“You’ll catch your death like this.”
Simon Keller was behind her, his black hat pulled down over his head, the rifle over his shoulder. He was carrying a large deer on his back, and was looking at her in surprise.
“Simon Keller . . .” she gasped.
He said nothing.
“I . . . I . . .” Marlene stammered.
He took a step towards her: threatening, perhaps, or perhaps not, she could not tell. But he was clearly expecting an explanation. She had to improvise, and fast, before he put two and two together. She took a deep breath.
You’re the Thieving Magpie. Make something up. Or this’ll be the place where you die. Where both of you die.
“Lissy,” Marlene said breathlessly. More out of fear than tiredness.
At last, Simon Keller spoke, a note of alarm in his voice. “Another fit?”
Marlene shook her head. “No. Yes. I mean . . .”
He came closer. Marlene noticed that his greatcoat was undone. She glimpsed the hilt of his hunting knife. There was blood on his trousers. Probably the deer’s blood. He reached out his hand and stroked her face. His fingers were warm. “Breathe. How long have you been running?”
“I don’t know. I . . .”
“You’re frightened.”
Yes, damn it. Of course she was.
“And you’re cold.”
Keller laid the carcass of the deer down in the snow, took off his rucksack and pulled from it a moth-eaten woollen blanket. He put it over Marlene’s shoulders and rubbed her. Her blood started circulating again.
“Feeling any better?”
Marlene nodded.
“Tell me about Lissy. Why are you here?”
“Lissy isn’t well. She’s . . .” Shivering, Marlene pulled the blanket tightly around her, closed her eyes and breathed in. “I was feeding the . . . the kids. Everything was normal. The same as always. I gave Lissy her bowl and she started knocking herself against . . . At the back of her enclosure there’s a kind of . . .”
“A little window, yes,” Keller said.
“She kept banging her head on it, quite hard. I don’t know why, I really don’t. I tried to calm her down, but . . . there was blood everywhere and I didn’t know what to do. I ran out.”
Keller looked at her intently for a moment or two and saw fear in her face. He was touched by it. “You’re a good girl, Marlene,” he said. “Let’s go.” He hoisted up the deer. “It’s nothing, you’ll see. She does this every now and again. I think it’s the cage. Maybe I should build a larger one.”
Less than an hour later (because he knew all the shortcuts, a fact that filled Marlene with terror) they came within sight of the maso. In the midst of all that snow, it was black and reminded Marlene of the monolith in the cellar.
Even so, when Keller turned and gave her an encouraging look, Marlene actually managed to smile.