At first, and with the fire to help him, Farid kept finding traces: a print left by one of Dustfinger's boots, a broken twig, amarten's trail… but the time came when he stood there at a loss, not sure which way to go. Tree grew beside tree in the pale moonlight whichever way you looked, so close together that you couldn't make out any path between their trunks, and Meggie saw eyes: eyes above her, behind her, beside her… hungry eyes, angry eyes, so many of them that she wished the moon wouldn't shine so brightly through the leaves.
"Farid!" she whispered. "Let's climb a tree and wait for sunrise. We'll never find Dustfinger's trail again if we just go on like this."
"My own opinion exactly!" Dustfinger appeared among the trees without a sound, as if he had been standing there for some time already. "I've been able to hear you plowing through the forest behind me like a herd of wild boar for the last hour," he said, as Jink pushed past his legs. "This is the Wayless Wood, and not the safest part of it, either. You can think yourselves lucky I managed to convince the elves in the ash trees that you weren't breaking their branches just for fun. And how about the Night-Mares? Do you think they don't pick up your scent? If I hadn't sent them packing you'd probably be lying stiff as dead wood among the trees by now, caught in bad dreams like two flies in a spider's web."
"Night-Mares?" whispered Farid, as the sparks at his fingertips went out. Night-Mares. Meggie came closer to him. She was remembering a story that Resa had told her. What a good thing it hadn't come into her mind earlier…
"Yes, did I never tell you about them?" Jink ran to Dustfinger as he walked toward them and greeted Gwin with a delighted chatter. "They may not eat you alive like those desert ghosts you kept telling me about, but they're not exactly friendly, either."
"I'm not going back," said Meggie, looking at him resolutely. "Whatever you say I'm not going back."
Dustfinger looked at her. "No, I know," he said. "Your mother all over." That was all.
All night they followed the broad track left by the men-at-arms as they had marched through the forest – all night and the following day. Dustfinger let them stop for a brief rest only when he saw that Meggie was staggering with exhaustion. When the sun was once again so low in the sky that it touched the treetops they reached the crest of a hill, and Meggie saw the dark ribbon of a road running through the green of the forest down below. A collection of buildings stood beside it: a long, low house, with stables around a yard.
"The only inn close to the border," Dustfinger whispered to them. "They probably left their horses there. You can move considerably faster on foot in the forest. Everyone who wants to go south and down to the sea stops to rest at this inn: couriers, traders, even a few of the strolling players, though everyone knows that the landlord is one of the Adderhead's spies. If we're lucky we'll be there before the party we're following, because they won't be able to get down the slopes with the handcart and the prisoners. They'll have to go the long way around, but we can take the direct route and wait for them at the inn."
"And then what?" For a moment Meggie thought she saw the same anxiety in his eyes that had driven her into the woods by night. But who was he anxious about? The Black Prince, the other strolling players… her mother? She still clearly remembered that day in Capricorn's crypt when he had begged Resa to escape with him and leave her daughter behind…
Perhaps Dustfinger had remembered it, too. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.
"Oh, it's nothing," she murmured, bending her head. "I'm just worried."
"And for good reason," he said, abruptly turning his back on her.
"But what are we going to do when we've caught up with them?" Farid was hurrying unsteadily after him.
"I don't know," was all Dustfinger said as he began looking for a way down the slope, keeping in the cover of the trees. "I thought one of you might have some idea, since you were so keen to come along."
The route he took led downhill so steeply that Meggie could hardly keep her footing, but then she suddenly saw the road – stony and rutted with channels where water had once flowed down from the hills. On the other side were the stables and the house she had seen from the top of the hill. Dustfinger waved her over to a place by the roadside where the undergrowth would shield her from curious eyes.
"No, they don't seem to be here yet, but they must arrive soon!" he said quietly. "They may even stay the night, fill their bellies, and get drunk to forget the terrors of the forest. I can't show my face over there while it's still light. Given my luck, one of Capricorn's fire-raisers who's working for the Adderhead now will cross my path. But you," he said, placing a hand on Farid's shoulder, "you can go over there safely. If anyone asks where you're from, just say your master's sitting in the inn drinking. Count the soldiers, count the prisoners, and see how many children are among them. Understand? Meanwhile I'll take a look farther along the road. I have a kind of idea."
Farid nodded and lured Gwin over to him.
"I'll go with him!" Meggie expected Dustfinger to forbid her to go with Farid, but he just shrugged his shoulders.
"As you like. I can't keep you here. I just hope your mother doesn't give herself away when she recognizes you. And another thing!" He took hold of Meggie's arm as she was about to follow Farid. "Don't take it into your head that we can do anything for your parents. Perhaps we can free the children, even a few of the adults if they run fast enough. But your father won't be able to run, and your mother will stay with him. She won't leave him on his own, any more than she would leave you behind that other time. We both remember it, don't we?"
Meggie nodded and turned her face away, so that he wouldn't see her tears. But Dustfinger gently turned her around and wiped them from her cheeks. "You really are very like your mother," he said softly. "She never wanted anyone to see her cry, either – however good her reasons for tears." His face looked strained as he scrutinized the two of them again. "Well, you're dirty enough," he commented. "Anyone would take you for a stable boy and a kitchen maid. We'll meet behind the stables as soon as it's dark. Now, off you go."
They didn't have long to wait.
Meggie and Farid had been hanging around the stables for barely an hour when they saw the procession of prisoners come down the road – women, children, old men, hands tied behind their backs and soldiers on both sides of them. These men were not armed, no helmets hid their sullen features, but they all wore their master's snake emblem on their breasts, silver-gray cloaks, and swords at their belts. Meggie recognized their leader at once: It was Firefox. And judging by his face, he didn't seem to like traveling on foot very much.
"Don't stare at them like that!" whispered Farid, as Meggiestood there rooted to the spot. He dragged her behind one of the carts standing around the yard. "Your mother's not hurt. Did you see her?" Meggie nodded. Yes, Resa was walking between two other women, one of them pregnant. But where was Mo?