‘Not me.’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Rix fought it to a standstill while I lay on the floor in blissful unconsciousness. I’ve never heard of anyone else killing a caitsthe in single combat. Here.’
The faint light from his elbrot revealed a scarlet face covered in blisters, and the whites of his crusted eyes were pink.
‘Not a pretty sight?’ he said wryly.
But at least the eyes were his again. Did that mean the wrythen had been driven out — or was it just hiding? She looked away. ‘You survived. That’s what matters.’
‘For the moment. Did I thank you?’
‘I don’t need to be thanked.’
‘But I need to say it.’
‘Let’s see if we can get you into the saddle. Can you stand up?’
‘I’ll try.’
He took her under the arms and heaved, and such pain flared through her thigh that she cried out. It felt swollen to twice the size of the other.
‘Sorry,’ said Tobry.
Getting her onto the horse proved to be the most painful few minutes she had ever experienced. Every movement was like having blunt needles forced into the wounds. When Tobry hauled himself up and took her in his arms, she closed her eyes and panted like a woman in childbirth, breathing to control the pain, concentrating on not screaming with every step the horse took.
Not even pain could erase the image of the shapeshifting carrion eater, hunting her for its master. Pinnnng, pinnnng, pinnnng.
‘What if it finds Rannilt first?’ Tali whispered. She would have no chance.
‘Not even a caitsthe can catch a galloping horse.’
‘But Rannilt can’t ride.’ And no horse could gallop through the Seethings in the dark. It would end up in pit or pool or bottomless quick-mud within a hundred yards.
She could not stop imagining Rannilt’s terror as the beast stalked her, hiding and revealing itself again, catching her then letting her go. Playing with its food …
She bit down on a cry. Tobry put a hard hand on her thigh and began to whisper a healing spell. It was nothing like her own small gift of healing. This was real magery and she felt the pain fade, the hot tightness ease, the images in her head recede.
‘Sleep,’ he said in her ear.
She was too on edge to sleep, but with his arm around her she felt safe enough to lapse into a daze. Tobry extinguished his mage-light, though from time to time he must have swung his elbrot through the air, for she could see moving trails through her closed eyelids.
They rode on, and on …
‘Tali?’ Tobry said quietly, squeezing her. ‘Don’t make a sound.’
Starlight showed that they were on the side of a small hill, moving through a patch of scrub. A wiry stem trailed across her shoulder, catching in the fabric of her ruined gown.
‘What is it?’ said Tali. ‘Are we out of the Seethings?’
‘No, we’re close to where we left Rannilt and the horses — ’ A sharp breath ruffled her hair.
‘What’s the matter?’ An odd smell hung in the air — slightly sweet, organic, grassy.
‘I don’t know, but something’s wrong.’
‘Maybe your horse took her home.’
‘I can smell fresh horse manure.’
‘Why don’t I call her?’ She took a deep breath.
‘If it’s here, we don’t want to alert it.’
As his arm tightened around her chest, she felt the tremors running through him. Tobry could have said that there was no hope of finding Rannilt, or proposed any number of reasons why going after her was futile, yet he had faced his fears and not mentioned the shifter again. Could any friend do more than he had done, asking nothing in return?
‘If it’s here, it knows we’re coming. And Rannilt — ’
‘Don’t say it,’ said Tobry. ‘That only makes it worse.’
Could anything be worse than the fate Tali was imagining?
‘Don’t think about it, either,’ he added. ‘If this is a trap, she may be unharmed.’
If it was a trap, Rannilt need not be live bait. Tali imagined the shifter creeping up on the terrified child, taunting her, batting her broken body about. Then waiting, covered in her blood, for the real prey.
She was tempted to snatch the reins and gallop away. She wanted to sweep Rannilt up in her arms and protect the child from all the horrors of the world. She burnt to hack the shifter to death, then destroy the wrythen the way she had killed Banj -
‘When you saved me earlier,’ said Tobry in her ear, ‘how did you manage it?’
‘I sensed my enemy, then blocked him out.’
‘See if you can sense him again.’
‘No!’
‘Why not?’
‘He’ll hear the call.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I told you earlier,’ said Tali. ‘Before it attacked you.’
‘I don’t remember — it feels as though I’ve lost an hour.’
Because the wrythen is still possessing you, hiding in the background for the right moment? Tobry’s arm was now confining her, binding her. She pulled away.
‘Something the matter?’ he said.
No, trust your feelings. If he is still possessed, you’ll know it. Tobry wasn’t himself when the wrythen attacked, and neither was Tinyhead. She had to trust Tobry.
‘That’s how the wrythen found me before. Via my call, and his reply. I think it’s how he’s directing the shifter after me.’
‘How could he track you that way?’ mused Tobry. ‘What sort of magery can it be? Where does your call come from, anyway?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘What’s making it?’ Tobry mused. ‘To call across such a distance is no small matter. Only great magians can do it at all, and only with the aid of a power fully enchanted device. I’ve never heard of anyone doing it mind to mind.’
‘Can you locate Rannilt with magery?’
‘Mine doesn’t want to work here.’
‘Why not?’ she said hoarsely. ‘Does that mean he’s here?’
‘Could mean anything, or nothing. Some places the gift just doesn’t work. It would be easier to sniff out the horses.’
‘I have a keen nose.’
‘You’d need to be well away from my horse. And upwind. But I don’t think — ’
‘Help me down.’
He did so reluctantly.
The pain in her thigh was still there, though muted, and the swelling had gone down. His healing had done more good than hers.
‘Take this.’ Tobry was holding out a knife by the point. The hilt was wound with yellow, worn leather.
She took it, though she could not imagine it being any use against the shadow shifter. Tali moved upwind, into the dark, a herb-scented night breeze cold on her face. Her thigh felt peculiar, almost numb, though each time a spear of pain broke through it was worse than the one before. The healing was wearing off.
She caught the odour she now recognised as horse manure and began to follow it, moving slowly across the stony ground to avoid being heard, but lost it again. The night had too many other smells: leaves crushed underfoot, some pungent, others with a lemony sharpness; baked earth; her own sweat; fresh blood as the arrow wound broke open. Finally she picked up the smell of horse again and began to track it up the wind.
Tali stopped, took a deep sniff and gagged on the reek of carrion, blood and guts and ordure. The shifter could not be far away.
‘Rannilt!’ she whispered.
Light flashed behind her and Tobry’s horse broke into a trot. ‘Stay where you are.’ He was holding the elbrot high, staring at the ground. ‘It’s come this way.’
A series of large, blurred footprints were steaming, the grass shrivelled around them and brown decay creeping out in all directions. What manner of beast was it?
In the light she saw a big, unmoving heap twenty feet ahead, a mound with long legs and guts spilled across the uneven ground. A dead horse, chestnut with a white mark on its forehead.
‘Beetle,’ said Tobry heavily. ‘Stay back.’
Tali wanted to be a thousand miles away. She knew what she was going to find next and could not bear to think about it, but she had to be sure. She had to keep searching, just in case. ‘Rannilt!’