Chapter 5

In the morning, after a hearty breakfast, they gathered in the square with twenty men and women. All of them were armed with swords, spears and most of them carried longbows. In these woods, they usually hunted deer, boar and birds. Occasionally they had to drive off or kill wolves or mountain lions which had wandered down from higher ground. No one knew what they were hunting today so were armed for anything.

There were no smiles and the usual camaraderie Vargus had seen before a hunt was absent. Silence gripped the square. This wasn’t about meat for the pot. Something was threatening their homes and families. Tense faces watched from windows in the surrounding buildings and more stood on street corners pretending to be busy with something else.

Cerille joined the party at the head of another group of five women armed with heavy spears. Twenty-six bodies for one beast. She wasn’t taking any chances this time.

“You all know what’s at stake,” said Cerille, hefting her spear. “Split into groups of six. Keep your people in sight at all times. No excuses. No wandering off. We stay out until it starts to get dark; then we get clear of the trees before nightfall. Any questions?”

There were none. Vargus was starting to see why she was the Elder. While everyone else seemed nervous, there was a deep well of calm around her. As if she could take anything in her stride. The others took strength from her and there was an easing of tension among the party.

He and Lanny were put in a group with three spear-women and a gap-toothed man called Waide carrying a long-handled axe. They followed the main group along worn paths through the forest, making enough noise to startle most prey into hiding. Vargus heard a few creatures rustling in the undergrowth, but it was only a couple of rabbits and they quickly went underground. After an hour, they split up into their separate groups and spread out into a line. Lanny was on his left and a rangy blonde woman on his right.

His group moved through the forest with care, pausing at every sound before moving on. They frequently stopped so Waide could study the ground for tracks while the others watched the trees in tense silence.

No one spoke unless they had to, and only then in a whisper. Mostly they used basic sign language which even Lanny could interpret without the need for an explanation. When he started to pull forward ahead of the group with his long strides, Vargus pulled him back. Apart from that, he did exactly as he was told and Vargus didn’t know who was on the hunt with him. The innocent boy or his old friend.

After two hours, they were all wound up so tight that they were jumping at the slightest sound. Waide had already hurled his axe at what turned out to be a squirrel, much to his embarrassment and Lanny’s amusement. They pressed on in grim silence for another hour, moving higher through the forest as the temperature started to fall.

Eventually they stopped to eat, but even then Waide made sure two people kept watch. Accidental deaths might happen from time to time, but this far away from the cities and towns, murder was rare and unusual. The three people who had died hadn’t been old or sick. Something had killed them. They were friends and relatives, and even in a growing village like Morgan’s Creek, their absence was felt by everyone. He could see it in the hunch of their shoulders and the way Waide kept clenching his jaw.

When they’d all finished eating, the group doggedly pressed on. After a while, the trees started to thin out and the ground became uneven, dotted with lumps of slate. A short time later, they heard the trickle of water and soon they were following one of the many tributaries that ran underground through the forest.

A high-pitched scream to their left made everyone drop into defensive crouches with weapons held at the ready. Vargus could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears and he smelled the fear sweat coming from the woman on his right. Cocking his head to one side, Vargus closed his eyes and listened to the silence until it began to ring in his ears. Nothing stirred in the trees. Then the shouting began and they all knew that something was wrong.

“Move,” hissed Waide and they sprinted towards the sound of raised voices. The trees whipped past in a blur. Bushes snagged at Vargus’s clothing but he ignored them and pressed on, moving towards the danger instead of away from it.

They came into a clearing and found themselves on the edge of a rocky shelf overlooking a deep ravine which was eight or ten paces across. Above them, the hillside broke up into a series of narrow stone gullies and rocky outcrops. Several worried faces were peering down from a ledge further up the hillside.

“What happened?” called Waide.

“We saw something,” a woman shouted down. “It was huge and fast. Cerille chased it and she fell,” said the woman, pointing into the ravine below. Vargus crept to the edge and peered down into the gloom. If he ran and jumped, he wouldn’t be able to reach the other side, but below him it narrowed until it was barely wide enough for one person. He didn’t know how deep it went and couldn’t see the bottom.

“I’ll climb down,” said Vargus, setting down his sword and starting to shrug out of his leather armour. It wouldn’t do him any good down there and it looked as if it would be a tight squeeze without it.

Much to his surprise Lanny passed his sword to Waide and started to take off his armour as well. “You can’t carry her up by yourself. I’m stronger than you.”

It made sense. No one had thought to bring any rope with them. They’d come to hunt for a huge bear-like creature, not climb into ravines.

Vargus lay down on his stomach and let his feet dangle over the edge into thin air. Once his hands were secure, he found toeholds that would bear his weight, and then he slid over the edge. It was still early in the afternoon, but as he slowly worked his way down the rocky channel, the light began to dim. Vargus knew he was rushing but didn’t know how badly Cerille was hurt and they had to get to her soon. When one of his footholds gave way, Vargus grabbed an outcrop before he fell and thankfully it held his weight. He paused for a moment to settle himself and wait for the shaking in his arms to subside before carrying on.

Soon he could touch both sides of the stone channel and was able to spider-walk his way down with no fear of falling. At the bottom, a black opening barely wide enough for him to squeeze through led to a shallow cave. Cerille was lying face down just inside the hollow. Her right arm was bent at a strange angle behind her back and her left leg was twisted out of shape. Moving her as gently as possible, Vargus rolled Cerille onto her back.

Lanny squeezed into the cave, scraping his chest and back against the stone on either side of the opening.

“How is she?” he asked, shuffling closer. There wasn’t enough room in the cave for Vargus to stand up and Lanny had to crawl on hands and knees across the broken stone.

Cerille’s skin was ashen and, putting his ear to her mouth, Vargus could barely hear her breathing. There was blood trickling from one ear and a huge damp patch on the left side of her torso. He didn’t investigate any further, afraid of what he might find.

“She’s got one broken arm and her left leg is a mess. She might be bleeding from her head as well. If we try to move her, we might kill her by accident.”

“Give her to me.” In the dim light, Vargus couldn’t see his friend’s eyes but his tone of voice brooked no argument.

“Why?”

“Hurry, Vargus, while there’s still time.”

Lanny cleared a space on the ground before hunching over and sitting down. Moving as gently as he could, Vargus shuffled across the ground, carrying Cerille to where Lanny sat.

With both hands, Lanny lifted her as if she were weightless and set her down across his folded legs. Placing one hand on her forehead, he bent forward and turned his head until his ear was almost touching her mouth.

“If it’s really you, and not the boy, then should you be doing this?” asked Vargus.

“You tell me. You’re the Weaver. Was her life supposed to end here?”

Vargus had not tapped into his old power for a long time. He wasn’t even sure that it belonged to him any more. It made him hesitate, but only for a moment. Staring at Cerille, he raised his right hand and light blossomed on his palm, filling the shallow cave with a pale white glow. As if she were sat at the heart of a spider web, threads ran out from Cerille’s body in all directions. The past was there, sharp images from her childhood which were so clear to Vargus it was like looking in a mirror.

The future was murky and constantly shifting as there were many possibilities and paths she might walk depending upon her choices. In one he saw her court someone from the mill, marry, have children and die an old woman in Morgan’s Creek surrounded by her loving family. In another she followed her passion and travelled to the capital city where she became an artist with limited success. In another she married, but her husband died in a terrible accident. Heartbroken, she fled to the coast where she became a sailor and eventually a captain of her own ship. In yet another she chose a quiet life of reflection and service, becoming a priestess for the Lady of Light. She travelled to the most desperate places, bringing comfort to those in dire need.

There were more. So many more, where the slightest choice dramatically changed the course of her future.

But in each possible version, she died many years from now. This was not her time.

The light faded from Vargus’s outstretched hand and he stared at Cerille with concern.

“She was never meant to die here.”

“She’s still alive,” whispered Lanny, his face was hidden in shadow but one eye seemed to be gleaming with an inner light.

In the silence of the cave, Vargus heard a long, slow breath being drawn into his friend’s lungs through his nose and mouth. Lanny’s chest swelled more and more until finally he bent forward so that his lips were almost touching Cerille’s.

Slowly he exhaled into her mouth and Vargus could see the air moving between the two of them. The breath seemed to go on and on, filling the cave with a raw primal energy that made Vargus’s skin tingle and the hairs stand up on the back of his arms. Still it came, whistling out of the bottom of Lanny’s chest as if his lungs were deeper than the crevasse in which they sat.

Finally he closed his mouth, and Vargus risked a glance at Cerille. The colour had come back into her cheeks and her left leg was whole and straight. The dark bloodstain that had soaked into her clothes was gone. If not for her broken arm and the trickle of blood coming from her ear, Vargus would have thought she was merely sleeping.

“It would look suspicious if she had no injuries at all,” said his old friend with a brief grin.

One of the group threw down a spear which Vargus broke into pieces to use as a splint for her arm, tying it in place with strips of cloth. Cerille remained unconscious even when they slid her across the bottom of the cave. Fashioning a sling from Lanny’s shirt, they tied her onto his broad back.

Moving slow and steady, Lanny climbed out of the hole and then up the rock face until others could lift Cerille off his back to safety.

When they were all back on solid ground, Vargus allowed himself a moment to let his hands shake. A few saw but said nothing, thinking he was trembling from the climb or the adrenaline wearing off. They didn’t know. They hadn’t seen. As others praised and patted Lanny on the back, Vargus looked into the boy’s eyes. Nothing of his old friend stared back. He was gone again.