Chapter Nine

 

 

As the group walked along, Deirdre pushing Alvey in her chair, the path slowly narrowed, and they veered off onto a dirt trail closer to the wooded area, the town growing distant behind them. The air was crisp and cool, and soon Iain took off his jacket so he could enjoy the breeze. His new cookware jangled together in his pack rather jauntily, and he walked with vigor, looking at the landscape around him.

It really is lovely out here…

He’d been too distracted and tired to properly appreciate the view while they walked the other day. Now he wanted to soak everything in. It really was different out here than in Neo-London—the air was sweeter and cooler, and the smells were certainly nicer. Everything was impossibly green compared to Neo-London’s gray.

Iain glanced about to check on each member of the group; it was mostly out of habit, having to keep an eye on his brother when they went out walking, but he was also concerned that Alvey’s chair would be difficult to maneuver over the rockier terrain. He was going to offer to help, but as he watched Deirdre and Alvey, he noticed they were having no trouble at all, almost as if some unseen force, like magic, propelled the chair.

You’re going to have to get used to it, Iain mused. But that is a reasonable use for magic. That’s something understandable, using magic to help someone like Alvey get around. Practical and with a purpose. It makes sense.

Meanwhile, James was rambling on about something. His tone made Iain pay attention as he recognized it as James’s rarely used bragging voice. “And then,” he was saying, gesturing wildly as he spoke, “this Brownie popped out from nowhere! It had this squeaky little voice—”

Alvey interrupted. “Say, James, do you perchance have Fae ancestry?”

Iain prepared himself, assuming he was about to have to explain like he always had to explain to ignorant gazhe that the Roma had no relation to faeries or magic at all. Even if Alvey was half elf and not a human, she was still a gazhi.

“Uh, no.” James chuckled. “Wouldn’t you know that, seeing as how you knew that Deirdre was a faery?”

Alvey’s voice was smug when she said, “Oh, I just assumed you were somehow related to the Brownie, considering you described his voice as little and squeaky.”

Iain quickly coughed into the crook of his arm, trying to mask a surprised laugh. He could not believe the nerve of this girl, and he had never seen anyone get to James quite like she did. He considered stepping in but decided to let James handle it himself.

James’s eyes bulged nearly out of his skull, and he was too stunned to speak for a moment, registering the well-crafted insult. “I-I don’t—” he stammered, his face reddening. “I—”

Alvey just waved her hand carelessly. “My mistake,” she said, a smile in her voice. “Continue with your little story then. I assume it gets interesting eventually.”

“Alvey.” Deirdre hissed as she leaned down toward the girl’s ear. “We talked about this!”

Iain hid a smile at that. Deirdre had apparently scolded the girl at one point on her manners, which he found amusing and rather endearing. He couldn’t imagine it had been a very successful endeavor.

“Anyway,” James huffed, continuing his story. “It said I was marked with dark magic and stuff. And then—oh boy—the shopkeeper was livid, because the Brownie just vanished and said it had forsaken the shop forever. And then he wouldn’t let us buy anything. But I hassled him a little, and he let us go.”

He really isn’t processing this… is he?

Iain looked behind him, only to see his same wary expression on Deirdre’s face. She was looking at him, then at James. And he knew she was somehow just as worried about his brother as he was. That realization was both comforting and upsetting at once. It was nice to have someone else looking out for his brother, but it was also a confirmation that James was not dealing with things well.

Then, like a rabbit in a thicket that had spotted something much bigger and scarier in the distance, Deirdre tensed and glanced away, her hair whipping around her face in her haste.

Iain went back to staring out at the landscape. But he stopped in his tracks, hearing something faint. Leaves rustled in the woods to their right, but there had not been a breeze at that moment.

Something is following us.

That was his gut instinct and reaction, but he hurriedly dismissed it. Still, he kept an eye on the woods, regardless. There were a few minutes of silence, everyone seeming to enjoy the quiet.

“I can push myself for a while,” Alvey said after a minute, dismissing Deirdre like one might a servant. “You keep breathing on me.”

“Breathing on you?” Deirdre almost shrieked.

“Yes. And your hair keeps tickling my face.”

As Alvey pushed herself along at a slower speed, she and James fell back a little, and Deirdre picked up her pace, walking up beside Iain. Her face was pinched in concentration as if she were thinking very hard about something.

Then he heard the rustling again. And he thought he saw a flash of something—something dark and swift and lithe. Just as soon as he spotted it, it was gone again.

“Deirdre, did you hear that?” Iain asked her curiously, nodding to the woods.

Deirdre met his gaze, her eyes widening. “Hear what?”

“I just thought I saw… something in the woods.”

“What did it look like?”

“Like an animal.”

Deirdre bit back a smile. “Animals are pretty common in the woods.”

Iain felt his previous agitation fade as he realized how dumb he sounded. “Yeah,” he said, looking down, his cheeks warming. “It looked like a cat. A black cat.”

“You and James really haven’t been out of the city much, have you?”

After making sure his arms were not crossed, Iain nodded in agreement, smiling faintly. “We’re city boys, if that’s what you mean.”

Deirdre giggled. “Maybe it was a cat. We had lots of stray cats in the town by the orphanage.”

“Or maybe I’ve spent too much time in that inn, and now I’m seeing cats everywhere,” Iain offered, feigning concern. He gestured to the road ahead of them. “Or maybe it was a ghost that decided he needs a change of scenery.”

Deirdre tilted her head, clasping her hands behind her back. “Do you believe in ghost stories?”

“Well, kind of, yeah.” He grinned. “My mum taught us that choxane exist—unrested spirits of the dead. Sometimes they supposedly take the form of an animal, like a cat.”

Deirdre hummed thoughtfully. “James talks about his mum a lot too.”

“Yeah…” Iain’s throat tightened, and for a moment he was too struck by her observation to speak.

“I hope we find her,” she said seriously. “I’d like to meet her.”

“My mum,” Iain began slowly, “she was—she was a beautiful person. She, uh, would like you. She… liked to talk, and she was kind, and she had a really strong faith.”

Deirdre did not respond, looking distracted. She lowered her head, her hair falling forward and hiding her face. For a long while, she said nothing, and there were only the faint sounds of their boots against the dirt path and the sounds of birds chirping.

“Deirdre?” Iain asked softly, reaching out tentatively to touch her shoulder like he might comfort James but pulling back uncertainly. “Are you all right?”

She looked up suddenly, startled, and asked, “Did you say something?”

Iain just shook his head. “No— I-I’m sorry—” he stammered, unsure of what to say.

“You’re sorry?” Deirdre quirked her eyebrow at him. “For what?”

“I don’t know,” Iain answered lamely. Then he said, remembering what he’d asked her, “I was just wondering how you’re doing.”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m completely good!” She held up her hands, smiling too widely. “No more magic mishaps!”

Iain was unconvinced and confused as to why she’d brought up her magic. There was clearly something on her mind, but it was obvious to Iain that she did not want to talk about it, which he understood. He decided to back off, thinking that was what she wanted.

“I’m going to walk ahead,” he announced, nodding toward the path. “You could, ah, maybe check on Alvey and make sure she hasn’t bullied James further, yeah?”

Maybe that’ll get her mind off things.

Deirdre just nodded absently, going back to staring at the ground. She looked almost sad. Iain hesitated, thinking for a moment that he ought to ask her one more time if she was all right, but instead, he just stayed quiet and kept walking on ahead.