The Inner Circle: The Knowing (15 page)

‘
It’s a little
farther along the fence, but it’s locked. Try the tool shed,’
Emquin encouraged. ‘You should be able to find something to break
the lock. It’s old and shouldn’t give too much
resistance.’

Ilgrin stumbled as he tried to stand, a
wave of nausea crawling through his intestines. ‘Are you all
right?’ Emquin enquired worriedly.

‘
Yes,’ Seeol replied.
The others ignored him.

‘
I think so,’ Ilgrin
shook his head and stood. ‘I’m a bit dizzy, but should be
okay.’

‘
Just take your
time,’ Emquin encouraged. ‘The night is young. There’s no
rush.’

Ilgrin took a nervous step into the
night, his breath held when he noticed men with torches pacing up
and down the road, no doubt looking for him.

‘
You sure about
this?’ Ilgrin murmured. ‘I can’t see a thing.’

‘
What is shed?’ Seeol
piped in. ‘A little house?’

‘
Yes, I suppose,’
Emquin replied dismissively.

‘
Beside a big
house?’

‘
You can see it
through the dark?’ Ilgrin asked.

‘
What is dark?’ Seeol
said back. ‘I see everything.’

‘
Really?’ Ilgrin
said, coming up with an idea. ‘Will you help me find something to
set Emquin free?’

‘
You need my help?’
Seeol asked excitedly, before buzzing through the air and landing
atop Ilgrin’s head. ‘I want to be your friend. Let’s help do things
together!’

‘
Okay,’ Ilgrin
whispered. ‘But you must remember to be quiet.’

‘
Shhhhhhh
,’ Seeol made a shushing
sound. ‘Quiet times.’

‘
Come on, Seeol.’
Ilgrin removed the bird from his head and placed him to perch on a
finger. ‘Guide me to the shed.’

‘
Yes. I can see the
little house. Be sneaky, though. There are naughty men on the
street.’

‘
Can we make it
without being noticed?’

‘
I do hope so,’ Seeol
replied. ‘They don’t have such good eyeballs.’

‘
Right,’ Ilgrin
murmured. ‘Here goes.’ Staying as low as possible, he hurried
across the lawn, past the front of the house and over to the little
shed. He threw himself against it and ducked into the shadows. ‘Did
anyone see?’ He gasped for breath, realising abruptly he’d been
holding it the whole time.

‘
I saw,’ Seeol
replied.

‘
Anyone
else!?’

‘
No . . . no, I don’t
think so,’ Seeol shook his head, the human gesture appearing
strangely foreign to an owl. Ilgrin wondered who’d been responsible
for training it such unusual tricks. ‘There is a door to go
iside.’

Ilgrin slid his hand along the wooden
surface until he felt cool steel. He turned the handle and pulled.
A soft thump spiralled into the night and Ilgrin waited in frozen
anticipation. He slid into the shed, making sure to leave the door
ajar. ‘What do you see?’ he whispered.

‘
Sharp stuff.’
Seeol’s rather limited capacities in speech were making things
difficult.

‘
Can you see anything
that might be strong enough to break a lock?’

‘
What’s a
lock?’

‘
Okay.
’ Ilgrin tapped his lip
thoughtfully. ‘Can you see any giant scissors . . . or a really
large knife?’

‘
I know what scissors
are,’ Seeol replied. ‘El-i-miish has some.’

‘
Right.
’ Ilgrin scratched his
head, not having the faintest idea of who or what an 'El-i-miish'
was. ‘Well, can you see any?’

‘
Yes!’ Seeol cried
victoriously, before quickly reprimanding himself with a quiet
shushing sound. ‘Put your hand high. Higher.’

‘
Here?’ Ilgrin asked,
feeling along a shelf above his head.

‘
More left,’ Seeol
said.

‘
Got it,’ Ilgrin
whispered, clasping the smooth handles of a bolt-cutter. ‘Let’s
go.’

‘
Let’s save Emquin.’
The owl fluttered up and danced atop Ilgrin’s shoulder.
‘Yay!’

‘
Emquin,’ Ilgrin
hissed as he ducked down beside the fence.

‘
Did you find
anything?’

‘
Bolt
cutters.’

‘
Perfect,’ the horse
said with obvious relief. ‘Quickly now. It’s over here.’ The horse
lead Ilgrin back from the house until they came to a small
gate.

‘
I have to go home,’
Ilgrin whispered. ‘I’ll let you out, but I have to see if I can do
anything for my parents.’

‘
What happened to
your parents?’

‘
They--’ the words
caught in his throat. ‘They were killed.’

‘
Just how many silts
are there around here?’

‘
Not silts.’ Ilgrin
frowned. ‘My human parents.’

‘
I see.’ A look of
understanding crossed the horse's face. ‘But if they’re dead,
there’s really nothing you can do.’ She narrowed her eyes
accusingly.

‘
There is,’ Ilgrin
insisted. ‘They’re my parents. I have to do it.’

‘
Even if you did seek
to perform so vile an act,’ Emquin said warningly, ‘it’s already
far too late.’

‘
What do you mean?’
Ilgrin asked wearily.

‘
Even silts have
their limitations,’ Emquin said candidly. ‘Your parents must’ve
died hours ago. They’ll be far too dead for what you’re
intending.’

‘
I have to try,’
Ilgrin said pleadingly.

‘
Then you’re a fool
and you’ll be killed,’ the horse reprimanded him. ‘Don’t you think
they have men waiting at your house? Don’t you think they’ll be
expecting your return? Your parents are too dead to be saved. You
have to leave it be, or else die trying to do the
impossible.’

Ilgrin slumped. ‘You’re right.’ His
voice revealed the deflation he felt. He wasn’t even sure he’d have
been willing to bring them back if he could, such was the conflict
within him. Ilgrin hefted the bolt cutters and with an echoing
crack the lock fell away and the gate squeaked open.

‘
You there,’ a voice
called from the street. ‘Show yourself!’

‘
And that would be
our cue to leave,’ Emquin murmured apprehensively. ‘Quick, hop on.’
With no need for further prompting, Ilgrin leapt onto the horse’s
back.

Seeol’s sharp claws dug into Ilgrin’s
arm as Emquin galloped onto the road.

‘
Stop!’ The man
shouted after them. ‘Silt,’ he cried, having noticed Ilgrin’s
wings. ‘Stop or I’ll shoot,’ the voice warned, waiting no more than
a second before firing an arrow that swished right by Ilgrin’s
head.

‘
Hurry,’ he
called.

‘
What do you think
I’m doing?’ Emquin snapped as she abandoned the roadside and
galloped into the open plains. Despite valiant efforts on the part
of their pursuers, human legs were no match for the speed of a
frightened horse and before long they fell away into the
distance.

CHAPTER Ten

A Thief in the Night

‘
Good morning.’
Emquin’s perpetually maternal voice filled Ilgrin’s ears. He opened
his eyes to find himself situated in a small cave rendered naked by
sunlight.

‘
We’re alive,’ he
rasped groggily, sleep having failed to relieve Ilgrin’s
exhaustion. ‘I’m starving.’ He put a hand on his stomach, dismayed
by the fact that he hadn’t eaten since the morning before. The
morning before . . . could it really have been just yesterday that
he’d enjoyed an ordinary meal within the loving confines of a
family home? So much had happened. So much was lost. It was a
nightmare.

‘
Indeed we are.’
Emquin nodded her long head. ‘Few people know this place. I’ve
stayed safe hiding here a few times.’

‘
Where’s the
bird?’

‘
Seeol?’

‘
That’s right.’
Ilgrin sat up, but failed to do so without cringing at the pain in
his shoulder.

‘
He’s sleeping
down the back.
’ Emquin raised her nose
toward the shadowy depths of the cave. ‘He was confused by the idea
of sleeping at night.’

Ilgrin stood up and examined his
shoulder reluctantly. ‘So what’s your story?’

‘
What’s yours?’
Emquin evaded the question. ‘What is a silt doing in
Sitnic?’

‘
I’ll tell if you
tell,’ Ilgrin offered, before something glistening caught his eye.
‘What is that?’ He pointed at a small collection of dead insects,
lizards, and beetles atop a flat stone.

‘
Seeol gathered
those.’ Emquin’s thick black lips moved most unnaturally in their
replication of human speech. ‘He was certain you’d be
hungry.’

Ilgrin wrinkled his nose in disgust. ‘I
can’t eat that.’

‘
I know, dearie,’ the
horse said dryly, ‘but we needn’t tell him, must we? The poor
little thing spent the whole night collecting those for
you.’

‘
Of course I won’t
tell him.’ Ilgrin absent-mindedly slid fingers over the stubble on
his chin. ‘So, forgive me for asking, but it’s more than just a
little odd meeting two talking animals in one night.’

‘
I’m hardly an
animal,’ Emquin said stuffily. ‘I used to be human. I lived in the
capitol of Shinteleran, a place far too close to Old World for the
good of its inhabitants. I fought in the royal army and expected to
die in battle, but a whisp got me first. I was riding my horse one
moment and the next I was trapped inside her mind, my human body
having become an empty vessel that fell from her back.’

‘
That’s horrible,’
Ilgrin murmured.

‘
You don’t know the
half of it.’ Emquin shuddered. ‘It used to be much worse. When it
first happened, I had no control. I was simply stuck, observing
through the eyes of my horse, unable to interact with the world
around me. But one day, I managed to make her blink. It took years
of practise, but eventually I took her over.’

‘
So what happened to
the horse?’

‘
She’s still here
with me,’ Emquin said apologetically. ‘She observes the world
through my eyes now. I often feel her fear. I wish I could tell her
what has happened to us, but her simple mind would never
understand.’

‘
I’m sorry.’ Ilgrin
averted his eyes, horrified by the idea of being paralysed in one’s
own body. ‘So how come you can talk? I mean, sure you were once
human, but horse lips don’t work that way, right?’

‘
I was stumped by
that for a long time.’ Emquin gazed out of the cave. ‘Why should I
be cursed so deeply only to be left this small relief? As the years
passed by it became clear. My ability to speak was the whisp’s
final cruel blow. When I asked for help, people locked me away and
sold me for ridiculous prices. They forced me to perform in
circuses and traveling shows. In the end, I learnt to keep my mouth
shut.’

‘
How did you wind up
in the field where we met?’

Emquin frowned. ‘I realised my only
hope in becoming human was with the Elglair. At home, we hear such
fanciful stories about the people of the Frozen Lands. I’m sure
most of them can’t be true, but it’s the only hope I’ve got. I left
Nobell to go north, but a horse without a rider doesn’t make it
very far. I’ve been captured and escaped on many occasions, but
this most recent one was especially tricky. I was stuck in that
field for at least a year.’

‘
I don’t know
what to say.
’ Ilgrin sighed. ‘People can
be awful.’

‘
What about
you?’

‘
My story isn’t
nearly as interesting.’ Ilgrin shrugged. ‘My father heard a strange
noise one night. When he went to investigate, he found my birth
mother outside with a silver-tipped arrow through her heart. Her
arms were locked around a baby silt. And that was me.’

‘
You can’t have been
raised in Abnatol,’ Emquin said in astonishment.

‘
Believe it or not,’
Ilgrin grumbled.

‘
Abnatians are kind
people.’ Emquin nodded. ‘But even if someone had taken you in, how
could they have possibly kept you secret for so long?’

‘
We have . . . we had
a farm.’ Ilgrin felt a wave of emotion as he remembered his family:
building a tree-house together, hanging a swing in the tree,
learning to ride his first horse. ‘It wasn’t always fun, but there
was plenty of room to hide--until recently, anyway.’

‘
So you’ve never been
to Old World?’ Emquin asked uneasily.

‘
I’ve never seen
another silt.’

‘
May Maker be so
merciful as to keep it that way,’ Emquin said emphatically. ‘Their
world is a confusing one. Any morals they might’ve once had were
long ago utterly corrupted. They can’t tell right from wrong
anymore.’