The Shadow's Heart Page 2

  ‘So ye say!’ the man said at once.

  ‘I do,’ said Heath. He became stern. ‘But who are you, may I ask? Are you friends to this poor woman, or are you holding her prisoner?’

  ‘We’re her followers, not her friends!’ the woman snapped. ‘This is the rightful queen of Tara!’

  Very amateurish, then, Heath decided. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Then I’ve come to the right place. One of you should probably go and guard the entrance before I say anything else.’

  ‘Nice try, but we ain’t fooled,’ said the man. ‘Get outta here!’

  ‘What, so I can run off and tell the guard exactly where Lady Saeddryn is?’ said Heath. ‘No, I think it would be better if you kept me here.’

  They glanced at each other.

  ‘Who are ye?’ the man finally said. ‘How did ye find us?’

  ‘My name’s Heath,’ said Heath. ‘And I found you by talking to some of your friends. They were looking for new people to join the resistance here in Malvern. I’m not against a little treason, so I decided to join. And here I am.’

  ‘Prove it,’ said the woman.

  ‘I found you, didn’t I?’ said Heath. ‘I didn’t bring the guard. I’m not one of the guard. I’m just one man. I know things only your people know. I know that one of you found Lady Saeddryn after she fell out of that window, and that you smuggled her into the city. I know you’ve been keeping her here since then. How else could I know all that? Oh, and I also know that when she first came here she went around the city talking to people, and formed the resistance in the first place. That’s how you knew where she was going to be, so you could rescue her.’

  They glanced at each other again.

  ‘Fine,’ the man said at last. ‘If ye know all that, then I believe ye.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Heath. ‘Now, may I speak to Lady Saeddryn? I should ask how she is.’

  The woman stood aside. ‘Ye can, but she won’t answer. She won’t talk t’nobody.’

  ‘Feeling shy, is she?’ said Heath, feeling he could afford a little flippancy.

  Neither of them smiled.

  ‘She’s … not well,’ said the man, choosing his words with care.

  ‘Is that so?’ Heath approached Saeddryn. ‘Excuse me,’ he said cautiously. ‘Lady Saeddryn? Hello?’

  Once again, Saeddryn did not react to his presence in any way. She hadn’t moved since he had come in, but had stayed exactly where she was, staring blankly at the floor.

  Heath shivered, and reached out for her shoulder. ‘Hello? Saeddryn? Can you hear me?’

  The instant he touched her, Saeddryn came to life. She jerked upright and backed away, waving a hand wildly. ‘Not now!’ she snapped, in a perfectly normal, irritated voice. ‘What are ye doin’ here, anyway? Get back to yer post!’

  Heath managed to stop his heart from thumping, and took a step toward her. ‘Saeddryn,’ he said. ‘Saeddryn! Can you hear me?’

  ‘I said, get back to yer post!’ Saeddryn snapped. ‘Are ye daft? The Southerners could be here any moment. Do ye want me to tell Arenadd yer slackin’ off? Is that it?’

  Heath glanced at the two rebels. The woman looked sadly at Saeddryn.

  ‘See what I mean?’ said the man. ‘She can’t see ye or hear ye. She just babbles like that.’

  Saeddryn had stopped talking again. She shook her head slowly, dazedly. ‘Mother, I can’t do this,’ she said, in a much softer voice than before. She took a step toward Heath, reaching out beseechingly. ‘Please, don’t make me do this. Yer the only family I got left.’

  Heath took her hand in his, and held it to try and comfort her. ‘Saeddryn …’

  She wrenched her hand away. ‘What if I don’t want to?’ she yelled. ‘I ain’t ye! I’m me. I don’t wanna just do whatever ye did; I want my own life, don’t ye understand? I don’t care about the stupid griffiners. They ain’t botherin’ us up here; can’t we just live in peace? I want a life, Mother. I wanna marry Rhodri, an’ I want a family. A real family. I ain’t a child no more! Let me go. Please, if ye love me, Mother …’

  ‘It’s like she doesn’t know where she is any more,’ said Heath, watching her with morbid fascination. ‘Like she’s forgotten where she is in her life.’

  ‘Yer right,’ said the woman. ‘She’s been doin’ that for days; talkin’ to people who died years ago, fightin’ enemies she must’ve killed when she was young. Even …’

  ‘Yes?’ Heath cocked his head.

  The woman smiled sadly. ‘Yesterday she told someone she loved him, an’ then cried for an age afterward.’

  ‘He must have said no,’ Heath murmured.

  The man looked at him. ‘What are we going to do? She’s been like this ever since we found her an’ she ain’t getting better. If we can’t fix her she might be like this forever!’

  Heath rubbed his face. ‘Ugh … I don’t know. Listen, do you have any food down here? I think better on a full stomach.’

  ‘’Course,’ said the woman, and hurried off. Her partner sat down on a handy chair, and offered another one to Heath.

  Heath sat, and gratefully accepted some food when the woman returned. Apparently he was one of the gang now.

  While he ate, he watched Saeddryn as she continued to wander about the room, reliving some girlhood argument with her long-dead mother. She showed no sign of seeing anything else, or even noticing when she walked into a crate, and as Heath watched her he grew steadily gloomier. He prided himself on being a jack-of-all-trades, but he wasn’t a healer and he knew nothing about how to cure madness, which was what he was more than ready to call this. What was he going to do? He’d found Saeddryn, but how was he going to get her back to Skenfrith when she was like this? He could get out of Malvern easily enough on his own, but doing it with an instantly recognisable, raving woman was another matter altogether.

  ‘It’s no good,’ said the woman, interrupting his thoughts. ‘Only the Night God can help her now.’

  Heath raised his eyebrows. ‘The Night God …?’ he repeated slowly. ‘Hmm.’

  The man was watching Saeddryn and looking almost tearful. ‘What did they do to her? My gods, what did they do?’

  ‘I don’t think I want to know,’ said Heath, not really listening. He kept his eyes on Saeddryn, and let his new thought grow without prodding it too much in case it disappeared. Saeddryn had lost her mind, and with any other person that would be more or less the end of it. They’d be locked up somewhere and forgotten about, or left to wander at random until they died.

  But, he reminded himself, Saeddryn wasn’t an ordinary person, or even completely human any more. She was the Shadow That Walked now, and the Night God had chosen and blessed her. Everyone knew the Night God’s chosen one was sent with a particular purpose to carry out, and Saeddryn couldn’t very well do that if she was mad.

  Therefore, it wasn’t unreasonable to assume that the Night God would want to help her get better. Heath wasn’t even going to question whether she had the power to do that; you just didn’t spend time speculating about whether a god who could bring people back from the dead could deal with a little dose of insanity. Anyone with the power to cure death could probably cure just about anything.

  The only question now was how to get the Night God to do it.

  Well, Heath thought, how does one usually get a god’s attention?

  ‘We should pray,’ he said, without quite meaning to say it aloud.

  ‘Eh?’ said the man.

  ‘I said we should pray,’ Heath repeated more loudly. He stood up. ‘You’re right. Only the Night God can help her now. We just have to ask her.’

  ‘We have,’ said the woman. ‘We’ve prayed for her every night since she came here.’

  ‘Then we’ll just have to make a proper show of it,’ said Heath, after a moment’s consideration. ‘You there … er … can you get some rocks?’

  The man looked blank. ‘What for?’

  Heath shook his head. ‘Actually, never mind. I reckon we could
use anything we can get our hands on. It’s the shape that really matters.’

  ‘What shape?’ said the woman.

  ‘We have to make a circle,’ said Heath. ‘A stone circle. Or … I don’t know, a circle of bricks or chairs or bits of wood.’

  ‘I know where there are some bricks,’ said the man, instantly latching onto the idea. ‘I can go and get them, if ye like.’

  Heath nodded. ‘Do it. We should have it built by moonrise.’

  ‘How many should I get?’

  ‘Er … thirteen, I think.’

  ‘I think we have that many.’ The man darted off to climb a staircase into the house above.

  While he was gone, Heath went to the trapdoor and poked his head out. He could see the sky, and he looked at it thoughtfully for a few moments before reaching into his tunic and bringing out a small mirror. It was made from a polished silver plate and was just about the only possession he’d managed to hang on to all this time. When he angled it correctly, it reflected the fading sunlight down into the cellar.

  Heath spent some time experimenting with this, and eventually retreated to check on Saeddryn. She had settled down again in the corner and was mumbling to herself. Heath thought he had never seen anything so utterly sad.

  ‘Now then,’ he told the woman, whose name he wasn’t planning to ask. ‘Here’s the plan. We build our circle right about … here.’ He scuffed a mark on the floor with his boot. ‘Once the moon comes up, we make her Ladyship stand in the middle of it, and I’ll direct some moonlight onto her. That should put the Night God’s eye right on her.’

  The woman nodded. ‘What should we do while ye’re doin’ that?’

  ‘Pray,’ said Heath. ‘I don’t think the words would matter that much.’

  ‘We will, then,’ said the woman. ‘Yer plan sounds good.’

  ‘My plans always do,’ Heath said gravely.

  The man returned shortly after this, carrying an armload of bricks. He dumped them on the floor and went back upstairs to get the rest of them, and while he was gone Heath and the woman set about building the circle. They did their best to make it as round as possible, standing the bricks on their ends and spacing them out as evenly as they could.

  Once the bricks were in place, Heath, still unsatisfied, took out his knife and scratched some symbols into the ground — circles to represent full moons in front of each stone, and some stars and different phases placed in a pattern around the rest of the inside. The pattern didn’t mean anything as far as Heath knew; since he had to improvise, he picked one that looked nice. The Night God was a woman, he reasoned, so she probably liked things to look pretty. His two helpers were impressed, at least.

  ‘Did ye learn that in the Temple?’ the woman asked.

  ‘I did,’ Heath said immediately. ‘It will sanctify the circle.’

  The man smiled hopefully; the woman looked positively awestruck.

  ‘Now then, let’s see if the Night God is awake yet.’ Heath went to the trapdoor to check. Night had indeed come, but he couldn’t see the moon yet. Better wait a while, then.

  He hung around in the cellar and enjoyed another meal courtesy of his two hosts, who took it in turns to check the sky every so often. The moon, however, seemed reluctant.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Heath advised. ‘It’ll come when it’s ready.’

  He had noticed a blanket and a pillow on the floor, and happily claimed them both without asking permission. Before long the tiring and troublesome day he had had made itself felt, and he fell asleep with one leg resting on another, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. And because he was Heath, he didn’t.

  TWO

  YET ANOTHER ROLE TO PLAY

  A hand shook Heath awake.

  He opened one eye. ‘Hm?’

  ‘Sir? Er … Heath? The moon …’

  Heath sat up and rubbed his eyes. ‘Shown itself, has it?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The man helped him up.

  Heath looked over at Saeddryn — she hadn’t moved. ‘Then let’s get to work! Move her into the circle and I’ll get into position.’

  Together, the man and the woman coaxed Saeddryn into getting up. She did it without too much effort, and walked blindly between them toward the circle, like someone with no mind of her own. She kicked over several of the bricks when she entered the circle, but once her helpers had let go of her she stood in the centre among Heath’s symbols and didn’t seem inclined to move again.

  While the man and woman put the bricks back in place, Heath went to the trapdoor and peeked out. Sure enough, there was a pale sliver of moon visible in the sky above the alley. He reached for his mirror, but the first thing his fingers touched was his knife.

  He stopped, frowning to himself, and then nodded. ‘Of course. Nearly forgot there …’

  Saeddryn looked through him as he approached the circle. Beside her, standing outside the circle, the man said, ‘What are ye doin’?’

  ‘I forgot that we have to make an offering,’ said Heath. ‘Just wait a moment …’

  He brought his knife out, and pressed the blade against the palm of his hand. ‘Well, Saeddryn,’ he murmured. ‘I promised Caedmon my hand would be useful to him if he didn’t have it cut off. Let’s hope it is.’

  He sliced the blade across his hand, and grimaced as blood dripped onto the circle. ‘May this offering of true Northern blood summon you!’ he said quickly, hoping it sounded suitably ritualistic.

  He hastily wrapped up his hand before it could bleed on his clothes, and went back to the trapdoor. ‘Now, pray!’ he said to the other two, and thrust the mirror out into the open air.

  The effect was much less noticeable than it had been during the day, but when Heath looked back he saw faint, silvery light shining into the cellar. He moved the mirror around, angling and re-angling it until it touched Saeddryn’s face. On either side of the circle, the others prayed in low, murmuring voices.

  Heath, holding the mirror as still as he could, looked up at the moon. In all his adult life, he had never prayed. It was too … unconfident. Too uncertain.

  So he didn’t pray now. Instead he talked to the Night God, as if she were another person right in front of him.

  ‘Hey. You there. I know you can hear me; you’re famous for it. Now, I understand you sent this woman here, Saeddryn Taranisäii. I was pretty certain of it before, but now it’s a fact in my mind. So she’s here to do your bidding, which is all well and good, but from what I can see she’s not doing it that well right now. So go on. Do your thing. Help her. I’m helping her. You can too! Go on,’ he said again. ‘It’s easy, isn’t it? We both know what you want, and … honestly, I want it too. Everyone who really believes in you does. So help them, too. Help us all. Help her. She’s earned it.’

  He kept on like this tirelessly, not letting the mirror move, even after his hand began to shake. His other hand, holding up the trapdoor, stung fiercely. He could feel the blood congealing on his arm, and realised he must have cut himself more deeply than he’d meant to. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was this.

  A ferocious determination that he had not felt in years rose up inside him. It was the same feeling that had made him leave his home all those years ago, that determination that had come after he decided that he would not be poor ever again, but would have all those things the rich took for granted, and revel in them. But that determination had been selfish, and this was a different kind: a determination to help someone other than himself. It was quite a novel sensation.

  Eventually, the moon drifted out of sight and Heath couldn’t hold his arms up any longer. He put the mirror away and shut the trapdoor, finally turning around to see what the results of his night’s work had been.

  Saeddryn was still standing there, unmoving and expressionless. The man and woman on either side of her both looked exhausted and miserable.

  Heath ignored them. ‘Saeddryn? Saeddryn, can you hear me?’

  Yet again, Saeddryn did not respond to him at al
l.

  Tiredness, nerves and sheer frustration finally got to Heath. He strode straight into the circle, knocking the bricks aside, and seized Saeddryn by the front of her dress. ‘I said, can you hear me?’ he shouted.

  Saeddryn blinked once, slowly, and did nothing else.

  Heath had had enough. He pulled his hand back and slapped her hard in the face.

  The man and woman started forward with furious yells, but before anyone could do a thing, there was a shout, a thump and a cry, and Heath lay flat on the floor, with Saeddryn on top of him holding a dagger against his throat.

  For a long moment, nobody moved. Heath’s breath was cut with pain, and one eye twitched. The knife at his throat — his own knife — had new blood on it.

  ‘Er,’ he said eventually. ‘I, er, I think she’s feeling better …’

  Saeddryn stayed where she was for a few heartbeats, and then she took the knife away and stood up, blinking dazedly. ‘What …?’

  Heath scrabbled away from her with astonishing speed and pressed himself against the wall. He dabbed at his face with his bandaged hand. ‘Sorry about that, my Lady, but it worked. Thanks for the reward. It was my pleasure.’

  Saeddryn didn’t seem to hear him. She lowered the knife and rubbed her face, then looked blankly around the room. ‘What is this …? How did I …?’

  Heath, seeing that his two companions didn’t look ready to take the initiative, took it for them. ‘You’re safe,’ he said. ‘And sane again … in theory. My name’s Heath. I think you already know these two.’

  Saeddryn peered at them. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Well,’ said Heath, ‘I don’t know the full story, but apparently you came here — to Malvern — to assassinate the, er, the Queen. Something went horribly wrong, we don’t know what, but you fell out of a very, very high window and were lucky enough to be rescued by some of your supporters, who brought you here to this cosy cellar. Unfortunately you were a little confused for a while, but luckily I came along and thought up a brilliant plan to make you feel better. Then you slashed me across the face. Does any of that sound familiar?’