The Inner Circle: The Knowing (19 page)

The branch was relatively thin, which
suited Seeol’s purpose anyway. It wasn’t as though he intended to
go to roost, but instead to remain only long enough for Emquin and
Ilgrin to fall asleep. It wouldn’t take long. The day had been
exhausting.

Seeol was happy. Emquin and Ilgrin were
his friends, as much as that silly silt tried to prove otherwise.
They’d come to trust him. All day he’d made sure to warn them when
Far-a-mael and the others got too close, allowing Emquin to speed
up accordingly. Ilgrin seemed to think Far-a-mael would be mean to
him and Seeol couldn’t help but agree.

Upon hearing the low and steady
breathing that confirmed the slumber of his friends, Seeol bounced
along the branch and launched himself into the air. He flew beside
the road and landed quietly several strides from the first tent.
The snoring within gave away Far-a-mael as the inhabitant. Seeol
hopped across the grass until he came to the entrance of a second
tent.

Someone had repaired the hole he’d torn
when first making contact with Seteal and El-i-miir, but that was
okay, he could easily pick it out again. Seeol pecked at the
stitching until it came free. His eyes adjusted quickly as he
stepped inside, allowing him to see as clearly as he would by
daylight.

El-i-miir slept on one side of the
tent, as did Seteal on the other. Seeol stood beside El-i-miir’s
gigantic head, contemplating the depths to which he’d missed her
company. His heart felt like it might beat free of his chest. His
tail twitched anxiously as he stared with adoration. He hadn’t seen
her since leaving the Sit’n’nic inn and the regrettable events
that’d followed thereafter.

Seeol climbed atop El-i-miir’s body and
stood on her chest. He looked at her face. She was a strange
creature, lacking feathers or fur over the majority of a body that
was somehow so beautiful that it left him lost for words. Seeol
felt like he could play in her hair for eternity. He clicked his
beak and bobbed his head, turned in a circle and puffed out his
chest before gently rubbing his beak over El-i-miir’s nose.

The woman woke with a start, her arms
swinging through the air. ‘Get it off me,’ she cried, slapping
Seeol’s midsection, sending him spiralling out of control until he
hit the canvas and slid down its length.

‘
What’s wrong?’
Seteal’s voice rose in panic as she squinted about, unable to see
through the dark.

‘
Something . . . ’
El-i-miir trailed off. There was a scraping sound followed
immediately by a bright flash. The level of light changed as a
lantern was ignited. ‘Something touched me.’

‘
El-i-miish,’ Seeol
said giddily, shaking out a few loose feathers.

‘
Seeol,’ Seteal
announced nervously. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘
You have to go!’
El-i-miir exclaimed, her face more pale than usual.

‘
But I missed my
friendlies.’ Seeol pointed at them, an attempt to mimic a gesture
they might recognise. ‘I thought we could playing some games and
tickle our heads.’

‘
You have to go,’
El-i-miir repeated.

‘
But I . . .’ Seeol
spread his wings, an instinctual act designed to make him appear
larger and more threatening than usual. ‘I love my
friendlies.’

‘
You’re dangerous,’
El-i-miir hissed. ‘Get out of here, and don’t come
back.’

‘
El-i-miir,’ Seteal
uttered disparagingly. ‘He doesn’t understand.’

‘
It’s dangerous,’
El-i-miir snapped. ‘You saw what it can do.’

‘
But we wanted to
fixes me.’ Seeol pulled his head back tight into his
feathers.

‘
No one can fix you,
Seeol,’ El-i-miir said incredulously. ‘The best you can do is go
back to Narvon Wood and stay there.’

‘
I don’t believing
you!’ Seeol shouted, stretching his wings wide and dipping them
toward the floor as passionately as he could. ‘If Elgleg can change
horsey into human they can fixes owls that are a little
naughty.’

‘
What the torrid are
you talking about?’ El-i-miir shook her head, but Seeol refused to
answer. He scurried across the canvas and nuzzled through the gap
before exploding into the night. He soared into the cold air,
bitter and angry.

‘
Stupid! Stupid!
Stupid!’ he shrieked repeatedly as he headed back along the road.
Why had he allowed himself hope that they would want to see him?
They knew what he was now. They’d seen him kill. How could anyone
love him when they knew what he could do?

Seeol landed clumsily in a tree close
to where Ilgrin and Emquin slept. He dug his claws in tight to the
bark. Why did it ache so much? What was this pain, if not physical?
And how was it that such invisible pain could hurt so much?

*

Ilgrin opened his eyes to the yellow
light of dawn. He stretched his wings and rolled his neck. The pain
in his shoulder was more tolerable than it’d been during days past.
The air was crisp, the sky was blue and it looked to be a beautiful
day.

Emquin stood several strides away
chewing determinedly on a mouthful of grass. She swallowed hard
when she saw Ilgrin watching and pretended to be analysing the
earth at her hooves.

‘
Good morning,
Emquin.’

‘
Morning.’ The horse
looked up at him, but her warm expression quickly departed in
exchange for one of disbelief. ‘Run.’ The word shuddered free of
her choked throat.

‘
What is
it?’

‘
Run,’ Emquin
repeated as she leapt toward Ilgrin, forcing him to dive out of the
way in avoidance of being trampled. He stumbled but maintained his
balance, turning in time to catch a glimpse of the monster he’d
encountered in Sitnic. Emquin stood where Ilgrin had been a moment
earlier and with a thud that must have knocked the air from her
lungs she was whisked into the air.

‘
Emquin!’ Ilgrin
cried.

She howled and bucked as the monster’s
claws dug into her flank. She sailed through the air, kicking and
flailing for solid ground where none could be found. A deafening
shriek drowned out her cries. The monster tore off chunks of her
flesh.

Ilgrin beat his wings and leapt after
the creature but fell to the ground in pain. His wounded shoulder
tore open afresh. ‘Emquin!’ His throat burned as he screamed,
hurrying along the road after the monster.

The beast turned and swooped back
toward Ilgrin, Emquin flopping about like a rag doll in its talons.
She had lost the strength to cry out, but still struggled
weakly.

When its eyes locked on Ilgrin’s, his
bravery gave out and he turned to run. The strangers were
irrelevant. Surely they could pose no greater threat than the
monster in pursuit. Ilgrin’s calves burned, his toes begging for
mercy as they were twisted in unnatural ways. He ignored the
discomfort and continued on.

The rhythmic beating gushing wings
pressed heavily on Ilgrin’s back. The creature was closing in, but
he didn’t dare risk a glance over his shoulder. A deafening screech
revealed the creature’s presence, but it was the long, low moan
buried beneath it that made Ilgrin sick with regret.

He was sent sprawling onto hands and
knees as the monster passed within a handswidth. Ilgrin watched it
reascend, Emquin still clutched in its talons. She gave a final
kick before the monster snapped her spine and tore her in two.
Pieces of Emquin fell to the earth: the front half, the back half,
and the various organs that’d come loose on the way down.

‘
Lord Maker,’ Ilgrin
gasped as his face was sprayed in blood. He had to go. He had to
run. Ilgrin ran from the body of his friend, from the beating wings
and the evil golden eyes.

Despite the pain, Ilgrin opened his
wings and forced a beat here or there to give his legs a break for
several strides. Time and again he hit the ground running, face
contorting in response to the burning pain.

Two women stood on the road ahead
clothed in nothing more than nightdresses. Their expressions
revealed an equal mixture of terror and, somewhat unexpectedly,
familiarity.

‘
Run!’ Ilgrin
shouted.

The monster raked forward its talons,
but Ilgrin threw himself to the side so that it missed by
milliwidths. He lifted his face out of the dirt in time to see an
old man step onto the road. He stretched out his arms, making
elaborate gestures while shouting foreign words.

‘
Run, you fool!’
Ilgrin warned as he hurried past. The man didn’t listen, instead
remaining in place as the monster descended.

The women leapt into a large, red wagon
parked by the road. With no other means of escape, Ilgrin followed
after them.

CHAPTER
Thirteen

Begin Again

Before he could reach the wagon, Ilgrin
was struck in the back and was sent sprawling onto the road. When
he looked to see what had hit him, he was disturbed to find that it
was the detached head of the old man he’d seen earlier. The monster
landed. Ilgrin leapt backward. He glanced at the wagon and wondered
if he could make it. The creature stepped forward, a cruel glint in
its eye.

Hoping to distract the monster, Ilgrin
kicked the old man’s head, sending it rolling across the earth. The
monster took the bait and pursued the head, allowing him the
opportunity to leap into the wagon’s dark interior.

A ham-sized fist hit the middle
of Ilgrin’s chest and slammed him into the wall. A dark face came
within a handswidth and a dagger was put to his throat.

‘
Ye give me one
reason nah ta gut ye right here?’ a deep voice rumbled.

‘
It wasn’t me,’
Ilgrin pleaded. ‘I didn’t do anything.’

‘
That nah be good
enough.’ The big man pressed his blade against Ilgrin’s throat, but
when the wagon rocked unexpectedly he lost his grip and fell
sideways. The canvas ceiling was torn away to reveal the monster’s
giant face hovering above.

‘
Seeol!’ cried out
the pale woman with dark hair. ‘Please, Seeol!

‘
Seeol?’ Ilgrin
murmured in disbelief. He understood then why the creature’s eyes
were so familiar. ‘It can’t be.’

Seeol ignored the woman and snapped at
the brunette girl curled up on the floor, her eyes hidden by hands
clamped tight. The monster’s face deformed and its beak shrank to
the miniscule size of small bird’s. Its head and body were sucked
into themselves and right before Ilgrin’s eyes a transformation
took place that resulted in the recreation of the elf owl known as
Seeol. His head twitched this way and that from his place perched
atop the wagon wall. A look of realisation crossed the animal’s
features before he opened his wings and disappeared without a
trace.

‘
Oh, Maker,’ the
dark-haired woman moaned. Ilgrin glanced over to see her weeping,
eyes locked on the detached head beside the road. ‘It killed him,’
she choked out. ‘Seeol killed him.’

Seteal stared at Ilgrin with such a
familiar loathing that it took only a moment to recognise her as
the girl he’d left in the field. ‘You,’ she hissed. ‘I’ll kill
you.’ She leapt toward him, showing none of the fear or restraint
he’d come to expect from humans.

‘
Get off me!’ Ilgrin
flung the woman onto a pile of linens strewn across the floor. He
leapt out of the wagon to run, but his legs slowed of their own
accord. Ilgrin’s thoughts became indistinct. He couldn’t remember
what he was running from. He glanced back toward Far-a-mael’s head
with a sense of admiration in his heart. He knew the man . . . had
even come to care for him.

The woman with long black hair stared
at the back of his head. How Ilgrin knew this, was impossible to
explain. The white pupils of the Elglair burned into his soul.

‘
I have to fix him,’
Ilgrin and El-i-miir said together, their voices
merging.

‘
El-i-miir,’ Seteal
called from behind them, ‘what’re you doing?’

‘
He is my gil’rei,’
Ilgrin cried, tears running down his face. ‘I have to save
him.’

‘
That’d nah be what
he wanted.’ A large woman stepped down from the back of the wagon
and put a hand on El-i-miir’s shoulder. Ilgrin felt it on his own.
‘There be nah ye can do for him now. It be too late.’

‘
That’s not true!’
Ilgrin heard himself shout defensively. El-i-miir thrust out her
hand and he felt his legs march forward.

‘
The mission is too
important,’ El-i-miir grated through clenched teeth. The words
bounced across Ilgrin’s brain as though they had been his
own.

‘
I can’t,’ he said
weakly. ‘You will,’ he stated firmly as El-i-miir cocked her head
and narrowed her eyes. ‘I will.’ Ilgrin’s lip quivered. ‘I have to
save my gil’rei.’

Ilgrin picked up Far-a-mael’s head by a
fistful of hair. He felt blood oozing between his fingers as it
dangled.

I won’t do it. This
is wrong
, Ilgrin tried to say in some
small part of his mind, but no sound escaped.