They didn’t chase us. I didn’t know whether Lucas led them away, or they got bored, but we nursed Jaxon back to the coast with no further drama. Once out of the water, Tasha led us to the narrow mountain path and, with Jaxon over my shoulder, we turned our backs on the Bay of Bliss and the Lodge of Dagon. It took another hour to reach the Kneeling Wolves’ cave and find suitable clothing for the Wisp, by which time night had fully descended. Tasha warmed up some leftover stew and I carefully placed Jaxon next to the low fire.
“Swordfish, carrots, potatoes and a hint of spice,” said Tasha, inhaling deeply from her small cauldron. “Harriet’s favourite. Nothing better to bring your friend back to the waking world.”
“I hate fish,” I replied. “Never developed the taste.”
She looked at me as if I’d claimed to be a sea-serpent or something equally bizarre. “Never met a Sea Wolf who didn’t like fish. What do you eat?”
I shrugged. “Vegetables mostly. We do have chickens and sheep too. It’s not all fish.”
“What about him?” she asked. “Does he like fish?”
“When he’s awake he does,” I replied, looking with concern at my torpid friend. He was still breathing and his heartbeat was regular, but he’d not opened his eyes or moved so much as an inch. I cradled him in my lap, smoothing back his hair. There was dried blood around his face and neck, too stubborn to be removed by our watery escape, but outside of the flayed skin, he’d suffered no significant injuries.
“Jaxon,” I whispered. “You’re safe. We’re going home now.”
“And you’ve made some new friends,” offered Tasha. “A duellist and a cook.”
I stared at her, quizzically. “You’re not a duellist?”
She grinned. “Gosh, no. Kneeling Wolves never leave the Folly without a good cook. Lucas, Hector and Zorah were the duellists.”
“And Harriet?”
Tasha dropped her eyes in sadness for a moment before answering. “She was a Sister. That’s what we call them – Brothers and Sisters – people we take along because they make us all smile. Never underestimate the value of a hot meal and a good grin. Lucas used to joke that he was the most important and she was the second. I always thought he was right.” She stirred the pot and screwed up her face, as if she wanted to ask me something, but was nervous of the answer. “So, er … where are we bound?”
I took a bowl of the stew, noting that Tasha had just given me vegetables and separated the fish. “Dark Wing knew of this place,” I replied. “I have a suspicion he knew more than he said. And if it cost the life of my brother and the mind of my friend … well, we’ll go there on our way to the Severed Hand.”
Tasha took her own bowl and dampened down the fire with a handful of gravel. “He’s a duellist, isn’t he? A mad old man from what we heard. Not really worth killing. And Jaxon Ice should be our main concern. Makes me sad seeing a Sea Wolf like that.”
“Didn’t say I was going to kill him,” I replied, looking down at the Wisp. “Perhaps I just want someone to blame for my stupidity. If I think it was someone else’s fault, I’m less likely to tie myself in knots worrying that it might be mine.”
“Now, Mistress Brand,” said Tasha, adopting the demeanour of a kindly school teacher, “I don’t want to hear that kind of talk from you. Okay?”
I dropped my head and screwed up my eyes. All at once, I felt the weight of what had happened since we left the Severed Hand. I sniffed, then a tear appeared at the edge of my eye. I wiped it away, but more came, until I could no longer hide my grief and my face ran with tears. “Arthur,” I whimpered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Tasha positioned herself at my side, with her arms wrapped tenderly around my shoulders. I didn’t have the energy left to push her away, so I just clung to Jaxon and cried.
*
We rowed around the coast until we were clear of the Mirralite Reservation, then trudged inshore across a mudbank. Jaxon had remained motionless in the back of the boat, and was equally motionless when carried in my arms. By the end of the first day we were inland, skirting the edge of the Plains of Tranquillity. By the end of the second, with weary limbs, we camped within sight of Dark Wing’s skeletal forest. It was a short western diversion, and a welcome break from carrying the Wisp. My back, my neck and my shoulders throbbed, as muscles were called upon for the first time in over a week.
Tasha was a pleasant travelling companion, and was able to find glee in the smallest of things. A cloudy morning, a red-feathered hawk, a soft-boiled egg. The Kneeling Wolf handled every menial task without question – setting our camp, lighting our fire, cooking our food and somehow managing to keep my spirits from falling any further. I even heard her whispering lullabies to Jaxon when she thought I was asleep. His eyes even twitched once or twice as she sang of tall trees and gentle animals, in a low, soothing voice.
“There’s more colour in his face each day,” said Tasha, as we rose from our bedrolls. “Fish soup, I do declare, it could soothe the dead back to the light.” She glanced at me across the remnants of our small nightly fire, appearing to realize that I could take offence at her words, if I were to be overly sensitive about Arthur’s death.
“Don’t worry,” I replied. “I can tell well-meaning words from harsh ones.”
Tasha had also taken charge of Jaxon’s care as we camped. She fed him soup and massaged his throat, encouraging him to swallow, until his body began to respond and take in a little sustenance. When and if his mind reordered itself, at least he wouldn’t be too malnourished.
“Are we going into that nasty forest today?” she asked, stoking the fire and cutting some thin slices from her diminishing block of salted bacon. “I think there are wild dogs in there. Heard them barking last night.”
“Dark Wing is fond of them,” I replied. “Apparently they liked me. Can’t think why.”
“I’m also fond of dogs,” said Tasha, scrunching up her nose in imitation. “I’m sure they’ll like me too. I have a terrier back at the Folly, called Scraps. Mischievous little thing.”
As if Dark Wing’s hounds could hear us, a chain of barking sounded from the edge of the dead forest. We were over a ridge, and had camped out of sight, but now I felt as if we were being watched. My time at the Bay of Bliss appeared to have chiselled the edges from my previously stoic shell, and I had to shake my head to push irrational fear from my mind.
“Watch Jaxon,” I said, before striding over the ridge and standing defiant before the skeletal trees. “Anyone watching?” I shouted. “No spirits, gods or men, hold dominion over me.”
“Er, Adeline,” murmured Tasha. “Who are you shouting at?”
I stared at the empty treeline for a moment, before dropping my head and chuckling. “I suppose I’m shouting at myself.”
Suddenly, the hairs rose at the back of my neck and my eyes were drawn to a figure approaching from the forest. He’d been unseen within the trees, but was now visible in the open ground. It was Dark Wing. Like a clothed ox he loped towards us, his massive frame and fur-covered shoulders identifying him even at a distance.
Tasha joined me over the ridge and shielded her eyes from the morning sun. “He’s a big fellow. Is he friendly?”
“No, but he’s not a threat,” I replied, walking to meet the hulking wild-man. “Stay with Jaxon, I’ll deal with the unfriendly man.”
“Just try not to kill him,” she replied, returning to Jaxon’s motionless body.
Dark Wing was lumbering towards me, his straggly beard and mismatched cloth bouncing as he moved, but his dogs were nowhere to be seen. I could still hear them in the trees, perhaps waiting for their master’s command, or perhaps unwilling to leave the forest.
“You return,” he growled. “Does the sea rise?”
“Ever higher,” I replied.
We came together on the flat ground between the ridge and the forest. The wild duellist was hesitant, not approaching too closely and keeping his posture hunched. He was still taller than me, but may have sensed that I was less likely to be cordial during our second encounter.
“I can feel your friend’s mind, he needs aid,” grunted Dark Wing.
“He does, but I need answers first. Tell me what you didn’t tell us before we left … before my brother died.”
His face wrinkled up and he scratched at his thick beard. “Your friend—”
“Yes, he needs help,” I snapped. “Answer me first.”
My choice of words was poor, and Dark Wing took a step back, imagining I was challenging him.
“Answer my question, not my blade,” I stated, losing patience. “But I will kill you if I do not like your answer.”
He frowned, his eyes moving to meet my glare. He wasn’t afraid of me and I saw something of the old duellist spark back into life as I threatened him. Old and wild he might now be, but there was a time when he prowled Duellist’s Yard on the Day of Challenge like the rest of us.
“I told you what I knew,” he replied through gritted teeth. “I showed you the statue and I told you not to listen to the sea. If you chose to go there … you are a Sea Wolf, take some fucking responsibility.”
I seethed with anger and approached him. He didn’t back away as I glared up into his dirty, bearded face, nor did he reach for a weapon or take a defensive stance. “You are a fat old man. Big, but slow. Let us establish a line of authority – I have it, you don’t. Disagree with me and I will end your fascinating existence. I hope your dogs can fend for themselves.”
Tasha coughed from behind us. “Adeline, perhaps your new friend can help the Wisp. Maybe. If you don’t kill him.”
Dark Wing’s twitchy eyes shifted to the Kneeling Wolf behind me. “Is that your backup? A rat from the Folly?”
I rammed an open palm up into his throat and followed with a powerful kick to his shin. The huge wild-man tried to catch his breath, grabbing at his throat and wheezing, but when his leg gave way he crumbled to the grass in front of me. “That rat saved my life. Insulting her will get you hurt.”
“Adeline!” snapped Tasha. “Do not start a fight on my account. I will kneel to you, but I will not be an excuse for you to hurt another Sea Wolf. Now, calm down and think about Jaxon.”
Dark Wing lunged at me, wrapping his arms around my thighs and tackling me to the ground. I hit the grass hard, knocking the breath from my chest, but I managed to sprawl backwards and avoid a pin from the huge man. If I’d been at my best, the wild duellist would have received a kick to the face, before I choked him unconscious. But after my confinement in the Lodge of Dagon, I was barely able to avoid his paw-like hands and scramble to my feet.
“Oh dear,” grumbled Tasha, just audible over my grunting and Dark Wing’s growling. She ran towards us, over the ridge, flapping her hands in the air. “Stop it! Right now, stop it. You’re both Sea Wolves.” She stopped next to us and knelt, bowing her head and spreading her arms wide. “We have enough enemies. Adeline, you’ve seen them. Do they wear his face? Are they old duellists, living with their dogs in an old forest of dead trees? No! They are not.”
Dark Wing was on all fours in front of me, his pale blue eyes showing neither aggression nor submission. He was cunning, though perhaps not wise enough to accept defeat. I backed away, allowing him to stand. “They’re coming for the Severed Hand,” I said. “They fear us above all Eastron. The Battle of the Depths seems to have left an impression.”
“We lost,” grunted Dark Wing.
“But we fought,” I replied. “I don’t think the Sunken Men like those who fight back. Perhaps they’re not used to it.”
Tasha clapped her hands together. “That’s good, that’s good. Talking. Talking is good.”
“You don’t speak here,” snarled Dark Wing, shaking his hairy fist at the Kneeling Wolf, before glaring back up at me. “Yes, yes, the rat saved your life and I shouldn’t insult her.”
“That’s right. Now, stand up!” I demanded. “And answer me this – can you help Jaxon?”
“I can,” he replied, lumbering to his feet, like an overweight cow. “Bring him.” He turned and jogged back across the open ground to his dead forest, his bulky shoulders bouncing and his feet making a heavy thud on the earth.
Tasha was smiling at me, and I found it irritating, as if she was congratulating me for not hurting the wild-man too badly. “Just leave it,” I snapped, returning to Jaxon.
She didn’t stop smiling. “I will leave anything you ask, noble Sea Wolf. Well done though.” She chuckled to herself.
I picked Jaxon up, cradling him in my arms as I’d done since we left the Bay of Bliss. After time spent locked in a cage, carrying my friend back to Dark Wing’s forest had done wonders for my muscles. My back, arms and legs were still sore, but at least I no longer felt weak.
“Does he have a cabin?” asked Tasha, fastening her rucksack and slinging it over a shoulder.
“He has a bone palace,” I replied. “The man’s been killing Mirralite for a long time.”
Her eyes narrowed and her lips curved in uncertainty. “Bones? Don’t his dogs eat them?”
“Apparently not. I’m not actually sure what they do eat. Unless he has a way of storing Pure One flesh.”
“Urgh!” said Tasha, in revulsion. “He wouldn’t feed men to his dogs. Would he?”
I shrugged and made my way after Dark Wing, with the Kneeling Wolf hurrying along behind me, mumbling something about feeling sick.
*
Dark Wing was a more skilled herbalist and healer than I expected. He unveiled a huge, wooden chest of vials and jars, each with some kind of herb or ointment. He knew what he was doing and applied a quickly assembled salve to Jaxon’s forehead. I let him work, standing with Tasha at the entrance of his domed bone palace. The old duellist used wyrd, but only subtly, sending it in soothing waves across Jaxon’s body. The flayed skin was covered in a brown paste of some kind, emitting a nasty smell and a noxious vapour, but Dark Wing concentrated on the Wisp’s head, as if his mind required more healing than his body. After ten minutes of fast and skilful activity, the wild-man soaked a cloth in a bowl of clean water and pressed it against Jaxon’s forehead.
“He’ll mend,” said the old duellist. “The mind of a Sea Wolf is not as strong as his body. Fighting, killing and shouting does little to strengthen the mind. But he’ll mend.”
The Wisp rolled over and huddled into a foetal position. His eyes remained closed, but his mouth opened and his scratchy throat emitted grunted sounds.
“The chanting,” he muttered. “The varn … they fear us. The Dreaming God screams at them and they chant of the Devils of the Sea. The teeth and gums of chaos … they’re meant to destroy us.”
“Easy,” I whispered, moving to his side. “There is time.”
Dark Wing wrung out his cloth and returned it to Jaxon’s forehead. The old duellist was a different man when focused on healing. His wild eyes were still and he’d made some effort to tie his hair.
“The teeth and gums,” repeated Jaxon, his eyes opened – wide and staring. “Teeth like jagged glass and burning red gums. I couldn’t count them, but I could feel them, scratching beyond the glass.”
“Rest,” I said, smiling in relief. “You’re safe. We’re safe.”
“Arthur!” he grunted, tears appearing in his eyes. “He’s gone.”
My jaw tightened, but I didn’t cry. I wouldn’t allow myself to, not in front of Dark Wing. I’d already cried for my brother and more tears would neither bring him back nor make me feel any better. “We’ll be back at the Severed Hand soon,” I murmured. “Tomas Red Fang will help you. Your mind was strong, it will be so again.”
Jaxon rocked onto his back and reached for me. His hands, cold and clammy, grasped my face. “The Severed Hand,” he repeated.
The Eastron found more than a kingdom when they invaded.
They found more than the Pure Ones.
They found spirits of nature and elements.
They found spirits of might and majesty.
They found the Lords and Ladies of the Quarter.
The Winterlords found the Dawn Claw.
The Dark Brethren found the Night Wing.
The Sea Wolves found the Old Bitch of the Sea.
And the Kneeling Wolves found the Kindly One.
From “An Eagle, an Owl, a Wolf and a Rat”
by Lennifer High Heart, Lore-Mistress of First Port