

"That is one way of describing them, yes." Will glanced around nervously. "Legend has it that they didn't always used to be, though."

"What legend?" Tomas followed Will's line of sight but couldn't see anything. "Were they domesticated animals left out to fend for themselves?" The use of the word "legend" was doing nothing to help his growing uneasiness. Surely this place didn't have its own version of Bigfoot? He frowned. Come to think of it, he didn't even know what this bloody place was called.

Deryn waved to them from the other side of the river. "Cross now!" she ordered. "Do whatever is necessary, but get Tomas to this side of the river. Leave his horse if you have to. We do not have much time."

One of the birds they'd seen earlier began circling above them, dipping in the air, its cry melancholy yet strangely familiar. Tomas tilted his head, watching it, trying to work out where he'd heard it before, or at least something similar. The bird itself reminded him of a crow, but it was much bigger, the wingspan more that of a falcon. "It's a bird of prey," he commented softly.

"Yes!" Will's reply was sharp. "Either we leave your horse or we force it to cross this river. The lone bird is not a good sign. They travel by flock unless they wait to dine, and I have no intention of becoming a meal."

"I'm not leaving the horse," Tomas said, not wanting to be responsible for the death of any living creature. "Either it crosses with us, or I'm staying behind." He craned his neck, watching the bird. "Just how dangerous is that thing?"

"It's not. It simply waits to dine on what is left." Will gestured with his head toward the thickest part of the forest. "Not that the diawl leave much." He shivered. "Or so I've heard. Of those who have met them, there are very few survivors, and they usually do not live long. The healers cannot save them but merely ease their passing."

"Diawl?" This place was becoming less welcoming by the moment. The bird cried again, the sound echoing, surrounding them.

Will strengthened his grip on the reins of both horses and urged his own into the water. This time it refused, as did Tomas's once again. Tomas frowned and sniffed the air. A stench filled his nostrils; he was sure it hadn't been there before. He choked, coughing. The smell reminded him of rotten eggs, but with a far greater degree of sulfur to it. Will swore under his breath and reached into one of his saddlebags, all the while keeping an eye on the bird overhead.

"Open this and hold it under the horse's nose," Will hissed, shoving a small leather bag pulled closed with a drawstring into Tomas's hand and also returning his horse's reins. "Whatever you do, don't take a whiff of it yourself. It will addle your senses."

Watching Will open the bag and hold it against the horse's nostrils, Tomas followed his example, gripping the sides of his horse with his thighs when the animal protested and reared up onto its back legs. Biting his lip to avoid crying out at the pain that shot through his stiffening legs, Tomas held onto the reins and the horse's mane as tightly as he could. The horse settled a little and tried to back away from the smell, but to his amazement, Tomas managed to stay astride. Leaning forward, he tasted blood as he bit his lip still harder in his determination to do this without showing his audience just how inexperienced a rider he was. For a moment he debated dismounting but wasn't sure his legs would hold his weight, so he persevered with keeping the bag firmly in place so that the animal could not avoid getting a whiff of whatever was in it. Snorting its protest, the horse breathed in and immediately calmed, becoming docile, its ears pricking back against its head, its eyes glazing over.

"What the fuck is this?" Tomas demanded, but Will shook his head, pulling his own bag closed and putting it back into his saddlebag. Tomas shoved his bag quickly into a pocket he had discovered on the inside of his cloak.

"I'll explain later. The effect of the herbs only lasts a few minutes, but we need to hurry before the horse can think for itself again." He motioned the horse into the water again, and this time there was no question of disobedience; it obeyed its master's orders, although it seemed sluggish in its movements.

Tomas mirrored Will's actions with his own horse, the stench growing stronger the further the animal waded into the water. Why hadn't the other horses reacted to this, and why his at first and not Will's? Shaking his head, he stroked the horse's mane, talking softly to it. Just because it had been drugged, that did not mean that it did not register its fear on some level, and it was being put through this ordeal because of him.

And to keep them both safe from whatever these diawl were. Above them the bird circled, the darkness closing in; it was growing more difficult to see Deryn and her manservant waiting for them.

One step.

Then another.

Tomas kept his focus on the horse, realizing he did not know its name, and on the bank on the other side of the river. Just two more steps, and they would be there. Out of this water and back onto dry land.

Something moved in the water beneath them, darting in and around the horse's hooves. Tomas got a glimpse of a long, grey, snakelike creature. He urged the horse to pick up its pace, but it took another step, the water splashing up against its forelegs, and stopped.

"Move it," Tomas hissed. One more step, and the bloody thing had stopped. Why him? Will's horse had crossed the river without a hitch and was now waiting on the other side. Tomas went to slide off the horse and into the water, thinking that he'd lead it if riding was not going to work. To hell with his legs, it was better risking that and leaning on the horse to steady himself than being stuck in the middle of the water with the creature in it stalking them.

The water snake's head and half its body rose out of the water. Tomas froze. It seemed bigger out of the water, the head at least the size of his hand and forearm. A small object flashed past Tomas, what was left of the light highlighting the blade for a split second before the knife ricocheted off a rock, barely missing the snake as it dived back beneath the water. Regaining his senses, Tomas reached out his hand, catching the handle of the blade before it disappeared after its prey, hiding it beneath his cloak, the horse hiding his action from those already safely on the shore.

"Out of the water, now!" Deryn snapped. "Both you and that horse." She stood on the edge of the bank, hands on each hip, glaring at him. "Never, never get into the same area of water as a snake. Don't they teach you anything in the way of common sense where you come from?"

"If they did, I certainly wouldn't be here with you, would I?" Tomas replied in kind. His horse finally out of the water, he sat back in the saddle, catching his breath. "We do not have the fauna you do, obviously. My world is a little more... civilized." He emphasized the last word, allowing himself a smirk when Deryn snorted her disapproval. She did not need to know that he had barely spent any time in the wilderness of his own world.

"Civilization comes in many forms. Do not judge what you do not know, Tomas. The price for that can be very high." She looked out upon the water and sighed. "That was my favorite knife. I do hope you are worth this effort." Mounting her horse again, she shook her head. "From what I have seen so far, I doubt it, but then a prize is in the eye of the beholder, is it not?"