The bearded man nodded.
“As the spirit woman said, this is a time of miracles. This dwarf bested a werewolf hunter. No one here has ever seen that done before. So I will come with you.”
“I will come, as well,” Lord Despaard said. “I was leader of this ill-fated expedition. It isn’t right for me to remain behind.”
I will not be left here!
“Then I will come as well-”
“No, Pia,” Arisha said. “You will remain behind.” Vanstrom nodded.
“But I owe it to Kara.”
“Perhaps,” Vanstrom said, “but it would ease my fears if you stayed here, Pia. And you must prepare, for when we return, we must flee this land.” He leaned down, his face a hand’s width from hers. She could feel his breath. “Please, Pia,” he said softly. “It would mean so much to me, knowing you were safe. And Jack needs you, too.”
“Very well,” she said reluctantly. “I will remain here.”
How could I have offered such, planning to leave Jack here?
They were talking now, among themselves, laying out times and routes and what to take with them, but to Pia it was a jumble of words with little sense. She found her way to Jack’s side and sat next to him.
“Will you speak to me little brother? Please?”
Jack looked at her blankly.
“No?”
She cursed angrily and turned away.
Suddenly, something grasped at her torn shirt. She turned to see Jack tugging at her gently, a strange smile on his face. Without a word he lay his head down on her lap, as he had done so many times in their flight from Kandarin.
He still needs me at least.
And that was a comforting thought.
30
Ebenezer gripped his walking stick and lowered himself onto the chair. He blinked away the spots that darkened his vision, as they did more often since his injury, and drew a deep breath.
I shouldn’t feel so bad, he mused. The investigation is making progress, though to what end I cannot yet tell. Perhaps Papelford was right. Logic is not enough when it comes to magic.
He turned in his chair to examine the board that stood beside him. He’d had it brought to his room the day he had started his task. Two maps were pinned to it, one of Varrock itself, and the other of the neighbouring portion of Misthalin. On both were small dots of red paint to mark the Wyrd’s murders, complemented by green marks for those who had gone missing and remained unaccounted for.
Nearly a hundred lives are represented there. From all strands of society.
His eye followed the dots from the Eastern Chase, where a red mark represented the area where the King’s love, Lady Elizabeth, had fallen. As he journeyed west toward Varrock the dots grew in number. A milkmaid here, a shepherd there, a missing child from a farm. The points seemed like a hand, stretching from Morytania directly to Varrock on an east to west path. Few and far between were any in the north or the south.
He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece above the fire. Sally would be here any moment with her news, and at the same time he expected Reldo and Lord William. The three had become his eyes now that he had trouble even walking down a flight of stairs, and each had been given their tasks that morning.
But the Wyrd is not just a mindless killer. It wanted the servant’s daughter Felicity specifically. If Gar’rth hadn’t tracked the Wyrd then another innocent would have been taken. But why Felicity? What was so different about her that she was needed especially?
Sally arrived a minute early. She gathered her breath before speaking.
“The tailor’s wife verified Sir Theodore’s story,” she said triumphantly. “The Wyrd said that the babe was needed, but not for what. The mother could not think of any reason why.”
“So there was nothing unusual about her?”
Sally shook her head.
“She was normal in every way save for a birthmark upon her chest. She cried like all babies do, she was no different.”
“That is what the mother of the child Gar’rth saved said when I spoke to her yesterday,” he said. “Yet the Wyrd wanted her especially-the child’s name is Felicity.” He nodded to the board and Sally followed his gaze. “The green dots are missing people who are believed to have been taken by the Wyrd, yet no bodies were found. There are nine of them. Six of those are children, of approximately the same age as Felicity and the tailor’s daughter, all under eight months old. The other three are adults, two men and one woman. I am tempted to discount them. They may well be victims of the Wyrd who were simply never found.”
The door opened suddenly and a breathless Reldo entered, followed by Lord William.
“We have done as you asked,” William wheezed. “The farm with the two abductions. The Wyrd took the first-born son one night, and the second night she returned and took his brother. The first-born’s remains were found on the morning of his brother’s abduction.”
“So she could have made a mistake with the first one, and gone back to kidnap the second,” Ebenezer suggested. “Tell me, Lord William, did either child have anything that set them apart from others? Especially the second child, the one who is still missing.”
“There was nothing,” William replied.
“And there was nothing unusual in their behaviour,” Reldo added.
“But what about any marks upon them?” Sally asked. “The tailor’s daughter had a birthmark upon her chest.”
Birthmarks? Ebenezer thought, suddenly angry. A monster comes from across the river and steals children with birthmarks. Is that the best link we can come up with? How Papelford will jeer.
“We need more than blasted birthmarks,” he said irritably.
Sally stood abruptly. Ebenezer felt her cold stare.
“Very well,” she said quietly as she left the room. He saw the accusing stares of his two young accomplices.
“Well, we do… don’t we?” he asked in a conciliatory tone.
Take command. Quench their doubt. Impress them with your strength. Inspire them.
“Let us return to the beginning then,” he said firmly. Take command. “The Wyrd left hints of this prophecy-that I know you don’t believe in Reldo-but let us assume for the moment it is true.” Quench their doubt. “We know she comes from Morytania. Therefore, if she is working toward this prophecy, then the Salve must be involved somehow, as it bars that land from ours.” Impress them with your strength.
He stood suddenly.
“Therefore, can these murders and kidnappings be in any way linked to the holy river itself?” He felt a triumphant smile on his face. Inspire them.
Then his knees buckled. His grip on his walking stick slipped and his wrist twisted in pain. As the black dots shot holes in his vision he stumbled and fell awkwardly back into his chair. He wheezed painfully.
Inspire them.
But the laughter he expected never came. Lord William’s face was ashen.
“I remember now,” the nobleman said in little more than a whisper. “I was on the terrace, overlooking the Salve when Kara went across to test the blood mark. When she came back everyone else went downstairs to greet her, but I waited and watched the ravenous that tried to kill her. It stepped onto the bridge, which was supposed to be impossible. Drezel made it quite clear that he thought me mistaken, but I wasn’t. I know what I saw,” he said firmly.
“You mean the Salve isn’t as strong as you thought it was?” Reldo asked.
“It doesn’t matter what I think of it, but Drezel was wrong about it. The ravenous walked upon the bridge-which Drezel said was impossible, so perhaps the Salve is being affected somehow.”
Could there be a link here? Is that what this is about? For the prophecy to be true the Salve would have to be circumvented somehow.