26 
When they arrived back at Fiory, the wylers were gone. Voilies insisted that Ned and Preddy join him in speaking to the directorate, but Ottilie’s presence was apparently not required. She only hoped that it was Voilies snubbing her as usual, and not that he intended to use the meeting to get her into trouble.
In truth, she was glad. She needed time to settle, to think. So Gracie was the witch who had been controlling the wylers. Why, then, had that first wyler bitten her? Why had she been so sick? Was it all for show? And what of Maeve?
Alba and Skip were mostly unharmed, but Ramona was checking them over in Montie’s kitchen all the same. The cosy room was a wonderful relief from the bracing cold. The smells of baking bread and simmering soup wrapped around Ottilie like a hug.
‘She came to and pulled the knife on me,’ said Skip, filling her in.
Gracie had slashed her across the ribs, but it was only a scrape. Ramona was cleaning the wound while Montie heated some pumpkin soup left over from lunch. Even after what she had just witnessed Ottilie still found it hard to picture. Gracie Moravec, attacking Skip with a knife. It didn’t seem real. How could people do things like that to one another? How had Gracie’s body let her do it?
‘Skip tackled her,’ said Alba, her eyes wide. One of her braids had come loose, and her usually smooth, straight hair was scrunched in a matted knot at the side of her head.
‘I had her!’ said Skip, scowling. ‘But then one of the wylers came.’
‘It was like she could control it!’ said Alba. ‘They could have killed us, the two of them, but it seemed like she was in a rush to be somewhere – obviously to reach the wagons.’ She nodded her head at Ottilie, who had just finished her own account. ‘So she just fled,’ Alba continued, ‘and the wyler held us there for a bit, and then went after her.’
‘This shouldn’t be happening,’ said Montie, shaking her head over the pot on the coals. ‘This place should be safer … safer than …’
Ottilie knew she was referring to wherever she and Alba were from.
Skip picked up on it too. ‘Why did you leave the Usklers, Mrs Kit?’ She winced as Ramona dabbed vinegar on her scrape. It was a question Ottilie had always been too nervous to ask.
Montie frowned. ‘Because we weren’t safe.’
‘Why not?’ said Ottilie, trying not to look at Montie’s burns.
‘There’s a group of Laklanders who live in the north-most part of Longwood Forest. That group, they’re vengeful people, filled with hate. They hate Usklerians, but more than that they hate people with Lakland blood living peacefully among Usklerians. They saw us as traitors.’
So there really were Laklander camps in Longwood. There had always been whispers but Ottilie had never believed it. Mostly because she had never believed it possible for anyone to live in that horrible forest.
Her gaze lingered on Skip and Ramona. If either of them was surprised to find out that Montie and Alba were Laklanders, they hid it well.
‘Mum was attacked,’ said Alba, with the casual tone that comes with time.
‘We were living in Scarpy Village, by the mouth of the River Hook,’ said Montie. ‘Nothing like this had ever happened there before. But they must have heard about us and where we were living. One night someone broke into our house and set a fire.’
Her fingers traced the side of her face. She reached up and unwound the pink-and-gold scarf – revealing her scarred, nearly bald head. What hair she had left she kept very short.
‘Alba was six years old, but she found me, and she helped put the fire out. We left as soon as I was well enough to travel. My sister still lives there, with my niece and nephew. She refused to let them drive her away. But I couldn’t stay there, not after what happened … what could have happened to Alba.’ She turned her back on them. ‘But here we are, in a guarded fortress, and look at what’s happening. This is the world we live in.’
Ottilie, Alba and Skip exchanged looks.
‘Mum …’ said Alba. ‘We’ve been training with Ottilie.’
‘You’ve what?’ Montie dropped her ladle in the pot.
‘Ottilie and some other huntsmen, and Ramona. We’ve been training with them at night. Just in case.’
Montie glared at Ramona. Ottilie wouldn’t have been at all surprised to see steam coming from her nostrils. ‘You’ve been training them in secret? With all this talk of witchcraft! You’ve been gathering them together after dark? How could you be so reckless!’
Ramona remained composed. ‘I’m sorry, Montie. With Alba involved, we should have informed you.’
‘Informed me? You should have asked my permission!’ Baring her teeth, Montie turned to her daughter. ‘How could you do this, Alba? How could you risk our position here? Risk losing our home?’ Montie’s dark eyes were heavy with betrayal and Ottilie felt a sick feeling in her gut.
‘Because this is too important!’ said Skip, louder than was probably wise.
‘Don’t you dare start with me, Isla! Do you know what they were going to do with Maeve Moth? You all put yourselves in terrible danger,’ she growled, glaring at Alba.
Alba seemed unable to muster a breath, let alone her voice.
‘And you,’ said Montie, rounding on Ramona again. ‘After everything that happened … that little girl, under your care … and you would risk this?’
Ramona’s cheeks flushed and her lips became a thin line. She and Montie faced each other like two lions braced to clash. No-one dared speak and the crackling flames seemed unnaturally loud in the silence.
Finally, cautiously, Skip asked, ‘What are you talking about?’
Montie didn’t answer her.
Ramona drew her fiery hair back from her face, sweeping her little finger across the crocodile-skin eyepatch. She faced Skip. ‘Ten years ago, the king’s three-year-old daughter had an accident with a horse under my supervision.’ Her eyes were fierce but her voice was calm.
She didn’t say what had happened to the girl. She didn’t need to. Everyone knew that Varrio Sol didn’t have any daughters. Both had died, one before Ottilie was born, and another when she was very young. That must have been how Ramona ended up in the Narroway. She’d been exiled.
‘Enough, Montie,’ said Ramona.
Montie opened her mouth to retort but Ramona got in first, her tone still remarkably calm. ‘We’re all in danger, but the difference is the boys are armed and trained to meet it. If Alba and Skip hadn’t been training with us, they might not have survived today. It’s too dangerous not to teach them.’
Montie didn’t seem to have a response. She turned back to the pot, scooped out the drowned ladle and filled five bowls in silence. Ramona tied off a bandage around Skip’s ribs and Skip settled quickly into a chair, as if frightened to do anything that might set off Montie again.
Montie slid each of them a bowl and spoon. As she passed Ottilie the soup, she met her eye. Ottilie wondered if she was going to scold her, but instead she offered an infinitesimal nod, which Ottilie hoped was a gesture of forgiveness.